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Digitized by the Internet Archive
in 2009 with funding from
CARLI: Consortium of Academic and Research Libraries in Illinois
http://www.archive.org/details/opencourt11887caru
The Open Court,
Fortnightly Journal,
Devoted to the Work of Establishing
Ethics and Religion upon a
Scientific Basis.
Vol. I
CHICAGO:
The Open Court Publishing Co. a
[887-88.
V
JUrrL. J J Iff
GENERAL INDEX.
VOLUME I.
SPECIAL CONTRIBUTIONS.
PAGE.
Adam, Putting off the Old Man. IV. D. Gunning 67
Agnosticism Produce Better Results than Christianity? Does W. L.
Garrison, Jr '53
Anarchists? What Shall be Done with the. W. M. Salter 530
Anniversary of the Society for Ethical Culture of Chicago, The Fourth. .. 164
Aphorisms from the Study. Xenos Clark 14
Rlue Laws, The. Frederick May Holland
Breadth and Earnestness. Celia P. Woolley. ...
Buddhism Influence Early Christianity? Through what Historical Chan-
nels Did. Gen. J. G. R. Forlong 382, fi6,
02
K at zen jammer. W. D. Gunning 4
Labor, The Future of. Robert C. Adams 575
Labor, The Laokoon of. Wheelbarrow . . 410
Labor Cranks. James Parte n 113
Language. E. P. Powell. 6S4, 750
Language, 'I he Simplicity ot. I rof. F. Max Muller 225, 253
Language and Thought, The Identity of. Prof. F. Max Muller 2Sj, 309
Laws in Harmony, All. Mrs. R. F. Baxter . _•< 7
Liberty and Labor, The Poets of. Wheelbarrow 41s 1, 745
Live and Not Let Live. Wheelbarrow zfii
Character and iis Relation to the Commonweal, The Evolution of. Miss
M. S. Gilliland 63
Chimpanzee, Chats with a. Mori cure D. Conway.
62, 126, 177, -,3'. 3H. 403. 5'5- 546
Chopping Sand. Wheelbarrow 353
Christianity and the Moral Law. Clara Lanza 203
Church Worth Saving? Is the. Lewis G.Janes 120
Church and State, Separation of. Prof. Albert Reville 369, 396
Church, The Stronghold of the. Col. T. W. Higginson 477
Coal Upon Our Atmosphere, The Influence of the Combustion of. Ttans-
lated from the German of Dr. Clemens Winkler 197
Consciousness. E. P. Powel 1 ] 25
Crusade, The Cross of the New. Prof. Van Hurcn Denslow 262
Democratic Theory and Practice. W. L. Garrison, Jr 316
Determinism versus Indeterminism. Prof. Georg von Gizycki 729, 75S
Douglass in Paris, Frederick. Theodore Stanton 151
Dress Upon Development, The Influence of. Flora McDonald 40S
Economics, The Ethics of. Geo. M. Gould 6S9, 721, 747
"ducation of Parents by their Children, The. Cams Sterne 642, 670
^chatology and Ethics. M. C. O'Byrne 190
Ethical Movement, The Aim of the. Address by Prof. Felix Adler (-.00
Ethical Societies, The American. Mrs. McCullom 601
Ethics, The Basis of. Edward C. Hegeler iS
Remarks by Messrs. Prussing, Stern, Underwood and Zimmerman..., 22
Comments on Mr. Hegeier's Essaj'. W. M. Salter 51
Further Comments on Mr. llegeler's Essay $2
Ethics, Amendments and Answer to Criticisms ot His Essay on the Basis
of. Edward C. Hegeler 94
Ethics, Darwinism in. W. M. Salter 77
Ethics in Public Affair-. M. M. Trumbull 1S2
Ethnological Studies. Theodore Stanton 13
Evolution, Montgomery on the Theology of. Prof. E. D. Cope 2S5, 35S
Evolution, Cope s Theology of. Edmund Montgomery 160, 217, 274, 300
Ja:
Evolution, Thoughts
Evolution and Ideali*
James Eddy 463
Prof. E. D. Cope 655
Flowers and Pot ts. Anna Olcotl Commelin 90
Folk- Lore Studies. I.. J. Vance 612, 662
Fool in the Drama, The. Translated from the German of Franz Helbig.
607, 657, 687
Franklin, A Hint from. John Burroughs $5
Free Religious Association and its Approaching Annual Meeting, The.
Wm. J. ] 'otter 179
Free Religious Association, Twentieth Annual Convention of the. F. M.
Holland 235
Free Thought Education, The Need for. Thomas Davidson 3
Free Thought in England. Hypatia Bradlaugh Bonner. 147
Free Thoughts. Felix L. Oswald, M. D 433
Future Life, Common Consent and the. Richard A. Proctor 237
Gravity, The Mystery of. George Stearns 557
Hein/en, Karl. K. Peler 451
Hemispheres, The Two. B. W. Ball 11
History, The Value of Doubt in the Study of. Gen. M. M. Trumbull 715
Idealism and Physical Science. W. M. Salter 552
Idealism, A Misconception of. W. M. Salter 47S
Immortality, Personal. Daniel Greenleaf Thompson 172
Immortal it v that Science Teaches, The. Lester I . Ward, A. M 199
Industries, Diffusion of. F. B. Taylor 565
Jails and Jubilees. Elizabeth Cady Stanton 175
and Jubilees. A Criticism of Mrs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton's Article.
Pr< -en led by Edward C. Hegeler , 212
A Rejoinder to Mis. E.C.Stanton. Edward C. Hegeler 407
thah's Daughter at Honolulu. Moncure D. Conway 86
Man of the Sea, The Old. Prof. W. D. Gunning 507
Memory, Th. Ribot on. Dr. Paul Cams 264
Memory, Th. Ribot on Diseases of. Dr. Paul Carus 344
Memory. Prof. W. D. Gunning, M. D 361
Memory as a General Function of Organized Matter, On. Translated
from the German of Ewald Hering 141, 169
Menial Science, Monistic. S. V. Clevenger, M. D 400, 429, 484, 553
Mind? Are We Products of. Edmund Montgomery, M. D.
423, 459, 4S0, 512, 587, 617
Mind to Matter, The Relation of. Prot. E. D. Cope. 527
Mind to Morality and Progress, Some Relations of. G. Gore, LL.D.. F.R.S 555
Mind -Reading, Etc. Minot J. Savage . 149
Mind-Reading, Etc. * A Reply to M. J. Savage. J.S.Ellis 230
Monism in Modern Philosophy and the Agnostic Attitude of Mind. Ed-
mund Montgomery 9, 37, 65
Monism, Dualism and Agnosticism. Paul Carus, Ph. D 209
Monism, A New Theory of. Rev. William I. Gill, A. M ..., 454
Monism, Quotations on 384
Monopoly on Strike. Wheelbarrow 5^9
Montgomery, Dr. Edmund 103
Moral Unity. William J. Poitei .' 88
Mythology, The Decadence of Christian. W. S. Kennedy 71
Mystery- Play, A Modern. M. C. O'Byrne 250-
Nervous System, The Specific Energies of the.
man ot Ewald Hering
Translated fn
1 the Ger-
oco, 664
Occult Sciences in the Temples of Ancient Egypt, The. Georgia Louise
Leonard 470, 496
Orthodoxy, Progressive. C. K. Whipple 71 S-
Pain in a New Light, The Mystery of. Xenos Clark 42S
Paradox, A Theological. Mi not J. Savage 36
Penalty, The Death. A. M. Griffen 572
Persona. Prof. F. Max Muller 505, 543
Picture, A Notable. Raymond S. Penan 28S
Population to Social Reform. The Relation of the Doctrine of. Prof.
Henry C. Adams 22S
Possibilities. Rowland Connor 30
Poverty, The Art of Making. M. M. Trumbull 57» 97
Present Aims. Arthur R. Kimball 343
Progress, The Process of. Rudolf Weyh r 683
Prometheus Unbound. F. M. Holland 4S3
Prophecy, Touched by. Elizabeth Oakes Smith 513
Prophets, Two. Alfred H. Peters 329
Protestantism, Aristocratic. C. K. Whipple 373
Protestantism and the New Ethics. William Clarke 233
Psychiatry, or Psychological Medicine. S. V. Clevenger, M. D 207, 241
Punishment, The Rationale of. Celia P. Woolley 134
Question. That Previous. J. II. Fowler 70
Radical, The. Ednah D. Cheney 1 17
Radical Method, Failure of the. Rev. Julius II. Ward 292
Reason and Predisposition. John Burroughs 115
Reflex Motions. Translated from the German of G. II. Schneider. 696
Reform Problems. Felix L. Oswald 122
Religion, Natural. Rev. John W. Chad wick 205
Religion and Science. Dr. Paul Carus 405
Religion Have a Scientific Basis? Can. Lewis G.Janes 350
Religion and Ethics, New Views of. F. M. Holland 519, 581
Religion of Humanity, The. William Chatterton Coupland 577
Religions, Mythologlc. Charles D. B. Mills 201
Religious Progress in Scotland. Rev. Robert B. Drummond 257
Religion, From Despotism to Republicanism in. John Burroughs 541
Religion, Separateness in. George Jacob Holyoake 510
Religion, 'The Secularization of. M. C. O'Byrne CS2
.*°
no <
THE OPEN COURT— Index to Volume I.
SPECIAL CONTRIBUTIONS— Continued.
PAGE.
Science to Morality and Progress, Some Relations of. G. Gore, LL.D..
F.R.S ." 421, 45$
"Science, Christian."' S. Y. Clevenger, M.D 330
Science in the New Church. Edward Crunch, Ph. B., M. I* 374
Scientific Studies, Religious Value of. Lewis G. Janes 571
Secularism, The Mission of. Felix L. Oswald, M. D 29
Shakers and Shakerism. Hester M. Poole. 149
Shakespeare- B icon Controversy, The. IS. W, Ball 5S5
Skeptic, The Modern. John Burroughs 239, $22
Skepticism a Self- Evident Error. Clinton Collin* 723
Social Prohlem and the Church, The. Morrison I. Swift . .... 050
Society and the Individual. William J. Potter. 1
Soul, The. Edward C. Htgeler 30.;
Spencer, Herbert, as a Thinker. Richard A. Proctor 145
Spheres, The Harmony of the. P. Carus, Ph. D.. 3;
Sun and Savior, The World's. Richard A. Proctor 312
Sunday Worship. Charles K. Whipple 05
Sympathy, The Merit and Vice of. Celia Pa ker Wool ley 550
Temples and Temple Cities. B. W. Ball 351
Tempted Generation, A Sorely. Alfred 1 1. Peters 11S
Theism, A Review of Francis Ellinirwood Abbot's Scientific. L. Carrau . 340
Theism, Th. Rihot on Dise:i-rs ofMemory. Or. Paul Cams 314
Remarks on the Two Foregoing Articles. Edward C. Hegeler 34S
I'AG E.
Thought, the Parent of Originality. Mary E. L ole 743
Thought Without Words. Conclusion of Correspondence between Mr.
Arthur Xicols, et al., and Prof. F. Max Muller 40S
Thought, The Simplicity of. Prof. F. Max Muller 337, 365
To Arms. Wheelbarrow 615
Tobacco, The Rights of Those Who Dislike. Anna Gar) in Spencer 60
Tolstoi and Primitive Christianity. W. D. Gunning 39S
Trades, Competition in. Wheelbarrow .... 203
Truth, Love of. Celia Parker Woolly 720
Unitarianisin and Its Grandchildren. Moncure l>. Convi av 46
Viking \ncesiors, and What We Owe to ["hem, Our. Samuel Knee land,-
M.D 259
\"irtues, The Positive. Prof. Thomas Davidson 426, 490, 517
Voltaire, King. Fruderii -k May Hollan 1 6
Will, Th. Ribot on. Or. Paul Carus (.55, |S7
"Woman, The Worst Enemy of Woman is." Elizabeth Cady Stanton. 34S
Worlds, Varied Life in Other. Richard A. Proctor 595
Xe ions, Goelhe and Schiller's. Dr. Paul Carus 31I*
POETRY AND FICTION.
Age, The. W. F. Barnard 54
Cat, The. A Parable. F. A. Krummacher, 641
Conclusion. |. F. D 3S1
Creedman, The. Mrs. Elizabeth Cakes Smith. 2o,3
Death. A. B 700
Death in the Cage. George Wentz 1 1 1
De Profundis. Elizabeth Oakes Smith 212
Dial, The. Walter Crane i^
Doubt. George E. Montgomery :2i
Down and Up. Anna Olcott Commelin 214
Drifting. W alter Crane 54
Egoitv. Emma Tuttle ... 244
Finishing " The Ruins," On. * * 49a
Gospel Village, The. Bv One Who Sojourned
There 30,?
PAGE.
Hi nihi Li gend. Gertrude Alger 324
Ho Theos Meta Son. Gowan Lea v>
Ideal, The. W. F. Barnard 137
Ideals. Gowan Lea 7-4
" [ Do Not Know." Sara A. Underwood 273
Immortality. Solomon Solis-Cohen 700
Immortality. Matthew Arnold 724
Lenau, Translation from 6iO
Lost Manuscript, The. Gustav Freytag. Com-
mencing in No. 22, p. 646, and continued there
from
Love. Mrs. Emma Tuttle 469
Magnanimity. Sara A. Underwood 43S
Nature's Lesson. W.F.Barnard 354
Open Court, The. Nelly Booth Simmons 205
I'ro Confesso. Ge< rge Went/ 150
f'AGF-
Questionings. Wil is Fletcher Johnson 753
Responsum N itur.e. A. C. Bowen . . 52!
Schiller's Gods of Greece. B. W. Ball. S3
Separation. Joel Benton 1 1
Silent Intruder, A. Lee Fairchild 1S4
Sin of the Atom, The. Yiroe ... 4JS
Snow, The First. Sonnet. Gowan Lea 550.
Socrates. W. F. Barnard 273
Song. Horace L. Traubel (69
Sonnet. Gowan Lea 492
Sonnet. Ilda Poesche 212
Sursum. By * * * . . 5JQ
To-Morrow. Gowan Lea. 419
Tributes. Lee Fairchild 641
Two Preachers. Sara A. Under \ nod 590
Un revealed. Helen T. Clark 437
When Sumac Glimmers Red. EHssn M.Moore. 469
CORRESPONDENCE.
CAGE.
Barnard's Defense of His Criticism, Mr 475
Concluding Comments by Dr. Carus 475
Boston Correspondence. Clayton 10S
Boston, A Letter from. Ednah Dow Cheney 52
Catholicism and Democracy in France. Theodore Stanton 566
Character. James Eddy 391
Common Consent, the Soul. Immortal Life, and the Godhead. Richard \.
Proctor 386
Conway's Work in England. Mr. George Jacob Holyoake 137
Cope-Montgomery Controversy, The. S. V. Clevenger, M. D 3S9
Cremation, Dr. Samuel Kneeland on 220
Cross, Reply to Mr. Benjamin. Ella E. Gibson 703
Davis of Boston, A Statement Concerning Rev. IT. B. Hastings 672
Economic Theology, Henry George and the School Girl. Edge worth 507
England, A Letter from. "Hypatia Bradlaugh Bonner 362
Ethical Culture and Monism. R. B. Westbrook 54
Ethical Movement in England, The. William Clarke .. 444
Free Religious Association. F. M. Holland 105
Free Religious Association, Resolutions bv the. Fred. M. Holland §3
Free-Thought Congress, 1SS7, International. Charles Bradlaugh 36}
Free-Thought Education. M. D. Leahy 10S
Free-Thought Education. Janet E. Runt/ Rees 136
Free-Thought Education. Thomas Davidson 166
Free-Thought Lyceums. Thomas H. Jappe 53
Gibson, A Reply to Ella E. Benjamin Cross 673
(iood and Bad. C. K. D 221
Gravitation, The Cause of. Ely Shefford 736
Gravity, On. L. J. Ives 704
Human Feeling, Limitations of the. F. B. Taylor 53
Human Suffering, The Study of. Xenos Clark^ .-603
Idealism and Realism. Francis C. Russell 604
Idealism, The Misconception of. F. L. Carpenter 569
Individual Immortality. C. Billups 734
" Institutional Order, The." A. N*. Adams 390
Ireland, The English Government of. J. G. W. ... ... 306
Jerusalem Correspondent, A Letter from Our. " Special " 24
" Labor Cranks" Criticised, Mr. Parton's Article on. John Basil Barnhill. 363
Labor Cranks Again, James Parton on 445
Labor Question, "The. A. Bate - 4'9
London, A Letter from. Hypatia Bradlaugh Bonner 249
London. A Letter from. Charles D. B. Mills 535
Mai-Observation and Lapse of Memory, as Viewed hy Richard Hodgson.
LL.D., The Possibilities of. Ella E. Gibson "7 '
Memory Necessary to Conscious Mental Life? Is. Janet E. Runtz-Rees. 306
Memory and Conscious Mental Life, Daniel Greenleaf Thompson 363
Mind-Reading. Paul Cams 105
Mind-Reading, Etc., Again— A Correction. M. J. Savage 305
Miracles. Smith John, D. D .250
Montana Industrial School for Indians. 1 he. J. F. B. Marshall _*23
Murderer?, Ecclesiastical Atten'ions to Georgejacob Holyoake., 331
193, ^7 ;ss
New \ ork. Letter from. Hester M. Poo
Open Court, The. -Mien Pringle
104
'94
277
7°3
M*
Parker Tomb Fund. The. Theodore Stan1*"''.
Philadelphia, Letter from. C. P
Prison Reform ? What is. Eugene I lough
Proctor on "Common Consent," Reply to. H. 1>. Stevens
Pulpit, Criticism of the. Georgejacob Holyoake
Quaker, A Letter from a. David Newport 7°3
Radical Method, Success to Ihe. Robert C. Adams 569
Religion and its Correlations. Joseph Rodes Buchanan 502
Religion an i The Open Court, Two Letters. Rev. II. H. Higgins and G.
H. Scheel 73 1
Salter, A Replv bv Mr. William M. 10 William I. Gill 703
Sense, Reality and Illusion as to. Wm. I. Gill 702
Seybert Commission Report, The. Ella E. Gibson 3S9
Social Democrats. Third Congress of the German. Laura La (argue 602
Social Studies. Hester M. Poole 700
Subscriber, A Question from a 763
Sundav Laws are Manufactured, How. H no
Thought Without Words. Correspondence between Francis Galton, the
Duke of Argyll, Mr. Hyde Clarke. Mr. T. Mellard Reade. S. F. M. Q.
and Max Mufler 41
THE OPEN COURT— Index to Volume I.
CORRESPONDENCE— Continued.
Thought Without Words. Correspondence between Ft. in. is Gallon,
I ieorgc Romanes, J. J. Murphy, etc., and Max Muller 472
.Nuisance, The. Caroline M. Everhard 221
Tolstoi. J. S. B 5°*
Trades-Unions and Monopoly. Harr\ C.Long. 642
Trades Union Methods, The Practical Justification of. Ham C. Long .. 762
Underwood, A Letter from Mr. 1". F., dated Aug. ao, tSS6 76+
\\ .1 .--■ . P .ems, I>. A. Kdnaii D. Cheney 279
HAGS.
Wheelbarrow, Reply by 044
Widow, His. CM. Everhard ;oo
Woman, Woman's Worst Enemy Is. II. IS. Clark 568
Woman Suffrage, An Argument for. F. M. Holland 502
Words and Thoughts. F ^3?
Word Species, The. Elissa M. Moore 537
Xcnions, Goethe and Schiller's. A Criticism. W. F. Barnard 445
Dr. Cams' Reply 446
EDITORIALS.
Alcohol Question, The 413
American Economic Association, Second An-
nual Meeting of the 246
Anarchism and Socialism 75 \
Anarchy and the Anarchist- 464
Ass iciations for the Advancement of Women, 561
Blasphemy - J 4
Books for Young People, < om ernin*; 377
Brains and Sex
Christmas Gifts 669
Competition a Condition of Progress 271
Competition, The Primitive Struggle and Mod-
ern 1S5
Concord School of Philosophy, The.. .. — 355
Convention of the Union of the Ethical Culture
Societies, Annual 592
Co-operative Congress in England 29S
Culture, Genuine vs. Spurious 131
Dangerous Classes. The 524
Darwin and His Work 40
England, A Letter from. Chappellsmith .. ., 757
Ethos Anthropoi Daimon 695
Evolution and ImmortaIit\ ~y'>
Farewell to the Re idersof the Open Court, The
Editors' 591
HAGE.
Free Religious Association. The ^2;
Freytag, Gustav. Edward C. Hegeler 640
George's Theory Proved and Disproved by The-
ology.. ... 247
« rt rman Influence in America 357
'• Heathen, An Unconverted " 150
Hypnotism, ,. 207
Ideas, The Life and Growth of 756
" It Think--." 64]
Journalism, Vicious 129
Li beralism ji ^
Lost Manuscript, The 040
Mental He.iling Craze, The 269
Metaphysicism to Positivism, From 695
Monistic Religion is to Me, What the. A Letter
- to a Highly Esteemed New Contributor.
Edward C. Hegeler 72^
Monism and Monistic Thinkers 376
Monism and Religion 6 i\
Monuments 521
Mora! and Scientific Progress. 1 -'
Oracle, An 0\ er taxed 411
Phrenology, The Old and New 433
Pleasure and Pain 495
Politician, The Shark} ;oj
Public Opinion 29- >
Pulpit Influence on Vital Questions tS6
Quid Pro Quo 245
Readers of the (.'pen Court, To the. Edward C.
Hegeler 62 1
Relativity 564
Religion in the Public Schools 73
Religion Upon a Scientific Basis 5<o
Resignation of the Late Editors, Supplement to
the Statements Relating to the. Edward C.
1 legeler 693
Revivalists We Have and the Revivalists We
Xeed, The 73
Salutatory '5
Science and Immortality 132
Science to Morals, The "Relation of 154
Science vs. Theology 43
Smyth, The Case of Prof. Egbert C 296
Thinking, Right 99
Unknowable, The '167
Vacation Time 27
Volapuk, the Universal Language 523
Woman Suffrage, The Rock Ahead in 326*
BOOK REVIEWS.
1 68
Absolute Relativism. William Bell McTaggart ....
Allston, and Other Papers, Last Evening with. Elizabeth P. Pea bod \ . 223
Aphorisms of the Three Threes. Edward O wings Towne 564
Bible, what is It? I he. Divinity of Christ, The, I. D. Shaw.
Botany, Elements of. Edson S'. Bastin, A, M., F. 11. M. S... .
44^
30
Chicago Law Times, The 56
Christianity, Crimes of. G. W. FootcandJ. M. Wheeler 539
istianity, Review of the Evidences of. Abner Kneeland, 4 4.8
Christian Science Pamphlets and Recent Literature on Mind Cure 447
Columbus; or, A Hero of the New World. D. S. Preston , . 308
Darwinism, The Ethical Import of. J. G. Schurman I'1
Earth in Space, The. Edward P. Jackson, A. M 540
Emancipation of Massachusetts, The. Brooks A. lam-- 364
Emerson, A Memoir of Ralph Waldo. James Elliot ' .... 537
Entwickelung und Gluckseligkeit. B. Carneri 2^1
Ethics. The Foundation of. Edwarde Maude, M. A 251
Ethik, Vorfragen der. Dr. Christoph Sigwart., 417
Evolution and Christianity. J. C. F. Grumbine, 539
Gedenkbuch. Erinnerung an Karl Hetnzen.
Geometry, First Steps in. La-- Lessons in thi
Richard A. Proctor
God' What and Where is. IL B. Philbrook
Diffi rential Call ulus.
lite Psvchologique. Th. Ribot
Heredity, Th. Ribot's
Heredity from God, Our. E. I*. Powell
High-Caste Hindu Woman, The. Pundita Ramabai SarasvatL.
Higher Ground. Augustus Jacobson
Histoire R-eliune^sL' du Feu. Introduction a I'Histoire Generate de
ion . Com to Goblet d'Alviella
Historical Jesus, and Other Lectures, The. Gerald Massey
Hi itory 01 England in the Eighteenth Century, A. vols. V md
l Edward I lartpole Lecky .
Relig
In the Wrong Paradise, and Other Stories. Andrev 1 ■ ;
Isaure, and Other Poems. W. Stewarl Ros;
Journal d'un Philosophe. Lucien Arrcal
Keats, John. Sidney Col vin
Leben i I nGi eines Heimathlosei 1 n
Legend Iron. Story-Land. James Vila Blake
Lcspinas.se, Lettres Medites de Mademoiselle de, Charles Fleury.
i nd Theology. Cclia Parker Woolley
Makii ■ : Great West, 'the. Samual Adam- Drakt
280
673
57o
133
139
-1:
I1 11
7.17
22 t
33 5
420
196
22\
]:'■
705
2-
7'"
55
S3*
PAGE.
Marriage and Divorce, The Clerical Combination to Influence Ci\ il Legis-
lation on. Richard Brodhead, D.D., LL.D .... 54O
Monk's Wedding, The. Conrad Ferdinand Meyer 417
Mind . 27
Mental Healing. Facts and Fictions of. Charles M. Barrows.. 446
Origin of the Fittest, E. D. Cope's The. E. D. Powell ill
Parleyings with People of Importance in Their Day. Robert Browning. 112
Philosophische Kriticismus, Prof. A. Riehl's Der. G. V. Gizycki 105
Philosophical Realism. William Icrin Gill.. . S3
Phvsiologv and Psychology . S. V. Clevenger's Comparative 139
Pine and Palm. M.D.Conway 604
Pioneer Quakers. The. Richard P. HallowelJ 16S
Poems. By David At wood Wasson 674
Poems and Essays. James Vila Blake 54'
Poems and Translations. By Mary Morgan ( Gowan Lea 1 &?
Poet Laureate, To the
Practical Piety. Jenkins Llovd Jones
Problem of Evil. The. Daniel Greenleaf Thompson 334
Progress, The Scientific Basis of. G. Gore, LL.D., F.R. S 447
Property and the Ownership of Land, The Right of. W. T. H rris 60;
Psalms, The Story of the. Henry Van Dyke, P.D 7.s7
Publications of John B. Alden, Recent $&
Random Recollections. Henry B. Stanton 54°
Recollections of a Minister to France, E. B. Washburne, LL.D 605
Religious Sentiment, The. Daniel G. Brinton, A. M., M. D 107
Religiose und Wissenschaftliche Weltanschauung, LTeber. Prof. Dr. L.
Buchner 5°3
Sailing of King Olaf and Other Poems, The. Alice Williams Brotherton,, 30S
Shakespearean Drama, The. Denton J. Snider 005
Shayhaeks in Camp, The: Ten Summers Under Canvas. Samuel J. Bar-
rows and Isabel C Barrows 393
Skat, the German Game of Cards, An Illustrated Grammar of. Ernst
Eduard Lemcke 252
Social Equilibriums and Other Problems, Ethical and Religious. George
Batchelor 57°
Sunday Law of Massachusetts, The 27
Thackeray, A Collection of Letters of 539
Trv-Square, or The Church of Practical Religion. Reporter 2S0
Uplifts of Heart and Will 252
Utilitarianism, Sketch of a New. W. Douw Eighth all, M. A., B. C. L.. .. 447
White Cockades. Edward Irenams Stevenson 570
Wundt's Ethics. Paul Cams 13S
Zury: The Meanest Man in Spring County. Joseph Kirkland 252
■ rial articles from page 640 to end of present volume were written under the editorial management of Dr. Paul Carus;
under tin' editorial management of Mr, and Mrs IV V. Underwood.
The Open Court
A Fortnightly Journal,
Devoted to the Work of Establishing Ethics and Religion Upon a Scientific Basis.
Vol. I. No. i.
CHICAGO, FEBRUARY 17, 1887.
\ Three Dollars per Year.
) Single Copies, 15 cts.
SOCIETY AND THE INDIVIDUAL.
BY WILLIAM I POTTER.
It the fundamental question of the relation of indi-
vidual existence and of individual welfare to the aggre-
gate power and well-being of societv could he settled,
with it some of the foremost problems of the day in
social, political and ethical philosophy would find their
solution. This fundamental question is behind the
struggle that is going on between labor and capital. It
is involved in the various theories of socialism, commun-
ism, anarchism, which are now claiming public atten-
tion. In political science, it is behind the problem
whether government shall be protective, educational,
paternal, or merely representative of such conditions and
needs as are strictly common to all individual citizens.
And in ethics the most perplexing problems are con-
cerned, not with the relation of one individual to another,
but with the relation between a single individual on one
side and the whole aggregate of individuals, as repre-
sented bv public opinion, custom, law, on the other side.
Are there, then, anv general principles bearing upon
this central question of the relation of the individual to
society which will help toward a solution of these spe-
cific problems?
It seems to me that there are such principles. And
one of the first among them is that nature in this
matter should be our teacher; not material nature
merely, but nature in its broad meaning as including
man as well as the physical universe — nature as cover-
ing the whole of that spinal world-plan by which, as
science assures us, from the amorphous, chaotic mass of
primitive matter, with whatever forces were inherent in
it, there came successively all the various orders of being
known to earth, on an ascending scale of organic capac-
ity and function, until man was reached, with his com-
manding intellect, his moral sense, his creative purpose
and will to be guided by reason and right.
And how has nature, or the power within or behind
nature, wrought in this world-process? Not to go into
details, it has worked by the method of differentiation;
that is, by successive separations of the amorphous mass
of primitive matter and the gradual production of spe-
cific and individual forms of existence, each still in some
way dependent upon or related to the parent mass and
its forces, but taking on organic vitality, functions and
power of its own. As this process of concentrating the
forces of existence and life in specific forms has con-
tinued, the organism has become more complex and
capable, its functions more various and effective, its
power both more extensive and more exquisite. To
make strong species and individuals as instrumentalities
for continuing its energy and developing its life, appears
to be nature's aim. And this is done through the
instinct of self-preservation; or the natural impulse of
every organic existence to maintain and hold its exist-
ence against all opposition. From this instinct have
come the labor and struggle for food, the storing of food
for future use, the efforts to defend life and strengthen
its powers of resistance to disaster, the desire and acquisi-
tion of property, and the strife for property beyond anv
immediate need as representing enlarged means of living.
Some of the developed phases of the instinct of self-
preservation are common to all orders of animal life
and some of them are peculiar to the human race. In
short, it may be said that nature produces strong, capa-
ble, masterful individuals and races through the princi-
pal of selfism ; or of each being put under necessity to
care for its own existence, to maintain its own rights, to
provide for its own sustenance and prosperity. Thus
faculty is trained and skill and power acquired.
But this concentration of energy in individual faculty
and power is clearly not nature's highest nor final achieve-
ment. This is means, not an end. So far, at least, as
concerns the forms of life below man, it does not appear
that the individual organism exists for its own sake, but
for the sake of the species to which it belongs; and the
species again, it may be, for the sake of some larger
realm of life. Nature insists, by the necessary condi-
tions of existence, that the individual shall make itself
as strong and bring itself as near to perfection as possi-
ble; yet not for the sake of its own power and glory
(for these soon pass away ), but that it may transmit so
much of added power and organic perfection to the
common stock of the race of which it is a part. Nature's
aim is higher, broader, richer life; better forms for
retaining and maturing life; organisms in which intel-
lectual emotion and skill shall attain mastery over brute
force. Though the individual, therefore, is instinctively
compelled to live and struggle for self-existence, yet the
outcome of individual existence is by no means confined
to the individual career and attainment, but it goes to
THE OPEN COURT.
shape and modify the current of this unceasing tide of
ascending, universal life.
What, then, is the application of this lesson from
nature to the problem of the relation between individual
man and human society? The lesson, in its first part, is
plainly this: There can be no sound plans for the devel-
opment of human society, no social-reform schemes, no
settlements of disturbing social problems, which ignore
and try to leave out of account this element of natural en-
ergy applied to individualistic ends; this instinct to seek,
acquire and preserve the things that gratify individual
life. The instinct may take a high form or it may take
a low form. It may be degraded to the miser's passion,
which merely clutches and hordes possessions without
caring for their uses; or it may appear in the daily indus-
try and economy of the mechanic, to the end that he
may have a house of his own for his wife and children,
and put within it the things that shall make it a home;
or it may show itself in the sagacity and enterprise of
the merchant or manufacturer, who easily makes a mill-
ionaire's fortune, while he organizes industries on a large
scale and furnishes employment to a whole community.
The impulse to individual acquisition and to secure a
more advantageous position in the world may, of course,
be nourished to excess and become an unjust and
grasping passion; it may grow abnormal and become a
disease; but in itself it has been such a fundamental con-
dition of the world's evolution and progress, both in
physical nature and in humanity, that I think that those
persons who now propose to reorganize society without
this factor should understand that their scheme not only
revolutionizes human society to its foundations, but goes
below humanity to antagonize the order of things in
nature; and for success, therefore, their first measure
should be to ask for a different plan of the universe than
that under which mankind have come into being. Dan-
gerous as is the impulse to individual acquisition when
developed to excess, it is not so fatally dangerous as
would be the organization of society without this impulse
at all, if such a thing were possible. The former pro-
duces very serious evils, but evils which society as it
advances may throw off. But the latter would produce
stagnation and stop the wheels of all advance. With
all its evils, the impulse to individual property, individual
freedom, individual advantage, has been the main motive-
power of the world's progress. It has been the nour-
isher of noble ambitions. Through it human faculty
has been elicited, intellectual resources have been devel-
oped as would not otherwise have been possible, and
character has been disciplined to self-control and to mas-
tery of material forces. The time certainly has not yet
come for omitting this factor from the motives of human
activity.
But there is a second part to nature's lesson. The
various schemes of social reorganization that are pro-
claimed have their cause in certain social evils which
cry aloud for remedy. The ambitions and energies of
individuals in enlarging the sphere of their own exist-
ence, though to so great an extent the motive-power of
civilization, are constantly running to excess and driv-
ing on rough-shod over the weaker members of society.
Hence, there are wrongs, injustices and cruelties; selfish
and despotic assertion of power on the one side, unjust
deprivations and slaveries on the other side. Yet here,
too, nature may teach us and indicate the remedy. In
the lower realm of life, while the individual is carefully
trained as a concentrator and distributor of vital energy,
the individual development, activity and aggrandizement
are not the end. These, we have seen, are only instru-
mental. The end is the furthering and improving of
the life of the species. The end, therefore, is not indi-
vidual, but general, universal. The same law holds
good for humanity, with the added force that it becomes
for humanity a moral law. Individual human beings,
through the instincts of self-preservation and self-
aggrandizement, which are by nature especially strong
in the earlier years of life, are made concentrators of
those energies which keep the whole social organism in
healthful activity and progress. Nature has put a tremen-
dous force into these instincts and has thereby produced
strong individual agents as effective centers of her
power. But individual acquisition, pleasure, power,
are not the end with man more than with the orders of
life below him. The end is the common good, the gen-
eral well-being. Every individual right maintained,
every individual acquisition gained, every position of
individual advantage secured, carries with it a corre-
sponding obligation to society.
And here is where the law of ethics and the obliga-
tions of religion bear upon social problems. Man
knows through his reason and conscience that there is a
higher realm of life than that which is indicated in the
natural impulse to seek individual property, pleasure
and power. He knows the higher and larger objects
which all individual acquisitions should be made to serve.
He is gifted with the faculty to judge life by its mental,
moral and affectional wealth. Though he sees that no
statute-law can or ought to equalize all human beings in
respect to faculties, acquisitions or influence, yet he recog-
nizes that the law of justice should come to the aid
of the weak and ill-conditioned against the encroach-
ments of the strong and the excesses of self-interest,
and that precisely in proportion as any person has been
able to utilize the vital energies of the universe to his
own profit and power, such person owes back to the
universe a corresponding service of benefit. The spe-
cial acquisition, whatever it be — wealth, sagacity, learn-
ing— is not his to use for his own selfish pleasure and
increased advantage. It belongs to the great world-
forces whence it came. Their aim is ever larger,
THE OPEN COURT.
better, nobler life, and to the furtherance of that aim he
is bound by the highest moral and religious obligation
to give back his special talents with interest.
Nor let it be said that this is to apply a merely ideal
ethics to evils that require the stern treatment of law and
governmental authority. Statute-law should, indeed, be
dictated by justice, and governmental authority must
meantime keep the peace between clashing self-interests.
Yet the appeal to moral law is no idle nor ineffective
method for dealing with practical social evils. Again
and again have classes and races of mankind been lifted to
the enjoyment of their rights and liberties by the surely
wrought effects of that appeal. These are the meliora-
tions which mark the progress of the higher civiliza-
tion, for which individual self-interest and enterprise
only furnish the rough material.
THE NEED FOR FREE THOUGHT EDUCATION.
BY THOMAS DAVIDSON.
How little the American people really understand
the nature of true freedom is shown by the disrepute
which attaches to the term free-thinker. The merest
tyro in ethics knows that free thinking is the very first
condition of all freedom; that without it no freedom of
any kind is possible. The man, or body of men, that
can enslave thought, that can dictate what others shall,
and shall not, think and believe, has his gyves on the
wrists, and his hand on the throat, of Freedom. Nay,
more, he who would bind Freedom hand and foot, must
put a stop to free thought. If thought be free, all else
will soon be free; if thought be in bonds, all else will
soon share its captivity. And this the oppressors of the
earth have at all times known but too well; they know
it but too well to-day. The greatest foe to human liberty
at this hour, the greatest foe to our Republic and
all that it means, is the Church, which combats and dis-
credits freedom of thought.
Partially conscious of this, we have, in our political
theory, drawn a sharp line between the State and the
Church, declaring that the two have separate and inde-
pendent functions. So far, this is well. But, so long
as the Church is allowed to teach her doctrines, without
being called upon to defend them at the bar of science,
so long will she exercise a darkening and enslaving in-
fluence upon men, so long will she unfit men for being
worthy citizens of a free Republic.
And yet, while the Church is so strongly entrenched
in the affections, habits and prejudices of the people
whom she has enslaved, we cannot hope to cite her be-
fore the bar of reason and compel her to show cause
why she should not be treated as a spiritual charlatan.
Indeed, so far has the tvrannical influence of the Church
extended that even men who are ready enough to dis-
pute her claims have been bamboozled into thinking that
it is bad taste to speak against them. Charlatanry has
surely won its crowning victory, when it has stopped
the mouth of honesty and surrounded itself with the
halo of reverend sainthood.
But, though we cannot at present call upon the
Church to substantiate her supernatural claim to direct
and enthrall men's thoughts, we may d© something to
weaken her influence and to protect a portion, at least,
of our people from her obscuring teachings.
It may, perhaps, be thought sufficient for this end, if
young people are prudently kept away from those places
where these teachings are to be heard, and if such teach-
ings are excluded from the public schools; but this is, in
reality, a mistake. If we will protect young people
from ecclesiastical obscurantism, we must go farther
than this and put something in the place of the Church's
teachings. The truth is, these teachings are pretended
solutions of questions that not only exist, but that force
themselves upon every thoughtful man and claim his
deepest attention. To put men off, as the Church does,
with an authoritative answer, which is, indeed, no answer
at all, is a piece of the most utter frivolity, an unsurpass-
able lesson in intellectual impiety and dishonesty — the
source of all other dishonest}'. The great questions
with which the Church deals we must ourselves take up,
bring them to the attention of young people and
encourage these to exercise their deepest reflection on
them. It is by no means necessary that we should offer
complete answers to these questions, as the Church does;
indeed, we cannot do so, without imitating the Church's
impiety; but we can state the questions correctly and
encourage persons to place themselves in an earnest,
scientific attitude toward them. Only in this way can
we rear a race of earnest men, bravely conscious of their
own limitations and of the awful mystery that surrounds
their lives.
I think the advocates of free thought have been far
too remiss in this matter. They have not sufficiently
guarded those whose education was in their hands from
obscurantist influences, and they have not prepared any
means for increasing, by a rational and scientific educa-
tion, the number of intelligent and devoted free-think-
ers. While every obscurantist sect, small or large, has
its educational institutions, in which its soul-enslaving
dogmas are taught and impressed with more or less
tremendous sanctions, free-thinkers have not a single
institution where pure science and the earnest scientific
attitude with reference to all cpiestions are inculcated;
nay, they even permit institutions founded, like Girard
College, for the furtherance of free thought, to fall
into the hands of enslaved thinkers.
And, yet, it is perfectly evident that our battle for
free thought against the powers of time-honored char-
latanry will be in vain, until exercise in free thought is
THE OPEN COURT.
made an essential part of education, until perfect piety
of intellect is made the basis of morality. It is not
enough to refrain from the Church's teachings and
methods; we must replace them by other teachings and
methods. Above all, we must have institutions where
there is an atmosphere of free thought — a thing which
is sadly lacking in our public schools and in main higher
institutions of learning that do not professedly teach
the Church's doctrines. Our attitude toward science in
the highest things must not be merely negative to the
Church's attitude, it must be positive. If we could only
make it so, we should soon come to the conviction that
our public education needs to be reformed from the very
foundation — to be stripped of its mediaevalism, its
sentimentality, its formality, and placed upon a basis of
science and of nature.
I shall never believe that the free-thinkers of the
United States are really in earnest, until thev begin to
establish schools of their own for the diffusion of the
principles and methods of free thought. Here we have
much to learn from the Roman Catholic Church, whose
members, while compelled to pay their share of the
public school tax, nevertheless establish schools of their
own, in order that their children may be reared in the
teachings and atmosphere of their faith. If free-
thinkers had half the earnestness of Roman Catholics,
free thought would make more rapid progress than it
does.
I hope a new impulse will be given to free thought
and intellectual piety by The Open Court. If so, I
wish to take advantage of that impulse to call the atten-
tion of free-thinkers to the need of a new education
conducive to free thought. I wish to see whether,
among the open-handed free-thinkers of our country,
there be not one or two who would turn their liberality
in the direction of an educational institution for the
children of free-thinkers, and whether there be not
earnest-minded teachers, weary of the trammels of
orthodoxy and intellectual slavery, who would combine
to establish an educational institution pledged to impart
a scientificallv-based education extending to all the facul-
ties of body and soul. I am convinced that the results
attained by a single such institution, managed by persons
aware of the magnitude and importance of the enter-
prise, would be so striking that it would soon be imitated
throughout the length and breadth of the land, wherever
there are men and women that have not bowed the knee
to the Baal of authority and habit.
What is needed, to begin with, is an institution of
higher education, a college or academy for voung men
and women who have arrived at that period of life
when thev begin to frame for themselves a theorv of
the universe and of life and to lay out their life plans.
It is then that young people can best acquire that habit
of earnestness and pietv to truth which is the very
essence of free thinking. Who then will aid in raising
that first bulwark of free thought — a free-thought
college?
KATZENJAMMER.
BY W. D. GUNNING.
Katzenjammer is a German word which means "cat-
sickness." Our neighbors on the Rhine express by this
word a mood of mind or malady of bodv which results
from night-life.
The cat, as every one knows, is addicted to the old
vice of the feline race, nocturnal wanderings, leading
often to noisy demonstrations on roof-poles. Domesti-
cation has not eradicated the old jungle-habit of the race.
If there is one lesson which nature teaches to all her
children more clearly than any other it is that day is the
time for action and night the time for sleep.
" Now c;ime still ev'ning on and twilight gray
Had in her sober liv'ry all things clad.
Silence accompanied; for beast and bird,
They to their grassy couch and these to
Their nests were slunk."
This is Milton's picture of nature in times when the
world was paradise, that is, a garden of delight.
From the inwreathing of Orion's nebula will come
the axial rotation of the planets to be born of that nebula.
The oldest fact recorded in the history of a globe is its
axial rotation. But when the stomach came nature was
stronger in hunger than in the rotation which brought
the alternation of day and night. Struggle to supply
the need of the stomach drove many forms of life into
night-work. The owl, the night-hawk, the whip-
poor-will became nocturnal. All the felines became
night-prowlers.
Nature, speaking one language to her children in
light, spoke another language in heat. The sun with
his shafts of light to waken the sleeper sent shafts of
heat to drive him deeper into the shade. All tropical
lands have been given over to Katzenjammer. Like
the stillness and solitude of a polar night is the stillness
of a tropic day. Like the noises of Bedlam are the
screachings and howlings of a tropic night. Our own
Arizona, in summer, is a scene of Katzenjammer.
Neither insect nor scorpion nor rattlesnake will disturb
you by day. The heat makes them nocturnal. As the
cat, transplanted to other climes, retains something of
the old equatorial cat, so does tropic man, transplanted,
retain a tendency to night-life. I have observed in the
colored men of the South a strong tendency to Katzen-
jammer. The pine woods of Florida are often vocal
with their night melodies.
We have gone astray with the cat. Katzenjammer
is an old disease and in one phase it has killed more
human beings than all microbes, those shafts of unarmed
Mars. I have sometimes thought that the best act
recorded of any god was an act of father Zeus on
the: o p k n co it rt.
Olvmpus. Zeus was not permitted to rattle a thunder-
bolt at a man without the consent of the synod of gods.
He was not allowed to hurl a bolt without the consent
of the Involuti, the solemn veiled gods. Once, from
his throne on Olvmpus, he saw a man at the foot of the
mountain in the most unnatural Katzenjammer. He-
sprang to his feet, seized the hottest bolt in the armory
of Olvmpus, wrote on it sus philco and hurled it at the
unnatural wretch. It struck and stuck and from that
dav the disease which spread among mortals has been
known under the name which Zeus wrote on his thunder-
bolt. The only crime which was flagrant enough to
cut the red tape of heaven was that which gendered a
contagious and hereditary scourge. That scourge has
destroyed nations. The Katzenjammer of King David
destroyed the autonomy of the Jews. The debased old
King died of the disease gendered, according to Greek
mythology, at the foot of Olympus. The bolt which
Zeus threw, by a fiat of Olympus or Sinai or Mem, or
any other god-throne, would stick in his posterity to the
end of his line. Solomon came with the bolt which
rotted the loins of his father, burning his blood. Reho-
boam came, a copy of his father Solomon. Then came
the cry " To your tents, O Israel," and the Jewish nation
was rent in twain.
What a young fellow for Katzenjammer was Alci-
biades! Politician and night-prowler he was. The
Athenian dinner part)' was, like our own, an affair of
the night and the bill of fare, like our own, was written
in a foreign tongue. Unlike our own, it was not graced
with the presence of woman. At the Athenian dinner
party, Socrates, who, with all his virtues, was somewhat
addicted to Katzenjammer, was a good symposiarchos,
a majister bibendi. He is said to have played on musical
instruments late at night and doubtless this was the real
and sufficient cause of his taking off. But the best pict-
ure of Athenian night-life was Alcibiades prowling
about the streets and entering, an unbidden guest, any
house where he saw the lights and heard the night revel.
His cat-sickness, Katzenjammer, wreaked itself in the
cutting off of the tail of his dog. Katzenjammer was
a large factor in the decline of Athens and the chief
factor in the fall of Rome. What a Katzenjammer
band was that of Cataline! What Katzenjammer was
that of Nero, fiddling to the light of burning Rome!
Still greater was the Katzenjammer of Ahasuerus,
written in Hebrew scripture. This great king, with his
court and his satraps, was on a drunken revel one hundred
and eighty days. It closed in a grand climax lasting
a week. The government of Persia was gloriously
drunk. The king sent messengers to Vashti, the queen,
demanding that she present herself to his night revelers.
She refused to go. Her language is not reported, but
I think the letter she sent to her husband was in words
like these :
My Dear Has :
When you have had enough of this Katzenjammer
and you and your ministers of state and satraps are
sober and washed and your palace is fumigated it will
give me pleasure to hold a reception with you. But you
will excuse me from presenting myself as an exhibi-
tion to the caterwauling government of Persia and
Medea. -.- , ,
1 our most loving,
Vash.
What was the sequel? • Vashti was dethroned and
divorced, the Supreme Court of Persia deciding that such
an example of insubordination must not stand as a " prec-
edent " to other wives. The Supreme Court of Persia
made a sort of Dred Scott decision. It ruled that a
decent wife has no rights which a drunken husband is
bound to respect. (Lawyers and judges who, time out
of mind, have sought the highest wisdom in the remotest
antiquity, may find this decision in Parmashata Reports.
Volume 2Sth, Has vs. Vash; decision rendered by Chief
Justice Parshandatha; associate Justices, Daphlon, Aspa-
tha and Hammedatha; no dissenting opinion. Our
courts, reverend conservators of society, will find much
in this decision to buttress their opinions on the woman
question.)
Ahasuerus then married a Jewess whose name was
Esther, and this Esther, with the crown of Vashti on
her brow, instigated a bit of night-work on her own
account. It began with the hanging of Hainan and ended
with the murder of seventy-five thousand men, women and
••little ones." No; this was not quite the end. Ahas-
uerus called on the godly Esther and said (I give a free
translation): "My dear, your wishes have been carried
into execution. I cannot tell you exactly what has been
done in other parts of the kingdom, but here in the royal
palace alone are five hundred murdered men lying in their
gore. You can dabble your hands in their blood if you
wish. And now, my dear, my lamb, is there anything else
I can do for you?" And Esther said: "Yes, let men
hang. (This is literal.) Let the Jews do to-morrow
as they have done to-day and let the ten sons of Haman
be hanged." And Ahasuerus said: "Very well, my
dove, it shall be done according to the sweetness of your
will." It was done, and a modern pulpiter, whose name
is Talmage, preaches a sermon in praise of the noble
Esther and reprobation of the "flashy" (his own word),
the flashy Vashti.
This is rather a sickening sequel to a hundred and
eighty nights of Katzenjammer. I am afraid that Will
Shakespeare was addicted to a mild sort of Katzenjam-
mer. Byron's life was filled with Katzenjammer and
the vices incident to night-life. Byron died early of
cat-sickness. And poor Burns, instead of going to bed
early and honestly like his Cotter, went Katzenjammer
like his Tam O'Shanter.
" Gie me a canny hour at e'en,
My arms around my deary,"
THE OPEN COURT.
I am afraid the canny hour with his Anna was long
drawn out.
" The Church and State may join to tell,
To do such things ye maun na,
The church and state may gang to hell,
And I'll gang to my Anna."
The Church and State were right and Burns went to
his Anna — and his grave. How fares it with us? The
army of night-toilers is increasing and night-revelers
are multiplying. The world of business and fashion
dines at six and goes Katzenjammer till the small hours
of the morning. Our White House was given over
during the last administration to social Katzenjammer —
and the President is dead.
" Can these things be
And overcome us like a summer's cloud?"
The struggle of the organic world is two-fold, for
sunshine and for nutriment. What has sent the Se-
quoia of California spiring up into the heaven three
hundred and fifty feet ? Search for the sun. Environed
by shrubs this tree itself would have been a shrub. But
its neighbors are pines and cedars which rise to the
height of two hundred feet, weaving a curtain of inter-
lacing bows between the sun and the weeds below.
Plant your potato in a cellar and mark the pale and
sickly hue of the vine which attempts to grow from it.
Its disease is Katzenjammer, that is, night-sickness. Look
at your pea-nut. Struggle against enemies in the air has
driven this member of the pea family to develop its pod
in the ground and the vegetal virtues which come from
impact of light and actinic beams of the sun are wanting
in this plebeian nut — which is no nut at all. Look at
the mole and then at the bat. Their embryotic history
shows that they were derived from a common ancestor.
Struggle for life drove certain members of this family
higher into the air and others into the ground. The
sun-seeker gained in eye and brain. The earth-burrower
lost its eyes and retained only brain enough to guide it
through the ground. The bat lapsed when it fell into
Katzenjammer, that is, night-prowling.
I do not know what was the health of the tiger and
lion before they went into Katzenjammer. The dissect-
ing knife of Gerard shows that now these nocturnal
felines suffer much from consumption. I know not the
flavor of the ancient pea before it became a pea-nut. I
know that the topmost, sun-drinking peach has a richer
flavor than the peach below. I know the character of
the ancient orange which grew in the shaded recesses of
the tree, for it survives in the wild orange. I know that
the fruit grew luscious as the tree learned to push it out
on the sun-lit periphery.
On the tree of life where now is our peripheral hu-
manity? With less wisdom than the orange tree Ig-
drasil has been pushing its human fruit inward to the
shade. We want a peripheral humanity, lit by beams
of science and sweetened and mellowed by actinic rays
of the sun of righteousness.
In these thoughts I am saying my words of welcome
to a new-born journal which through- long years to come
may do noble work in winning men from spiritual
Katzenjammer. Scratched and thorned your hands may
often be in trying to reach the shaded, centripetal fruit
on Igdrasil and bring it out to the periphery. Ances-
tral tendencies are against you, but they are not omnipo-
tent. By pruning and enriching I have lifted the state of
an orange tree, abolishing thorns and letting the sunlight
in to dispel the infestations which in dark coverts were
eating the tree's life. In hopeful moods I have thought
that I may have wrought similar amelioration on men,
here and there a man, causing thorns of bigotry to abort
and sending shafts of light into the dark recesses of the
mind where infestations of superstition were eating the
soul's life.
Prune and fertilize; fertilize to fullness of life and
healthful growth and the vis viva will prune. Let your
shafts of light in on the dark coverts where superstitions
do knot and gender.
In the darkest covert dwelt Yahweh, the god of Israel.
No beam of light pierced the shekinah, the holy of
holies, where Yahweh was enthroned. Even his throne
on the firmament was pavilioned with darkness.
"He bowed the firmament and came down
With storm-clouds under his feet.
He rode on a thunder-cloud and flew
And shot forth on the wings of the wind.
He veiled himself in a mantle of darkness
And shrouded himself in dark waters and masses of cloud."
His shekinah to-day is the sunless recesses of the human
mind. Let the shekinah of your temple be all ablaze
with light! Couch not, shudder not, before the awful
sanctities of darkness.
KING VOLTAIRE.
BY FREDERIC MAY HOLLAND.
The seventy years of preparation for the French
Revolution can have no name so appropriate as the
Reign of Voltaire. His literary -influence began in
1 7 1 S and gradually became greater, especially during
his last thirty years, than any other author has ever
wielded consciously for so long. Luther's leadership
was comparatively brief, and Goethe's had no such defin-
ite aim or triumphant success. No other thinker ever
saw the great reform, which cost him a whole life in
exile, finally become through his efforts universal and
permanent in all civilized lands. Rightly does Lowell
say that: "To him more than to any other man we owe
it that we can now think and speak as we choose." He
led Europe out of the persecutions and religious wars
which had cursed mankind ever since the advent of
Christianity. The tolerant and otherwise human meas-
ures of Frederic of Prussia and Catherine of Russia
were avowedly accomplished under his direction ; and so,
THE OPEN COURT.
7
in reality, were the corresponding reforms in all Roman
Catholic lands. Even the Pope acknowledged Vol-
taire's primacy and, when he plavfullv expressed a wish
to get the ears of the grand inquisitor, sent him word
that the inquisition no longer had either ears or e\ es.
The English sovereigns and archbishops openly favored
his great work; as did the Swedish, Danish and Polish
rnonarchs; so that he said: '• I always manage to keep
four kings in my hand." Goethe calls him the univer-
sal source of light; Condorcet declares that no one else
ever had such an empire over men; and Rousseau con-
fesses that from him came his own original inspiration.
Among other contemporaries who owned Voltaire's
supremacy were Chatham, Franklin, Turgot, Diderot,
D'Alembert, Gibbon and Goldoni. No wonder that his
out-of-the-way retreat was crowded with admiring visi-
tors; or that his last visit to Paris was such an ovation,
as was never received bv any other author. It was all
the more glorious because the nominal king did not dare
to let him enter the palace or be honored with a public
burial. Even the announcement of his death was for-
bidden, in a terror amply justified in 1791, when free
France carried his ashes to the Pantheon, with such
universal homage as few other dead men have ever
received and none of them deserved so well.
His greatness as an author would be more apparent
if the man had not been greater still, so great, in fact,
as to devote himself, from first to last, to fighting one of
the worst of evils, with a zeal which made him seek to
give point and force, rather than luster or finish, to his
works, and own that he had too much baggage to reach
posterity. He wrote for his day ; and it was dark and
bloody enough to need every word. The wealth which
he won in commerce was freelv spent in finding read-
ers. Among his most kingly words are these: "Those
who say I sell my books are wretches, who try to think
in order to live, f have lived only to think. No, I
have never peddled my thoughts!" His use of more
than a hundred fictitious names is not like an ideal king;
but most of the actual ones have been only too ready to
employ worse frauds. Very few have been so ready as
he to take sides with the persecuted. His treatise on
Toleration, which, according to Franklin, dealt bigotry
so unexpected and heavy a blow as was almost fatal,
was called out by a wrong which the government at
first refused to right, and which his friends advised him
to overlook. An aged Protestant, named Calas, was
tortured to death at Toulouse, early in 1762, on the
charge of haying murdered his son, in order to prevent
his conversion to the Catholic church, which had, in
fact, so blighted the voung man's career as to make him
hang himself. All the property was confiscated, and
the daughters of the family were imprisoned in convents
in order to force them into apostasy. This outrage on
Piutestaul girls had long been customary and had been
joined in by Fenelon. Another such victim, Elizabeth
Sirven, had been scourged into insanity and had drowned
herself soon after her release. Her father, mother and
sisters escaped the fate of Calas bv a flight which left
them beggars ami cost the life of an unborn child. Roth
families found a deliverer in Voltaire. It cost him ^o,-
000 francs and three years of constant labor, including
the writing of countless letters and the publication of
seven pamphlets, to get the sentence of Calas revoked,
the daughters released and the family provided for. To
obtain justice for the Sirvens took ten years, though
their trial had lasted but two hours. These iniquities
were probably not the first of the kind; but we owe it to
Voltaire that they were the last; just as his protests,
when La Barre was beheaded, in 1 766, with the approval
of Louis XV., for some boyish ebullitions of irreverence,
saved the history of France from being stained bv anv
more such records. This time, however, the sentence
was not annulled; nor was another of the young blas-
phemers, who had fled to Prussia, ever permitted to
return. Indignation at these outrages and their apolo-
gists moved Voltaire to keep St. Bartholomew's day in
anger and humiliation ( while Toulouse and other cities
made it a public jubilee), to sign letter after letter with
that war-cry against the bloody church, " Ecrasc: TJIn-
fame" to write his sharpest books and to scatter them
broadcast by every artifice. He was nearly seventy at
the time of the execution of Calas, but before reaching
eighty he published a hundred new books, mostlv satires
of the persecutors, or pathetic pictures of the sufferings
of the victims, among whom Servetus was not forgot-
ten. To this period belong some of his most impressive
and original writings, those tales now fortunately
accessible to English readers in Eckler's spirited ver-
sion. And he then compiled, in part from matter
already published, that stupendous arsenal of weapons
against bigotry, the Philosophic Dictionary, of which a
good translation was bequeathed us by Abner Kneeland.
The main difficulty in giving any adequate idea of the
merits of Voltaire's writings is that the keenness of his
wit is dulled by handling. Perhaps this extract from
a work of his not yet translated, nor likely to be, Le
Soitisier, may give some hint of the pleasure which can
be enjoved bv reading him in the original. A Jesuit
was once asked, why so many fools were admitted into
his order. "Oh, well," he answered, -'we have to
have some saints of our own." Put Voltaire's best
works were those commemorated in the inscription
placed upon his sarcophagus, in the majestic ovation of
17c)!. •• He avenged Calas, Sirven, La Barre."
With these names was recorded that of Montbailli,
who was executed on a false charge of murdering his
mother. His innocence was established, and his wife
saved from perishing likewise, by Voltaire, One more
name, itt least, ought to hayc been placed beside the-;
8
THE OPEN COURT.
four. General Lally had been beheaded in 1 766 as a
traitor, because he could not prevent the English from
conquering India. For thirteen years he had an indefat-
igable champion, who called himself " The Don Quixote
of the unfortunate," kept busy at it night and dav, even
when he was almost eighty, and signed his letters as
'The Ghost of Voltaire." Finally, as he was on his
death-bed, a message came, saying that Lally had been
pronounced innocent. He ordered the good news to be
written out in large hand and set up before his eyes, and
then dictated his last letter to the son of the murdered
soldier, saying that the dying man revived at hearing of
this great act of justice and would die in peace. This
we know he did, four days later, May 30, 177S. He
had the more right to do so, as he might have thought,
not only of the Sirvens and Calas, but of other Protest-
ants rescued from the galleys where they had been sent
for sheltering their ministers of girls made happv and
honored mothers, instead of wretched nuns, of cottages
built and marshes drained for poor peasants, of large sums
loaned without interest, of debtors released from prisons,
of servants assisted by the master they had robbed to
escape the gallows and become honest men, of free
schools, plantations of trees and great improvements in
agriculture, of the reduction of taxation throughout an
entire province, of the sale of grain at low prices during
famine, of a colony of more than a hundred families of
exiles furnished with comfortable homes and provided
with the best of markets for their watches and other
manufactures, of a hospitality which filled his house,
notonlv with transient visitors from all parts of Europe,
but with permanent dependents, so that Ferney has been
called a Noah's Ark crowded with all the wild and tame
beasts; of a boundless charity attested by a formal declar-
ation of the village officials, that no one who dwelt there
had ever asked relief in vain, and of a sunny gayety
and courtesy which kept his home always bright. He
delighted to say: " I have done a little good; it is my
best work." He would have done much more if greater
heed had been given to his entreaties, that war should
be given up, all serfs emancipated, women kept no
longer in subjection, all classes protected equally, com-
merce relieved from heavy tariffs, the clergv and nobil-
ity compelled to pay their share of the taxes, meat
allowed to be sold and eaten in Lent, Paris supplied
with water-works, the weights, measures and laws made
uniform all over France, capital punishment restricted
greatly, or else relinquished, trial by jury introduced,
torture of prisoners and confiscation of property of crim-
inals abolished, lawyers heard for the accused, witnesses
examined publicly and prisons cleansed from the diseases
then so deadly. "You have a right to say, 'The
nations will pray that their kings may read me,' " writes
an admiring' monarch.
Voltaire was more of a reformer than a revolution-
ist. His earlier writings praise England as a political
model; but in 1762 he published his opinion, that the
best of all governments is a republic. His declarations,
that all men are born free and equal, and that despotic
and monarchical mean the same to all sensible men,
were made before our Revolution, which he favored so
warmly as to lament the reverses of the Continentals
and strike a medal to Washington. A quarter of a
century before the taking of the Bastile, he stirred up
great excitement in Paris by predicting the French
Revolution. Rightly did it honor him among its
prophets. After it had failed for the time, his memory
was still so mighty against Napoleon, that he did his
utmost to blacken it.
It was love for liberty and humanity which led Vol-
taire to make war upon Christianity, then much less
innocent of cruelty or tyranny than now. His main
arguments are the persecutions which the Church was
then carrying on, and the atrocious precepts and exam-
ples in the Old Testament, still too much in honor for
the safety of morals. Ingersoll's indictment is not more
complete or more witty than his; but Voltaire was much
less shocked by the absurdities in the Bible than by the
immoralities. He anticipated Colenso, and declared
that, if he should see the sun stand still and the dead
arise, he should exclaim : " Behold the evil principle
undoing what the good has wrought!" But he
objects to no miracle so sharply as to that of Ananias
and Sapphira, which enabled the clergy to say: "Give
me all thy property, or I will bring about thy death."
He calls Paul the real founder of Christianity, but
always speaks of Jesus with respect, saying: " He would
have condemned our Christianity with horror," " I
defend Jesus against you, in denying that he scourged
the innocent buvers and sellers in the temple, or drowned
the two thousand pigs and withered the fig-tree, which
were the property of others." Among the texts against
which he protests is: " Wives, submit yourselves unto
your own husbands, as unto the Lord." He pictures a
fair Parisian reading this for the first time and throwing
down the book. .She is told that the author is St. Paul,
but answers: " I don't care who he is: he is very impo-
lite. My husband does not write to me in that way.
Are we slaves? Nature does not tell us so." The sight
of all these errors did not lead Voltaire to deny the
necessity of religion; though to the question what he
would put in place of Christianity, he answers: " What!
A ferocious animal has sucked the blood of my neigh-
bors; I tell you to get rid of it; and you ask me what
is to be put in its place?" His own faith in God was
proof against not only the sins of his worshipers, but
the defects of his works, though the Lisbon earthquake
made it necessary to suppose that there are limits to his
THE OPEN COURT.
power. Voltaire was undoubtedly sincere in building
the first church ever dedicated to God; and we may
hope that there was something besides cowardice in his
occasionally taking the consecrated wafer and express-
ing, on his death-bed, his hope to die in the Catholic
religion and be pardoned by the Church. It would
have been more manly, if not more kingly, for him to
have adhered to the declaration made a few days earlier:
" I die worshiping God, loving my friends, hating none
of my enemies and detesting superstition."
He found much that deserves hatred in what was
then called religion ; and he pointed this out so plainly
that he holds a place in history among the unbelievers.
This makes it important to remember that he is one of
the great philanthropists. It would be scarcely fair
to say that he was a philanthropist, because he was an
unbeliever. Voltaire was an unbeliever, because he was
a philanthropist.
The real grandeur of his life cannot be realised with-
out careful studv of such biographers as Parton and
Morley in English, Pompery, Bungener and Desnoir-
esterres in French, or last and best of all, the German
Mahrenholtz. His irritability, vanity, duplicity and
timidity are not to be denied ; but they did not make
him less of a king than Louis XV., who sinned much
more deeply against the seventh commandment. All
Voltaire's faults are unimportant in comparison with
that broad and lofty philanthropy which he practised
constantly, even toward those who wronged him, and
which he often expressed thus: " The noblest privilege
of humanity is the power of doing good." " I know of
no really great men, except those who rendered great
services to our race." " I am ashamed of having peace
and plentv in my own house, when three-fourths of
Europe suffers." " My health grows weaker day by
day; and' I must hasten to do good." "The more we
think, the less unhappy men will be; you will see
golden days; you will make them; this idea brightens
the last of mine."
MONISM IN MODERN PHILOSOPHY AND THE
AGNOSTIC ATTITUDE OF MIND.
BY EDMUND MONTGOMERY.
Part I.
Descartes opened what is generally called modern
philosophy by pointing out, as immediately evident, only
our own individual thinking. He then professed to dis-
cover, as innate part-content of such thinking, the cer-
tainty of the existence of a supreme being. And, as
deception is altogether incompatible with divine perfec-
tion and holiness, he thought, moreover, that our unhesi-
tating belief in the existence of an extended, outer uni-
verse^must necessarily be grounded on its actual reality.
With the help of these three existential statements,
Descartes set about explaining the phenomena of the
two worlds — the world of thought and the world of
extension. But, in order to operate on a sufficiently
solid basis, he let unwittingly slip in two more supposi-
tions. He assumed in support of our thinking a per-
manent unitary substratum, calling it thinking substance.
And dealing similarly with extension, which he believed
to be the fundamental characteristic of the outer world,
he assumed an extended substance.
These sundry distinctions form the leading princi-
ples or elements of his system. And it is an historical
fact that most problems which have occupied modern
philosophy have grown out of the attempt to unify the
various existential presuppositions thus prominently
brought to notice by Descartes. For genuine thinkers
cannot rest satisfied until they believe they have discov-
ered the veritable bond of union that holds together the
divers facts of the universe. The multifarious phenom-
ena of our varied world, how they come to form the
one closely connected whole which we mentally realize,
this precisely is the quest that from time immemorial
has been the ruling passion of the philosophical mind.
The most stubborn of all difficulties in the way of
unification arose at once from the impossibility of con-
ceiving ho*v the two substances of our known world —
being evidently, as a matter of fact, in closest intercom-
munication— at all manage thus to influence each other.
It is obviously quite incomprehensible how a material
substance, with its space-occupying motions, can in any
way affect or be affected by a spaceless mental entity-
possessing no parts to be moved and having no sort of
community of nature.
This psychophvsical riddle has ever since formed
the central problem of philosophy and the most essential
impediment to any kind of monistic view. In spite of
all efforts at solution, it remains to this very day utterly
unintelligible how the mere moving to and fro of brain-
molecules can at all induce or cause the conscious state,
with which we actually find it connected, or how our
spaceless and, therefore, immovable volition is capable of
imparting motion to our bodily members.
The Cartesians, in order to account for so utterly
enigmatical an occurrence as the intercommunication of
body and mind, felt compelled to assume what they
called a concursus divinus, each time body acted on
mind or mind on body. And with this introduction of
miraculous intervention they here, at the start, relin-
quished for good the philosophical ambition of construct-
ing a monistic world-conception.
The monistic task was, however, soon undertaken
from another point of view. Descartes himself had
expressed the idea, without working it out, that the two
substances may possibly exist united in the divine being.
Spinoza, through monotheistic and cabalistic associa-
tions probably already predisposed to Monism, devoted
IO
THE OPEN COURT.
the best part of his beautifully contemplative life to the
philosophical unification of the divers and disconnected
principles of the Cartesian system. This he conceptu-
ally effected 1>\ imagining the supreme being to be itself
an absolute, all-containing substance, of which thinking
and extension are but two of an infinite number of other,
to us, unknown attributes. The different bodilv things
he looked upon as so mam divers modes of the infinite
attribute of extension and the different souls or minds as
so many special modes of the divinely-rooted attribute
of thinking. And, harmonizing both spheres, he
assumed, in eternal accordance, the order and connec-
tion of thought to be ever the same as the order and con-
nection of things. The divine substance, with its attri-
butes, is thus the natnra naturans, the all-enfolding
matrix and manifesting ground of the individual souls
and extended things which constitute the natura nat-
i/rata or that which assumes conscious and particular
being through partial revelation of the all-comprehend-
ing and undivided potentiality of God.
This kind of Monism, based on our conception of
substantiality, to which Spinoza gave most perfect and
classical expression, a Monism identifying God and
nature — Dcn.i sive iiatiira — has always irresistibly fas-
cinated main- of the greatest minds. And when we
remember the pantheistic turn all religions are ap! to
take; when we consider, furthermore, what a central
influence, through the Eleatic sages, the same monistic
conception gained on the philosophical thought of
antiquity; what vivifying inspiration during all the rigid
lengths of the middle ages it has afforded to the religious
contemplation of Christian mystics; how, in the rise of
modern free thought, it nerved to sublime martyrdom
the dauntless mind that first on our earth conceived the
infinity of worldcd space with one mighty pulse of
quickening power throbbing through it all; what source
of liberating enthusiasm and rapturous delight Spino-
zismus, with its Got/ trunkenheit, then came to be to
such men as Lessing, Goethe, Novalis, Schelling. and
through them, to the whole civilized world; what honor
has been done in our own days to thai once so execrated
name by representative thinkers of all nations and
denominations; when we consider all this, we may rest
assured that the Monism of Substantiality will not soon
lose its magic spell over the brooding mind of man.
Vet, nevertheless, it is clear that within, as well as
without, the divine substance the phenomena of thought
anil those of extension remain to our understanding
totally unrelated to each other, so far, at least, as their
actual intercommunication is concerned. This philo-
sophical inclusion within one and the same absolute
renders in no wise intelligible bow the experienced
interaction or correspondence is brought about. Indeed,
Spiuozistie Monism really rests on the erroneous iden-
tification of logical reason in (he sphere of though!
with actual cause in the sphere of reality. Its princi-
ple of explanation is ratio, not causa. A logical reason,
however, though definite concepts may consistently
follow from it, is utterly impotent to produce any effect-
ive display whatever among the actual things of the
extended universe. And this alone is sufficient reason
why Spiuozistie Monism cannot be a correct interpreta-
tion of our world.
To the orthodox world Spinoz.a's naturalistic panthe-
ism seemed simply an impudent and offensive display of
atheism. Vet, for all that, among the faithful them-
selves, the same monistic propensity labored through
Father Malebranche's meditation to bring comprehen-
sive unity into Descartes' distracting trilogy of God,
Thought and Extension.
Had not Descartes when, while doubting every-
thing, he began to cast about for immediately evident
reality and truth, actually found the idea of an all-perfect
God as the most certain of the contents of thought?
And was it not this certainty of the existence of such a
most real being that alone rendered sure the reality also
of the extended world ? It is quite clear that our percep-
tion of things is no effect or result of our own doing.
It is clear, also, that extended things cannot of them-
selves affect in any way our thought; consequently, it is
only through God that we perceive them. We have
obviously no perception of things save in the world of
thought. These things in the world of thought come
to us through God. Therefore, we see all things in God
and, " with St. Paul let us then believe *' — so exclaims
Malebranche — " that in him we live, and move, and
have our being."
The reverend Father, entangled in these monistic
thoughts, innocently believed he had saved his ortho-
doxy- which prescribes a personal creator separate from
created things — by simply declaring that these things,
besides being seen by us in God, have also an existence
of their own external to God.
Main of our theologians, at present, partly or wholly
imbued with the Monism of transcendental idealism or
with that of substantiality, are laboring with all their
might to reconcile the two utterly incompatible concep-
tions, the conception of personality, namely, with that
of immanency. Persons, indiscerptible, ever identical
monadic existencies, can neither include as part of
themselves other persons or things; nor can they be
included as integrant part by any kind of other sub-
stance or being. It is of the essence of personality
to be rigorously autonomous. Leibnitz rightly said
monads have no windows and he made them, conse-
quently, evolve all their conscious states from within,
every monad in utter isolation, only for itself. This
compelled him to have recourse to miraculous interven-
tion, in order to make the countless hosts of monads
compose in spite of their separateness -out' one,
THE OPEN COURT.
1 1
all-involving cosmos of interacting existents. Leibnitz
who, with his keenly logical mind, had long dwelt on
the subject, knew right well that the conception of an
autonomous, spiritual entity excludes the possibilty of
its acting on other existents or its being acted upon by
them. It is a fanciful illusion to indulge, as many do,
in the notion that such a spiritual entity, by getting
somehow a body, may become competent to act by
means of it on other spiritual entities. The construc-
tion of such a body and the action upon it are precisely
the riddles we desire, above all, to have solved. Monism
is altogether incompatible with a world consisting of
monads and it is time that this should be distinctly
understood. Whoever adopts Monism of any kind has
to drop indiscerptible personality for good. And who-
ever believes in spiritual personality, divine or human,
can never consistently become a monist. Spiritual
persons of an anthropomorphic constitution are, in truth,
what Professor Haeckel so characteristically calls them,
"gaseous vertebrates," a type of being so well known
among us that our many spiritualistic fellow citizens find
no difficulty whatever of visibly realizing any desired
number of specimens.
Kant, like Descartes, formed a starting point and
nucleus for various monistic speculations. For, though
he had centralized the faculties of the understanding in
the synthetical unity of apperception, an all-combining
power emanating from the intelligible world, and con-
stituting our intelligible Ego, he left within our mental
constitution unconnected the different categories and the
two forms of sense-presentation. He left also com-
pletely in the dark the way in which the things-in-
themselves affect through our senses our general sensibil-
ity, though such affection was the only evidence he had
of the existence of such things-in-themselves. Lastly,
besides our world of experience within time and space,
and besides the world of things-in-themselves inferred
from sense-affection, he assumed also an intelligible
world, the veritable home of the supreme intelligence and
of our own innermost being. The nearest approach he
himself ever made toward Monism consisted in the sug-
gestion, that possibly the reality peripherically affecting
our sensibility may be the same reality which centrally
constitutes the intelligible world.
On the uncertainty of things-in-themselves, Fichte
soon-constructed his Monism of the almighty Ego. As
we cannot possibly know from experience through what
kind of influence our perceptions arise, why may thev
not altogether originate through some intrinsic activity?
Had not Kant shown that such an intrinsic activity,
endowed with free causation, constitutes the moral
kernel of our being. And, indeed, our productive
imagination is quite equal to bring forth the world. Is
not the world, representing spectacle displaying itself
in dreams, undeniably the exclusive creation of that
intrinsic faculty? It stands to reason, then, that it is the
originating act of the Ego itself that creates the world
we know — the world which is thus, in fact, only the
expression of the vivifying self-movement of produc-
tive thought. This view, not quite absolute yet, may
lie called the Monism of subjective idealism or of self-
acting thought.
In the course of time moral considerations, which
were really grandly predominant in Fichte, induced
him theoretiallv to admit the existence of fellow crea-
tures, that is, the existence of ever so many cither
world-creating Fgos. And to explain how the produc-
tive imaginations of the sundry Egos are actually real-
izing, not each a different world, but only a different
aspect of one and the same world; to solve this very
ancient riddle, he simply assumed a unitary power present
in them all and directing their thought in harmony with
an all-comprehensive plan.
Such an amplification reduces, however, the monistic
system virtually to a monadology, which we have seen
can never become monistic.
THE TWO HEMISPHERES.
IIV 11. VV. 11 W.I..
In the present cosmopolitan condition of the civilized
world the two hemispheres are such close neighbors that
thev are daily and hourly interchanging gossip. Henry
Ward Beecher in his latest lecture dwells complacently
on the contrast between Europe and this great continent
of America in the fact that while Europe presents the
aspect of a regular field of Mais and bristles with the
bayonets of standing armies, this continental country is
held in subjection by i 5,000 soldiers all told. While
this is a gratifying fact to us dwellers of the New
World, we know very well that if this continent of
North America was as populous as Europe and was
occupied by a number of great nationalities speaking
different languages and actuated by immemorial rivalries
and hostile tendencies and traditions, to say nothing of
differences of race and creed, it would, like Europe,
doubtless present the spectacle of vast standing armies
ready at a moment's warning to become belligerents.
For why should not like causes and conditions produce
like effects here as elsewhere? But fortunately for the
peace of this hemisphere we are the only great nation-
ality in it. We are America in fact and when the word
America is used it is understood to mean the United
.States, which are a new-world community in their entire
social and political organization. Our neighbors are not
at all formidable in a military sense and all of them com-
bined would be no match for us. Thus we are not under
the necessity of living in an armed state.
We are wholly outside of the European group of
nations, not more isolated from them physically by an
intervening ocean than we arc socially and politically by
12
THE OPEN COURT.
our unprecedented institutions. Our relations with Euro-
pean states are almost wholly commercial, so that consuls
are alone needed to take care of our foreign interests. It is
true that there are American ministers resident at the
various European courts, but they are rather gentlemen
of leisure, seeing Europe at the expense of the federal
treasury, than actual diplomatists. Such appointments
are rather the rewards of political partisanship than
serious ones meaning business. This great continent 01
America is even now largely a wilderness, wild nature
being in the ascendant over most of its surface still. It
probably does not contain a population of a hundred
millions all told, while Europe territorially its inferior,
contains certainly three or four hundred millions, more
or less, of men of different races, languages and relig-
ions, ranging all the way from Englishmen and French-
men, in the northwest, to Slavs, Turks and Greeks, in the -
southeast. Man here is not yet a weed, as he is in
crowded Europe. We are thus, by reason of our isola-
tion and favorable environment and the continental
roominess which our fifty or sixty millions of popula-
tion enjoy, a pacific community attending to business
and party politics principally. But if there were rival
social systems here and race hostilities and if the
old and the new stood face to face here as they do in
Europe, we should probably exhibit a European bellig-
erency and preparation for conflict. Our late civil war
showed that we can throw ourselves into war as furiously
as we do into business pursuits and money-making.
Only a war here means necessarily a civil war, because
we must fight each other when we fight for want of
outside foemen worthy of our steel. Of course our
little standing army is a mere frontier police. It does
not hold anybody in subjection at all, except possibly a
few Indians. An English writer who has recently been
making the tour of this great continental country, says,
in his account of it, partly in joke and partly in earnest,
that "in a few generations the whole earth will be one
big, dead-level America, as like as two peas from end to
end, and dressed in the same stereotyped black coat and
round felt hat, enjoying a single, uniform civilization."
Doubtless the cosmopolitan civilization of to-day tends
to uniformity social and political and to a uniformity of
dress, language, ideas and modes. But the uniformity
of European and American civilization never will take
the form of a dull, unvarying Chinese stationariness
presenting just the same unchanging aspect from cen-
tury to century. It will be a uniformity of movement
and progress attaining to ever new plans of elevation
and amelioration. Our institutions being most in accord
with reason and common sense are likely to become
universal. Dc Tocqueville, over half a century ago,
came hither to study the workings of popular govern-
ment, because he saw that the Old World was moving
in a democratic direction.
Europe, though the smallest of the continents, yet,
by reason of the vastness of its sea-coast and its inter-
penetration by midland seas, is in all respects the most
powerful. In fact, it has been and is the focus and
radiating center of civilization. But its nationalities
present this anomaly, that while their upper classes
and intellectual circles are the very high water-mark of
humanity, its lower orders or masses are left in a state
of semi-barbarism, as we know in our large cities to our
cost. For the stream of proletarian immigration from
abroad begins to be a menace to popular government in
our great centers of population. As I have said, Europe
being the continent that dominates all the rest, until the
European nations disarm, war will continue to be more
or less the normal state of mankind, as Hobbes insisted
that it was.
We are told that it is a period of the reign of force
in Europe emphatically at the present time. Each of
the great European powers is armed cap-a-pie, because
the rest are. Germany, the foremost of the European
group of nations since 1S70, owes her leadership to the
fact that she has been and is disciplined for war as no
other nation is. In fact, the traditions of Prussia, the
central state of the German Empire, are all martial.
She was created by the sword of her great warrior-
king, Frederick, who fought nearly all the continental
nations for years single-handed to make his country the
nation that she is. Germany is compelled by her posi-
tion, political and geographical, both, flanked as she is
on the one hand by France and on the other by Russia,
to be armed to the teeth. Semi-barbaric Russia, with
her vast population wielded by a single despot, whose
whim is law, and with her traditional gravitation toward
Constantinople, is a constant menace to all the states of
western Europe. Since her humiliation in 1S70, France
has put herself in such a state of military preparedness
as she was never in before, even in the palmy days of
Napoleon I. She is impregnably fortified on her north-
eastern frontier, where she suffered such ignominious
defeat, so that a German army can only invade her a
second time by way of Belgium. Her military force is
counted by millions. Of the three military empires of
Europe, Austria is the weakest and it is said that with-
out the backing of Germany she would be no match for
Russia, in case of a war with that power. But Bismarck
is anxious to keep the peace with Russia, as long as there
is a probability of another conflict with France. As
for Great Britain, she does not pretend to be a land-
power in the sense in which Germany, Russia and
France are. Furthermore, she is not merely a European
power but a sort of cosmopolitan empire, extending
round the whole globe. She is never in readiness for
war at short notice, as the great continental powers are,
because " the silver streak " makes invasion of her diffi-
cult. But her vast wealth and unlimited mechanical
THE OPEN COURT.
J3
means of arming herself by sea and land are such as to
make her an invincible adversary in the long run, when
she is fairly in for a serious struggle. As for Italy, since
her unification and the reduction of the Pope to the
civil level of an ordinary subject, she must be classed with
the great European powers. As for Spain, Denmark
and Sweden, they are of as little military account as
Belgium. Thus is the continent of Europe, near the
close of this nineteenth century, an armed camp through-
out or, in the language of Plutarch, " an orchestra of
Mars," its chief nationalities relying solely upon a dis-
play of force to maintain their rank and prestige. When
we take into account the current enginery and terrible
instruments of destruction and havoc which are employed
in the battles of the present day, the historic periods
most noted for violence and bloodshed in the matter of
warlike capability sink into insignificance when com-
pared with the present.
Europe has everywhere a redundant population strait-
ened for room and for means of subsistence. In view
of this fact, it would seem that it would be wiser, as it
certainly would be more humane, to expend the enor-
mous sums which are necessary to support her standing
armies in transporting her superfluous myriads to wil-
derness regions of the earth, to the fertile solitudes of
the dark continent, for such a disposition of them would
increase the area of civilization and a civilized occu-
pancy. Of course, military discipline is not without its
advantages. It is a promoter of manliness and of the
spirit of order and subordination without which society
would be disintegrated, as it is likely to be here if things
go on as they are going now. Prussia, the foremost
nation of Europe in the intelligence and high average
of its population, has been under a strict military dis-
cipline from the days of the father of Frederick the
Great down to the regime of Bismarck and Von
Moltke.
A nation may be demoralized and debased by an
excessive devotion to the sordid pursuits of peace, such
as gambling in stocks, political log-rolling and a too
eager chase after lucre. Thus far no nation has been
recognized as great and formidable which has not been
first-class in the matter of force, whether for purposes
of aggression or defense. The lion and the eagle have
been thus far the favorite emblems of national power
and greatness. It was not the philosophy of Kant, or
the poetry of Goethe and Scheller, or the science of
Humboldt, which gave to Germany the leadership of the
European group of nations and brought her suddenly to
the front in continental politics, but the invincible
legions and victories of Kaiser Wilhelm, Bismarck and
Von Moltke won against Austria and France at Sadowa
and Sedan. These exhibitions of martial power changed
the opinion of the nations of both hemispheres at once
in regard to Germany, whose people had been previously
regarded as impracticable dreamers. Now the German
language has everywhere superseded the French as a
necessary study by those who would obtain a liberal
education.
It was Germany's display of overwhelming military
power which called the world's attention to the fact of
her intellectual supremacy. Generally the strongest
nations are the foremost in every respect. When Greece
could boast of an Alexander the Great, the conqueror
of Asia, she could at the same time show one equally
great in the intellectual order, viz.: his tutor, Aristotle.
The nations of Europe have not only been able to
conquer, colonize and hold in subjection the outside
world, with its barbaric continents and isles, but they have
also produced the noblest poetry and reflective thought,
while science and civilization, in its highest sense, are
European. We are an outpost and projection of Europe
toward the sunset, but greatly modified in figure and
feature and intonation and inflection of voice by nearly
three centuries of new-world inhabitancy. Thus have
the most virile and martial of races and nations been
also the most intellectual.
ETHNOLOGICAL STUDIES.
BY THEODORE STAXTON.
One of most interesting books in the department of
sociology that has recently appeared here is M. Elie
Reclus's Les Primitifs. The author belongs to that
distinguished French family, all of whose members
seem to be devoted to some literary or scientific work.
The best known of the Recluses is Elisee, the famous
geographer and ardent socialist. Elie, whom I have
just mentioned, is the elder brother of Elisee and, if
he does not enjoy such a wide-spread reputation, is a
man of no ordinary parts. Another brother, Onesime,
has published books of travel, while a fourth, Armand,
an engineer by profession, has associated his name with
the Panama canal, about which enterprise he has printed
several reports and pamphlets. A fifth brother, Paul,
is one of the ablest Paris surgeons. The three sisters of
these remarkable brothers have published translations,
novels and scientific studies. A cousin, Mme. Pauline
Kergomard, nee Reclus, is an authority in France on the
education of children and has written largely on
pedagogic subjects. I do not know whether I have
exhausted the list of the notable members of this famous
family, but I have said enough to show you that it is
worthy of Galton's attention. But, perhaps, the most
interesting fact for us, at least in connection with the
Recluses, is that all of them — I think there is no
exception — are outspoken free-thinkers.
A friend gives me the following account of M.
Elie Reclus's last volume, mentioned at the beginning
of this letter: " The work," we are told, "is a study in
H
T H K O P B N COU RT.
comparative ethnology, the first in a projected series, and
is to be supplemented by another volume if this one is
favorably received. The present studies are rive in
number, and one chosen in extremes of latitude, thus
offering a diversity of customs and manners peculiarly
interesting. One is astonished to find, in regions so
remote from what we are pleased to call civilization,
features of life so strikingly indicative of the social as
well as the generic unity of the human family. The
hyperborean amid his eternal snows and ices, dominated
by a bleak monotonous nature, is as tenacious of his claim
to manhood as is the most polished metropolitan. It is
remarkable that these benighted races of the western
hemisphere, commonly called Esquimaux, or eaters of
raw flesh, invariably distinguish themselves from the
rest of humanity bv the name of aitoit, which signifies
man. M. Reclus divides them into two peoples — the
oriental and the occidental, the T adits of Greenland and
the Tadits of Alaska. While his graphic pictures of
their family and community life reveal to us a far from
civilized state of existence, yet we are bound to recog-
nize here and there striking resemblances to familiar
institutions.
"Such discoveries rather detract from our boasted
superiority and, from an evolutionary point of view, thev
are profoundly significant. Thev show us, as above
remarked, the oneness of mankind and lead us to con-
sider in a new light the complex fabric called modern
civilization. A just pride in the gigantic achievements
of the scientific world disposes us to exaggerate the
merits of a society whose every institution, after all,
is but a medieval heritage. Such books as M. Reclus's
are calculated to awaken healthful reflections on this
point and to call attention to imperfections nearer home.
•' But the crude, discordant side of primitive life is
not all that is given in these studies. A chapter on the
Nai'rs, or warrior nobility, on the coast of Malabar,
reads like a romance. It is a people dominated by the
feminine principle. Hereditary descent is on the side of
the mother, the priestess of the household, whose
prime minister is the eldest daughter, and in whose
presence her sons never sit without invitation. Of
this marvelous race, called prehistoric, but a frag-
ment remains. They are hedged about by a new
and unsympathetic civilization with which they refuse
to mingle, preserving with singular tenacity their antique
customs and a proud individuality that is the admiration
of all who come in contact with them. A traveler, at
tiie beginning of the seventeenth century, describes
them as a splendid people. ' The Nai'rs of the antique
type,' he says, ■ unite the martial boldness of the Spar-
tan with the grace and gallantry of the middle age
- hevalier. livery Nai'r is a lord in his country, living
upon his revenues or on a pension conferred by the
king. They are the best formed, the most gracefully-
proportioned and the handsomest people that I have ever
seen and they make the finest soldiers in the world.' But
thev fight only with their equals. A Nai'r would con-
sider himself utterly disgraced should he cross arms
with an inferior race. The women also are spoken of
as nobly proportioned and beautiful in face. They wear
but little clothing and prefer, as has been shown, to
leave their native shores rather than submit to be cos-
tumed according to the requirements of a ' more refined
civilization.'
"It is very interesting as well as instructive to follow
M. Reclus through all the complexities of his many-
sided studies. It may fairly be said that 'truth is
stranger than fiction.' Few brains would be able to
weave an imaginary picture that could rival these real
ones. And when we consider how intimately all these
distinct phases of society, however obscure, are linked
in with the philosophy of the great whole, we cannot
too highly appreciate the author's effort to introduce
these remote peoples to modern progressive thought as
subjects of serious stud v. In this work wc see the
infantile beginnings, the gropings of blind instinct of
races without industry, art or science, the victims of
helpless ignorance. We also see the strange, grotesque
perversions of human nature under such abnormal cir-
cumstances.
"Thoroughly versed in the historical and socio-
logical sciences, M. Reclus has gone into this work with
a view not only to amuse the curiosity of his readers,
but to aid in laving the foundation of exactness in those
sciences which are of primary importance to humanity
at the present day, as thev are the condition of con-
structive social progress. We hope soon to see the
second of the series, which will certainly be greeted
with interest."
Paris, December.
APHORISMS FROM THE STUDY.
BY XENOS CLARK.
The most exasperating thing about a foolish man
is that he never perceives his own folly.
By a man's opinion of death you may learn what he
has done in life.
The chief objection to puns is the company thev
commonly keep.
The same knowledge that teaches us to criticise
compels us to forgive.
Poetry is the sunrise of the mind.
The love of life in those whose life is lovely is so
strong that it even can lead them to think the dread of
life in those whose life is dreadful a needless illusion.
The difficulty of attaining good ends measures their
stability when achieved.
THF, OPEN COURT.
The Open Court.
A Fortnightly Journal.
Published every other Thursday at 169 to 175 La Salle Street | Nixon
Building), corner Monroe Street, by
THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY.
B. V. UN DEI? WOOD,
Editor and Max.vgkk.
SARA A. UNDERWOOD,
Associate Editor.
The leading object of The Open Court is to continue
the work of The Index, that is, to establish religion on the
basis of Science and in connection therewith it will present the
Monistic philosophy. The founder of this journal believes this
will furnish to others what it has to him, a religion which
embraces all that is true and good in the religion that was taught
in childhood to them and him.
Editorially, Monism and Agnosticism, so variously defined,
will be treated not as antagonistic systems, but as positive and
negative aspects of the one and only rational scientific philosophy,
which, the editors hold, includes elements of truth common to
all religions, without implying either the validity of theological
assumption, or any limitations of possible knowledge, except such
as the conditions of human thought impose.
The Open Court, while advocating morals and rational
religious thought on the firm basis of Science, will aim to substi-
tute for unquestioning credulity intelligent inquiry, for blind faith
rational religious views, for unreasoning bigotry a liberal spirit,
for sectarianism a broad and generdus humanitarianism. With
this end in view, this journal will submit all opinion to the crucial
test of reason, encouraging the independent discussion by able
thinkers of the great moral, religious, social and philosophical
problems which are engaging the attention of thoughtful minds
and upon the solution of which depend largely the highest inter-
ests of mankind.
While Contributors are expected to express freely their own
views, the Editors are responsible only for editorial matter.
Terms of subscription three dollars per year in advance,
postpaid to any part of the United States, and three dollars and
fifty cents to foreign countries comprised in the postal union.
All communications intended for and all business letters
relating to The Open Court should be addressed to 13. F.
Underwood, P. O. Drawer F, Chicago, Illinois, to whom should
be made payable checks, postal orders and express orders.
THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 17, 1887.
SALUTATORY.
A country like this, vast in extent, with resources
undeveloped and with such a sparse population to the
square mile, is not a country of a leisurely class of men
devoted to purely intellectual pursuits, to the dissemina-
tion of ideas and the advancement of truth for its own
sake. But absorbed as the people of this new country
necessarily are in material, industrial interests, yet there
are many who, in the intervals of business and exacting
bread-and-butter pursuits, desire to keep themselves in-
formed in regard to the best thought of the day. They
know, in spite of the fact that professors and teachers of
the old theologies still keep droning formulas and
creeds which have ceased to live in the faith of reason,
as though nothing had occurred to discredit them, that
a radical change has come over the spirit of the world's
dream; and although a people as prosperous as the
American people must be more or less conservative in
both religion and politics, whatever the established order
of things, temporal or spiritual, there is an increasing
number who are hungry for ideas, for new truth, for the
advanced thought of the time, who have ceased to be-
lieve in the traditions of the past, however hoary with
years and authoritative they may be; who know that all
the truths which enlighten mankind and advance civili-
zation, are the acquisitions of experience and the revela-
tions of reason, and that the canon of truth is by no
means closed, but still open for ever new additions and
amendments as the years roll away and the mind pene-
trates ever deeper the mystery of things.
Thus, while political and commercial journals with
their news from all lands and their comments on current
events reflecting the popular mind, and that portion of
the press devoted to the old orthodoxies by whatever
name they are called, are certain of a most liberal sup-
port, there is room, we trust, for a journal like The Open-
Court, which, recognizing an element of truth in all re-
ligious systems, will aim to distinguish between this and
the errors with which the truth is encrusted and to give
to rational religious thought a firm basis in science.
The Open Court will encourage freedom of thought
untrammeled by the authority of any alleged book-
revelations or traditional beliefs, afford an opportunity
in its columns for the independent discussion, by able
thinkers, of all those great ethical, religious, social and
philosophical problems the solution of which is now de-
manded by the practical needs of the hour with an
urgency hitherto unknown, treat all such questions
according to the scientific method and in the light of the
fullest knowledge and the best thought of the da}-, advo-
cate the complete secularization of the State, entire free-
dom in religion and exact justice for all, help substi-
tute catholicity for bigotry, rational religious thought for
theological dogmatism and humanitarianism for secta-
rianism, and, at the same time, emphasize the supreme
importance of practical morality in all the relations of life
and of making the well-being of the individual and of
society the aim of all earnest thinking and reformatory
effort.
While the critical work which is still needed in this
transitional period will not be neglected, the most
prominence will be given to the positive, affirmative side
of radical liberal thought. Subjects of practical interest
will have preference over questions of pure speculation,
although the latter, with their fascination for many
minds, which, as Lewis says, "the unequivocal failure of
twenty centuries" has not sufficed to destroy, and the
discussion of which is not without value, will by no
means be wholly ignored.
The Open Court, while giving a fair hearing to
representatives of the various schools and phases of
thought, will be thoroughly independent editorially,
asserting its own convictions with frankness and vigor.
It will aim to be liberal in the broadest and best sense
THE OPEN COURT.
and to merit the patronage of that large class of intel-
ligent thinkers whom the creeds of the churches and the
mere authority of names can no longer satisfy.
Bound by allegiance to no particular party or relig-
ious sect, this journal will sound a note of warning on
occasion of any ecclesiastical encroachment upon Amer-
ican liberty, whether threatened by the powerful hier-
archy whose head resides in Europe, where it is the un-
disguised enemy of popular freedom and popular edu-
cation and whose assaults upon the free common school
of America is as insidious as it is persistent, or by that
restless pietism which' aims to arrest liberal thought in
its practical effect, by the revival of ecclesiastical laws
in the professed interests of morality, and which, not
satisfied with so much of the union of Church and State
as still survives in this Republic, in existing anomalous
statutes and established customs, is zealously working
for additional legislation to secure the official recog-
nition of theological dogmas by the National and State
governments.
American liberty is by no means what it ought to be,
even, so long as honest convictions anywhere within our
bounds disqualify a man as a witness, or the property of
ecclesiastical bodies is exempted from it just proportion of
taxation, or theological teaching is included among the
compulsory exercises of our public schools, or public
money is appropriated for the endowment of sectarian
institutions, or any class suffer legal disability of any
kind on account of their religious opinions. While these
evils remain, a journal devoted to equal and exact justice
for all, irrespective of religious belief, cannot be without
a mission.
The Open Court will aim to keep the banner of
truth and reason waving above the distractions, party
contentions, theological controversies and social and
political crazes of the hour; to submit all opinions to the
crucial test of reason and recall men from their aberra-
tions to sanity and the pathway of truth.
To the American people, cosmopolitan in character
and quick alike in opposition to wrong and sympathy
with right, so far as they can recognize them, we confi-
dently appeal, sure in the end of a favorable verdict from
such a tribunal on the great questions which are to be
tried in The Open Court.
Mr. Moncure D. Conway has kindly sent us for
publication in the next issue of The Open Court his
paper on " Unitarianism and its Grandchildren." This
remarkable production, by one of America's most radical
thinkers and brilliant writers, has been read before several
eastern societies, and it has made a marked impression ;
but it has never been printed, having been reserved at
our request for the columns of this new journal, whose
readers may expect in the essay a rare intellectual treat.
In an article printed in The Index, entitled " The
Incomplete," Professor W. D. Gunning, referring to the
Plateau experiment, observed that its "analogue is the
material universe," and he added that "no thoughtful
man can witness the Plateau experiment -without feel-
ing that his mind may be standing at the very threshold
of creation." The Plateau experiment has often been
applied to typify the genesis of the solar system. It
may be tried by anyone who has a delicate touch. Put
alcohol into water until the mixture will hold olive oil
in suspension. Fill a glass globe with this fluid and
pour into it olive oil. The oil will diffuse itself through
the fluid which will hold it as the heavens hold a nebula.
Take a stiff wire and bend it at one end into a crank by
which you can rotate it. Let the other end be smooth
enough to turn freely in a socket, which must rest firmly
on the bottom of the glass globe. Insert on the middle
of the wire a little disc, jagged on the rim. Place this
wire in the globe and rotate it. For delicate experiment
the rotation should be accomplished by clock-work.
* # *
Col. John C. Bundy, editor of the Religio-Philo-
sophical Journal, in a remarkably thoughtful paper on
" The Country Press in Ethics," read before the Illinois
Press Association a few days ago at its annual conven-
tion, said :
In the words of the immortal Lincoln ours is a "government
of the people, by the people, for the people." Hence the purity,
strength and permanence of our form of government and its
benign influence upon the great family of nations rests upon the
morals of the masses. And in turn the moral sense of the masses
is to a considerable and steadily increasing degree due to the
ethics taught by the country press. The cause of this increasing
influence of the press in ethics is neither remote nor obscure.
With increasing intelligence among the people, morals steadily
tend toward a non-theological basis. A scientific foundation
for ethics is rapidly becoming an imperative necessity, without
which a moral interregnum impends. A regulative system based
on theological dogmas has ceased to regulate with any great force.
Old theology is moribund and with its decay dies its regulating
power. It no longer is master of the public conscience; its
foundations, built on the superstitions and idiosyncrasies ot
visionaries and ambitious men have given way and under its
crumbling walls the influence of its moral code is fast disappear-
ing. In the place of the supernatural, people seek a code of
natural ethics. This will not be found in the average preacher's
study, but it should and will in good time be reached through the
editorial sanctum.
* # #
Prof. Ernst Haeckel states his " Monistic thought "
as follows:
Scientific materialism, which is identical with our Monism,
affirms in reality no more than that everything in the world goes
on naturally — that every effect has its cause and every cause its
effect. It therefore assigns to causal law — that is, the law of a
necessary connection between cause and effect — its place over the
entire series of phenomena that can be known. '
*********
In order, then, to avoid in future the usual confusion of this
utterly objectionable Moral Materialism with our Scientific Mate-
rialism, we think it necessary to call the latter either Monism or
THE OPEN COURT.
17
Realism. The principle of this Monism is the same as what Kant
terms "the principle of Mechanism" and of which he expressly
asserts that without it there can be no natural science at all. This prin-
ciple is quite inseparable from our Non-miraculous History of
Creation and characterizes it as opposed to the teleological belief
in the miracle of a Supernatural. — The History of Creation, vol. 1,
t-37-
Strictly, however, our "Monism" might as accurately or as
inaccurately be called Spiritualism or Materialism. The real mate-
rialistic philosophy asserts that the vital phenomena of motion, like
all other phenomena of motion, are effects or products of matter.
The other, opposite extreme spiritualistic philosophy, asserts, on
the contrary, that matter is the product of motive force and that
all material forms are produced by free forces entirely independent
of matter itself. Thus, according to the materialistic conception
of the universe, matter or substance precedes motion or active
force. According to the spiritualistic conception of the universe
on the contrary, active force or motion precedes matter. Both
views are dualistic and we hold them both to be equally false. A
contrast to both views is presented in the Monistic philosophy,
which can as little believe in force without matter as in matter
without force. — The Evolution of Alan, vol. 2, p. 456.
Monism and Dualism — Unitary philosophy or Monism, is
neither extremely materialistic nor extremeiy spiritualistic, but
resembles rather a union and combination of these opposed prin-
ciples, in that it conceives all nature as one whole and nowhere
recognizes any but mechanical causes. Binary philosophy, on the
other hand, or Dualism, regards nature and spirit, matter and
force, inorganic and organic nature, as distinct and independent
existences. — HaeckeVs Ibid, vol. 2,J>. 461.
With many the word Agnostic means simply one who
neither affirms nor denies the existence of a personal,
intelligent Deity ; one who feels that the data he pos-
sesses are insufficient to warrant affirmation or denial in
regard to the matter. To this class evidently belonged
Mr. Darwin. In one of his letters published since his
death, he wrote :
I am, indeed, asked to attach a certain amount of weight to
the judgment of the large number of intelligent men who have
implicitly believed in God, but here again I see what an insufficient
kind of proof this is. The safest conclusion seems to be that the
whole subject lies beyond the range of human understanding.
And yet a man can do his duty.
In another letter ( to John Fordyce) Mr. Darwin
wrote:
Moreover, whether man deserves to be called a Theist
depends upon the definition of the term, which is much too
large a subject for a note. * * * I think that generally (and
more and more as I grow older), but not always, that an Agnostic
would be the more correct description of my state of mind.
But of all the definitions and statements of Agnostic-
ism, those of Prof. Huxley are, perhaps, the most
important, for he brought the word into use. In 18S4
he wrote:
Some twenty years ago, or thereabouts, I invented the word
"Agnostic" to denote people who, like myself, confess themselves
to be hopelessly ignorant concerning a variety of matters, about
which metaphysicians and theologians, both orthodox and hetero-
dox, dogmatize with the utmost confidence; and it has been a
source of some amusement to me to watch the gradual acceptance
of the term and its correlate, Agnosticism. * * * Thus it will
be seen that I have a sort of patent right in "Agnostic." It is my
trade mark and I am entitled to say that I can state authentically
what was originally meant by Agnosticism. Agnosticism is the
essence of science, whether ancient or modern. It simply means
that a man shall not say he knows or believes that which he has
no scientific grounds for professing to know or believe. * * * I
have no doubt that scientific criticism will prove destructive to
the forms of supernaturalism which enter into the constitution of
existing religions. On trial of any so-called miracle, the verdict
of science is "not proven." But Agnosticism will not forget that
existence, motion and law-abiding operation in nature are more
stupendous miracles than any recounted by the mythologies and
that there may be things, not only in the heavens and earth, but
beyond the intelligible universe, which "are not dreamt of in our
philosophy." The theological "'gnosis" would have us believe
that the world is a conjurer's house ; the anti-theological " 'gnosis"
talks as if it were a "dirt-pie" made by two blind children, Law
and Force. Agnosticism simply says that we know nothing of
what may be beyond phenomena.
Count Goblet d'Alviella, in his " Contemporary
Evolution of Religious Thought," refers to "Monistic
solutions in which mind is looked upon as the property
or manifestation of matter (Materialism) ; where matter
is made the outcome of mind (Spiritualism), or, in the
third place, when mind and matter are taken to be the
opposite of one and the same mysterious reality (Monism
proper)."
Haeckel wrote in 1SS4:
I believe that my Monistic convictions agree in all essential
points with that natural philosophy which in England is repre-
sented as Agnosticism. * * * I also believe that the Monistic
natural religion will slowly and gradually, but surely and steadily,
supplant the supernatural ecclesiastical religions, at least in the
consciousness of the educated classes.
G. H. Lewes wrote as follows:
It may be noted that Metaphysics, refusing to adopt the
Methods of Science, has received the protection of Theology,
but only such protection as is accorded to a vassal, and which is
changed into hostility whenever their conclusions clash, or when-
ever argument threatens to disturb the secular slumber of dogma.
Treated as a vassal by Theology, it is treated by Science as a vis-
ionary. Is there no escape from this equivocal position.
Says Prof. Huxley in Lay Sermons : " The improver
of natural knowledge absolutely refuses to acknowledge
authority as such. For him, scepticism is the highest
of duties; blind faith the one unpardonable sin. And
it cannot be otherwise, for every great advance in nat-
ural knowledge has involved the absolute rejection of
authority, the cherishing of the keenest scepticism, the
annihilation of the spirit of blind faith; and the most
ardent votary of science holds his firmest convictions,
not because the man he most venerates holds them, not
because their verity is testified by portents and wonders,
but because his experience teaches him that, whenever
he chooses to bring these convictions in contact with
their primary source, nature, whenever he thinks fit to
test them by appealing to experiment and to observa-
tion, nature will confirm them. The man of science
has learned to believe in justification; not by faith, but
by verification."
IS
THK OPEN COURT.
THE BASIS OF ETHICS.
A PAPER tSOMEWHAT REVISED .\ND WITH A FEW ADDITION'S)
READ BEFORE THE SOCIETY FOR ETHICAL CULTURE
OF CHICAGO JANUARY 14, 1**7.*
BY EDWARD C. IIEGEI.KK.
Fellow Members of tlw Society for Ethical Culture—
Ladies and Gentlemen:
We arc associated here as a society for ethical cul-
ture, so it behooves us above all to be clear and definite
as to what is the basis of ethics or what is good and bad.
Let us now consider some examples of the use of
the word "good." What is good for a clock? If it
is protected from being broken; if it is kept well oiled;
if it is so altered that it keeps more correct time — all this
is called good for the clock, irrespective of any benefit
the owner may have from it, but looking upon it exclu-
sively as a mechanism. What is "good" in this case?
It is the preservation of the clock from destruction, sud-
den or slow; it is an increase of that specific quality
which is the special feature of the clock — that of keep-
ing time.
What is good for the sparrow? I mean the sparrow
tribe. If it has plenty to eat; if the weather is mild;
if there are no birds of prey that may kill it; if there
are no other animals that will eat the always limited
amount of food upon which it<; existence depends; if the
strength and intelligence of the sparrow tribe increase,
so as to better endure the hardships of its struggle for
life and a living; if it takes good care of its young so
that they all reach maturity — what is the good in these
cases for the sparrow tribe? It is its preservation from
destruction; its growth; the strengthening of its powers
of self-preservation; but, especially, the increase of its
intelligence. To the sparrow tribe the various circum-
stances tending to its preservation are accompanied by
sensations of pleasure; those tending to its destruction
are generally, though not always, accompanied by pain.
When we speak of what is good for the sparrow tribe,
we think of pleasures and pains only as a secondary
consideration.
What do we call good for men? In the first place
all that we found to be good for the sparrow, with the same
general conclusion : That good, for man, is his preserva-
tion or growth — bad, his destruction or decline.
What do we call good for our child ? Firstly, we
assume that whatever causes pleasure is also beneficial
to it; that whatever causes pain, is in some way hurtful
to it. We use here the words "beneficial to it." Does
that not mean again •' what preserves it and makes it
grow?" We all agree, I think, that we call good for
our child (without thinking of its pleasure or pain now
*I wish to acknowledge my indebtedness to Messrs. Ernst Trussing, W. M.
sailer, II. F. Underwood and my daughter Mary for assistance in giving my
ideas literar) form, the latter also for assistance in originally preparing the
paper.
or later) that which makes it grow bodily and mentally.
We deem good for it all that will make it equal to or
greater than ourselves.
I find it necessary to give some explanations here
which may at first appear to be outside of the scope of
this discussion.*
What I think a conception to be: If a child sees an
apple for the first time, the lens of the eye will throw
a photograph of it on the retina, which photograph, as
we now know, is fixed there for a short time, in a simi-
lar way as in a photographer's camera. From this pho-
tograph, through nerve-fibers, an analogue of the pho-
tograph is assumed to be brought to the gray matter of
the child's brain, making a record there upon living,
feeling matter; this has received the name photogram —
in this case the photogram of an apple.
We may assume that at the same time the child first
sees the apple it also tastes and smells and eats the
same. Through the tongue and connecting nerves a
record of its taste upon living, feeling matter is pro-
duced in the gray matter of the child's brain simultane-
ously with the photogram. So it is with the odor of
the apple through the nose and the nerves connecting
it with the gray matter of the brain; and so, also, living
records of the several motions and sensations in eating the
apple are simultaneously made on the child's brain. The
gray matter of the brain lies on the surface thereof and
is recognized as the seat of conceptions and ideas. It
consists of hundreds of millions of brain cells, which
again are little oblong globes of living protoplasm. The
gray matter is underlaid by the white matter, which
consists of innumerable nerve-fibers connecting the
various parts of the gray matter in all directions between
its parts and with the various organs of the body. The
cells of the gray matter bearing the photogram or sight-
record and those cells bearing the taste-record of the
apple being in a conscious or active state with increased
blood circulation at the same time, it suggests itself that
the connecting white nerve-fibers are especially stimu-
lated thereby to an increased blood circulation and
growth. If later, of the photogram and taste-gram,
the one is stimulated to consciousness by excitation
through the eye or tongue, the other is stimulated to
partial consciousness through the connecting white nerve-
fibers without external excitation.
So if the child sees the apple again at another time,
it is the living, feeling photogram of an apple resulting
from its first sight, which is stimulated thereby and
feels, or, as we sav, becomes conscious of the apple.
This photogram is the ego, for the instant; it has been
asleep until the newly-formed photogram of the apple
awakens it — that is, brings it into a state of conscious-
ness.
* I bring forward here, I believe, substantially the views of the great
French psychological investigator, Th. Ribot,
THE OPEN COURT.
19
For further explanation, let me state that instead of
one photograph and one photogram being formed by
the first sight of the apple, a very large number of sim-
ilar photograms is formed. The apple must be pre-
sumed to be moving when the child sees it; the child
changes its position when it looks at the apple. This
explains more easily, too, how the photograms produced
by the second sight "of the apple find the photograms
produced bv the first sight.
The photogram of the apple will excite the memory
or living record made bv the taste of the apple. This
will enter into partial consciousness without a new exci-
tation coming through the tongue and in a similar way
hundreds of other living records or memories will be
partially excited indirectly. This combination of living
records makes the conception of an apple.
An idea I deem to be a combination of conceptions
and, therefore, to be embodied in the form of very
complicated combinations of living, feeling organisms in
our brains.
Now, what is good for ideas, or rather for the
organisms, the forms of which are the ideas? It is
their preservation, their gaining strength, their growth,
the increase of their combinations with other idea-
organisms and the increased control over them.
The organized whole or society of our living ideas
constitutes our soul.
What has been stated as good for an idea is also
good for their organized society, the soul, to wit: Pres-
ervation and evolution of its activities and sensations,
especially their form.
Of the reality (that is the whole) we observe, matter*
is an abstraction; energy is an abstraction; life is an
abstraction; feeling is an abstraction, and form is, to us,
the most important abstraction.
The following has been given to me by our fellow
member, Mr. Alexander S. Bradley, as Herbert Spencer's
theory of the basis of ethics: "'All conduct conceived of
as good is such as must necessarily tend to happiness.
You cannot imagine any conduct conceived as good
which would tend to unhappiness. That is the ultimate
standard of right and wrong, what conduces to the
happiness of the human race in the true sense of the
word.'1 Upon my remark: '-Then the good conduct
of an individual may result in unhappiness to himself
individually?" Mr. Bradley continued: "Proximate
pleasures and pains are to lie disregarded in considera-
tion of remote results, in the same way as we take disa-
greeable medicine or have a leg amputated because we
anticipate a greater amount of happiness as the result.''
1 answered him: -'I will illustrate my idea of
what is good by an example from the animal kingdom.
A favorite dog of mine attacked a hen with a brood of
chickens. The hen, although bv far the weaker animal,
* I have this from my venerable friend. Profess..]- K.. Th. Bayrhoffer
re-attacked the assailant and pursued it, risking even
death or long misery from wounds as a consequence of
her action, and bravely drove oil" the enemy. This act
of the hen to protect her young, regardless of her own
safety, we all, 1 think, call good."
Mr. Bradley replied: "I think your example dors
not conflict with the \ icw of Spencer. The happiness
that all beings feel in the love to their offspring has
become a permanent quality of animal nature by inher-
itance ami development. Acts conducive to the happi-
ness of the offspring are acts conducive to the happiness
of the parent. These acts are undertaken instinctively,
impulsively, without thought of consequences, but they
are more or less the acts tending to the happiness of indi-
viduals. The fear of proximate pain from the dog was
overmastered by the impulse for acts conducive to the
happiness of the hen tribe."
I said: " I think it is only the impulse of self-preser-
vation— the hen viewing the young as part of herself."
Mr. Bradley: "Yes, but that instinct arose in the
race from the experience of individual members that
such acts produced a larger surplus of happiness than
acts detrimental to self and offspring." (Here ends the
dialogue.)
My opinion is that the self-sacrificing moral sense of
the human mother for the protection of her child, as
that of the hen for the protection of her chickens, is
evolved by what Darwin calls "the survival of the
fittest."
At first, in the hen tribe, an attack of a dog on the
chickens would cause pain to the hen, and as a simple
reflex action she woidd bite back, the same as she
would if personally attacked. The idea of attachment
to the chickens (which is a living organism in the
brain) and simultaneous therewith that of her fighting
talent (also such an organism) began to form, or if they
already existed separately they combined. Their com-
bination (in the white nerve-fibers) began to get stronger
and a moral sense was formed, perhaps with certain
members of the hen tribe in a higher degree than with
others. As the hen tribe grew numerically stronger and
the attacks of dogs were often repeated, such hens and
their offspring survived in whom the above-mentioned
organisms of ideas and their combination were most
evolved. This process continued. In each hen the above-
mentioned organisms of love and fighting talent and their
combination was stimulated to growth bv their use, so
that they generally became stronger than the living organ-
isms of the idea of fear. Moral sense became prominent
in the society of idea-organisms. It preserved the tribe;
and because of its power of preservation we call it
" good."
Mr. Bradley has quoted Mr. Spencer as saying:
"You cannot imagine any conduct conceived as good
which would tend to unhappiness." My idea ut' this |
20
THE OPEN COURT.
will convey in an example. I think a physician may
frequently be in the position of treating a critical patient
so, that he will suffer pain up to his death for the pur-
pose of attempting to save his life. Such life thereafter
probably has an equal measure of happiness and unhap-
piness, so that the idea in saving it must be that ordinary
human life itself is a great boon.
In revising this paper I introduce from Herbert
Spencer's Data of Ethics the following:
" Among the best examples of absolutely right
actions to be named, are those arising where the nature
and the requirements have been molded to one another
before social Evolution began. Consider the relation of
a healthy mother to a healthy infant. Between the
two there exists a mutual dependence which is a source
of pleasure to both. In yielding its natural food to the
child, the mother receives gratification, and to the child
there comes the satisfaction of appetite — a satisfaction
which accompanies furtherance of life, growth, and
increasing enjoyment. Let the relation be suspended,
and on both sides there is suffering. The mother
experiences both bodily pain and mental pain; and the
painful sensation borne by the child, brings as its results
physical mischief and some damage to the emotional
nature. Thus the act is one that is to both exclusively
pleasurable, while abstention entails pain on both;
and it is consequently of the kind we here call abso-
lutely right."
Is not here the preservation of the human race,
depending on such act, fundamental to the pleasure
sensation?
In the education of children by their parents, which
will be generally recognized as a moral proceeding, the
society of ideas of the parents in respect to the later life
of the child (which ideas are living organisms in their
brains), are by their activity stimulated to growth, which
growth is accompanied by pleasure sensations to them.
Experience of the parents in education will result in
the formation of additional ideas, which will intimately
unite with the society of ideas already in their brains.
This also will bring with it, growth to the idea-organisms.
The sensations of pleasure, of these idea-organisms
are the pleasure in education; and as education is "good,"
are the pleasure in the "good." The action of this
society of ideas ensures the preservation and the mental
and physical advance of the family.
As by experience growing life is accompanied by
pleasure sensations, that of civilized man (in his last
evolved part, his brain) more so than that of the sav-
age, and still more so than that of the animal; the
thought of the further evolution of its form and its long
continuance causes pleasure in us, that is, awakens in
our brain the memories of pleasures actually experi-
enced.
When deeming it the greatest good we can do for
ourselves to work for immortality, which work is a
pleasure in itself, we think of the pleasures (the rewards)
it will bring us in the future, only as as a second thought.
If we think of such pleasures however, we may think
of them as further evolved from those we feel.
A verse of a hymn (sung to a beautiful melody) to me
and two comrades, about the age'of fifteen, and which
has been strongly refreshed in my memory, while study-
ing this thought, describes them best. The verse is:
Was noch kein Ange sah,
Was noch kein Ohr vernahm,
Was je hienieden
Kein Menschenherz empfand:
Das hat Gott denen
Mit Iluld beschieden,
Die bis ans Ende
Getren ihn lieben.
This course of thought has led us to the conviction
that we cannot reach the basis of ethics without taking
immortality into consideration. Examining Mr. Spen-
cer's standpoint, that there must be a surplus of pleasure
over pain to make life desirable, in the view, that ordin-
ary healthy growing life is a pleasure in itself, we are
also led to the thought, that the long lasting continuance
of the most evolved form of human life, that is, immor-
tality, is the important question in determining what is
good for man.
If good be happiness only, then the higher degree,
the more evolved form of happiness, is a greater good.
But as all happiness has the factor of time as an essen-
tial element, its duration must be considered in determin-
ing its value. This consideration alone brings us to
immortality, so that, whether we adhere to the happi-
ness theory, or to the existence theory (meaning preser-
vation and growth), if we will do good, do our duty,
we must endeavor to learn about immortality all we
possibly can. If some people are indifferent about
this idea as far as they are personally concerned, they
still should be concerned about it for the sake of their
children and other relatives and friends, yes, and their
people.
We owe this equally to our ancestors, going back to
the first we can trace — those who lived millions of years
before us. If we are here to-day, we owe it to our
ancestors' long and successful work and struggle — to the
always repeated self-sacrifice of mothers for their
offspring. We owe it to them especially, to do our
utmost, to preserve the greatest result of their work and
struggle and suffering, the greatest result of evolution,
namely, the human sou!, and to help its further growth.
Think of the relation of a man to his own chil-
dren, lie can so educate them and provide for them
that they may have as large a surplus of happiness in
life as possible. This surplus may be reached at the
expense of the duration of existence of his children or
their offspring.
THE OPEN COURT.
21
If I imagine a given territory occupied by two socie-
ties of equal strength in daily intercourse and inter-
mingled with each other — one society believing that the
surplus of happiness in life is the good, and the other
that existence is the fundamental good — I feel certain
that m the competition for existence, which is unavoida-
ble, the former will gradually disappear from the scene,
anil the latter will eventually occupy the whole territory
alone.
So I deem it of the greatest importance that we
have as the leading member of the society of ideas,
which is our soul, — as our conscience or leading inner
voice (what it really is), this:
Preserve and evolve the human form of life, above
all the human soul, regardless of pleasure or pain.
I think we all admit that so far the basis of ethics or
the good has been a vague generalization of all generally
accepted special cases of good. This offers an analogy to
the " composite photograph " that Mr. Galton pro-
duces from many photographs, assumed to have some-
thing in common.
What we now call good, besides preservation, is that
which we observe in nature and call evolution. To
make a further definition, it is that process in nature, by
which on our globe, from simple organisms, the plant,
the animal, the savage man, the civilized man have been
gradually developed, which process is now continuing,
evolving the man of the future.*
Especially good I deem to be the evolution of form,
through which thereafter, the same labor will produce a
greater evolution than it did before. y
The process of evolution is an inherent, self-acting
process. The continuance of evolution on our globe is
the widest generalization of "good," at present, possible.
So far we cannot do anything beyond our planet. Sci-
ence gives us the conviction, however, that evolution is
taking place throughout the universe — that God and the
universe are one — are the continuous ALL of which
man is a limited part and phenomenon.
When thinking of what is good or bad for man, of
whom do we think? Honestly speaking, perhaps first
of ourselves and, in this connection, not of our bodily
but of our spiritual welfare. Though probably, in the
first place, of our welfare in this life, still I am sure that
nearly all of us are thinking in a vague manner of some
kind of immortality, some kind of existence after death,
as the thought naturally suggests itself that what is
good in our present life will also be good for the future.
I wish to lay great stress upon what I say here : This
thought of a life after death is the most important
feature of the "what is good for ourselves and those
* This is substantially Herbert Spencer's definition of evolution.
f Prof. Ernst Much points out that the nature of science is labor-saving in
thinking.
who are dear to us" (even if we look upon immortality
as a possibility only, not a probability) when we take
the relative length of time of this life and that of the
beyond into consideration.
What, then, is good for the beyond? I answer, what-
ever will make the beyond more certain to us and what
will make us greater in the beyond. That is the real
basis of ethics. I hear the protest : " But we do not and
cannot know anything of the beyond." To this I must
answer: That is an error; we can. Let us look first to
a most simple living individual being, the amoeba. It
is a lump of protoplasm, which absorbs food and grows,
then divides in two and makes two beings, like the
parent being, only smaller at first; the latter absorb
food, grow and divide again. There is no natural
death among the amoeba. Death can only result from
want of food or forcible destruction. Immortality is the
natural state.
And now let us look to man. Physiology shows us
that our children are the continuance of our bodily exist-
ence, not of what we are to-day, but of what we were
near the time they were born. Of what we were at
that time, they are the continued existence, as much, if
not more so, than we ourselves are to-day. The living,
feeling so-called matter, which then lived and felt and
thought in our form, has been replaced hy other matter
again and again. The form only is what has continued
in us. In our children the form gradually developed; in
us it commenced to decline.
A deeper insight into the nature of the soul is fur-
nished by modern psychology; an erroneous conception
of its individuality is destroyed, but its immortality
is given back to us. The souls of posterity, it is
shown, will be the further evolved souls of men of
t.o-day — that is, the totality of the souls of the human
beings of the future is evolved from the souls of the
human beings of this day. Modern psychology has
been called a psychology without a soul. This is a great
error. Nothing but the bad, egoistical part of the soul-
conception has been removed — that is, the permanent
barrier between our soul and that of our fellow beings
and also the permanent barrier between each of us and
the great continuous ALL ; the conviction is settled that
we are but temporarily individualized parts thereof.
I have expressed, before, to the society my view, that
it is a duty to hold firm to the conviction, that we can
understand the nature of ethics. I will here quote from
Goethe: "Man must hold firm to the belief that what
appears incomprehensible to him is comprehensible,
since otherwise he will not investigate." I will now say
that I deem it of the utmost importance for us all, to
convince ourselves, that the future of our souls, their
preservation and evolution, lies in our posterity*; that
*To impress this idea has been Gustav Freitag's life work.
THE OPEN COURT.
is, however, only if we are good. Decline and annihi-
lation, sooner or later, are the nature of the bad.
Preservation and evolution, then — that is immor-
tality— of our soul, that is the true basis of ethics.
What we value in us as our soul, what places us
above the savage, is form. Gradually there has been
evolved from the rude soul of our distant ancestors our
soul of to-da) — our present civilization — and we hope it
will further evolve in our posterity.
Matter is indestructible, energy is indestructible, life
is indestructible, though it can, apparently, be put to
long rest, while form can be destroyed; but there is also
no limit to its possible evolution. The capacity to evolve
form again is indestructible, but to evolve the form of
life which we name the human soul, that is the work
and struggle of millions of years.
DISCUSSION OF MR. HEGELERS ESSAY.
A stenographic report of the discussion which fol-
lowed the reading of Mr. Hegeler's essay is given below:
Remarks by Mr.Prussing:
In the views which Mr. Hegeler lias expressed of matter and
form in general, I helieve I coincide, if I have correctly under-
stood his meaning. As he wished to give the hasis of ethics,
in accordance with his views of the existing world (and, of course,
we can only speak of ethics if we limit our province to our earth).
I understood him to say that the basis of our ethics is the growth
and preservation of the soul of mankind — perhaps I do not use
his very words — preservation and development of the soul of
mankind. He calls that immortality of the soul. It may be
granted that there is a reason for using that expression, just as
well as any similar one, as long as we mean by it that the soul
of mankind, what he in another term expresses to be our civiliza-
tion, has the nature of the immortal, as it will exist as long as man-
kind will itself exist; provided that it cannot go beyond the exist-
ence of mankind in its abode on this globe. If this is the sense
of his meaning, I coincide with him fully. I believe that actually
our faith and our belief that mankind will exist forever, as far as
we are concerned or our children, is a great spur for our action.
Xobodv who is kind at heart can do without this spur. And as this
has been the experience with all nations that have tried to step
forward in the course of civilization, it has formed itself into the
belief or creed of the immortality of the soul. If this belief has.
in religions, taken a different form from that which Mr. Hegeler
has depicted to us, it was perhaps what we would call supersti-
tion; and we have had to struggle hard with the consequences of
such superstition ; perhaps, for that reason, it may be advisable at
present to use different terms for this idea. If you speak to a Chris-
tian or to a Mohammedan of the immortality of the soul, he will
mean the immortality of his own personal inward being, his soul,
that of the individual. He will connect with that idea an eternal
life somewhere else, in heaven we will say, not on this earth. As
this belief, a- I have said before, has caused great harm to the
world, to mankind on earth, I mean — sometimes it has called
forth good actions, but I believe the balance is loaded down by
the great woe it has given rise to in this world — as this belief,
I say, has brought more evil into this world than good, we should
be very careful in using such terms Immortality of the soul, in the
sense which Mr Hegeler has used it, means nothing more than
'• the good of mankind as long as it may exist on this globe." With
the destruction of mankind there can be no immortality of the
soul any more, and, therefore, translated into plain English so
that everybody can understand it, it means : We must work, if we
want to act ethically, for the good of mankind, for those that live
with and come after us. Of course we cannot benefit those that
have gone before us, those that are dead. They have benefited
us, and all we can do regarding them is to honor ourselves
by revering them in a grateful mind.
Now, the question is whether we can reconcile this idea of an
ethical basis with the views that Mr. Hegeler has given us of the
work of nature. If I understand him correctly, he says preserva-
tion and growth, or development, is in itself " the good " for the
world, and whatever is good for the world is the basis of ethics.
I cannot concede that. I have found cases of development in
the world which have not served the good of mankind. Devel-
opment is not always a right development. Mere growth is not
always growth in a right direction. Mr. Hegeler says the fittest
will survive. Yes, so they will, but the fittest for survival are not
always the good, are not always the best. I do not take it that
mere force, mere strength, which is actually the cause of surviv-
ing, must naturally be good, ethical, virtuous. I have a different
basis for my ethics, although I say that development is a part of
that basis, but not all of it. I consider development the means
for the attainment of the real end or intention (if I can use that
expression, although it is, perhaps, not well chosen) ; but let us say
for the present that it is the intention of mankind to develop. I
know that development gives pleasure and that it generally con-
duces to the well-being of mankind; but not every development, not
development in every direction, leads to that end. Suppose that
you want to acquire the properties of beauty: You will do it by
developing your body in such forms as will be considered by the
majority of the opposite sex, or by your own sex, or your tribe, as
beautiful ; gvmnastics are a means for it, dancing another, etc.
Instead of developing his body now in a harmonious way, suppose
some man goes on to develop it until he converts himself into an
athlete. He will be highly developed, but the beauty will be
gone. He may astonish you, he may frighten you. He may
enact tool-hardy things which will be called almost barbarous.
He is so highly developed that it overreaches all beauty. Is the
development in this case actually of great value? I can find no
other basis of ethics than this : Good is that ■which tends to the
best interests of mankind, -.hat -.ill make mankind the happier
in th,' very best sense of the word. Do not take it to mean that
every individual must be happy. On the contrary, a man may
sacrifice his personal happiness, yea, even his life, in order to enjoy
that happiness which makes him an ethical person; but if he does
it, if he sacrifices his life for the good of society, for the good of
mankind, all other considerations conducing to his own happiness
are of trifling worth to him. The idea that he does act for the good
of mankind, for posterity or for the present, for mankind in gen-
eral, elevates him above all merely personal considerations. This
is his principle; to act it out, his highest happiness, his dignity,
his honor, the worthiest object of his life. I base my ethics on
this idea that we must, under all circumstances, seek the best
interests of mankind, irrespective of our personal happiness, and
that the means to that end are development of body and soul,
continuous growth, in short, what we call education. The edu-
cation, then, of our children should be such as to teach them what
is good for mankind; that those measures which we should
employ, in order to lead an ethical life, are what we style virtues.
They are not the end of our acting. They are the means employed
by us in the same way as the architect or the builder will employ
his square to lay it to the column with which he wants to support
the building Just in the same way we should act squarely, we
should act right and true, because it is the means of producing
THE OPEN COURT.
23
the greatest happiness of all mankind. As long as we have that
view and keep it in our mind, we will. never act wrongly. As
soon as we leave that out of our consideration, we will be apt to
act in our own personal interest. We would probably act selfishly
instead of for the general good. So, then, what we call right is
the employment of such means as will be approved and com-
mended by every reasonable being; but the end and object of our
acting is and always should be: The greatest happiness of man-
kind in general.
Remarks by Mr. Stern:
I find it at all times exceedingly difficult for me, as a layman,
and I apprehend it is the feeling of the majority, not only to dis-
cuss but to picture to my mind such abstractions as those
to which the essayist of the evening has been treating us.
Like the inexperienced swimmer on the shore, I try to cling
to a life-line to avoid getting into deep water.
Now, we will all admit that the basis of ethics, the true basis
of ethics, is the seeking and furthering of the good. Of course the
question comes in what is good? Good is not an absolute thing.
It is relative. Then it is the best we know. The essayist of the
evening has given us one of the starting points by which to judge
of the good, experience. Survival is the result of the experience
of the past and the general tenor of the essayist's remarks
tended that way. I admit the efficacy of that, but the potent
force in the advancement of ethical good is the imagination, with-
out which there is no ethical progress. Without the imagination
there is no true ethics. I think that the essayist appreciates and
knows it, but he did not touch upon it. That is the life-line, and
the only one that I know of, that will keep us safe in any of these
abstract subjects. It is only by projecting ourselves by aid of the
imagination into an advanced moral state that we can gradually
bring ourselves and humanity up to it. I see no other way.
Experience alone teaches us only of the past. It is imagination
which represents progress in ethics. The form of immortality of
the soul that was shown to us here is a sort of sublimated panthe-
ism. I recognize in it nothing else. How can we imagine such
a state; how can we picture to ourselves such a state by the mere
nhotogram that has been imprinted upon our minds from actual
experience?. By imagination we are projected beyond ourselves
into that which might be and which we can attempt to follow.
Taken in that view, I think that the constant search for the right,
for that which is good, which tends to the survival of the fittest
and the bettering of our conditions, is true ethical progress.
Upon all other matters I think the essayist has only done justice
to his subject. I mean this not as a criticism, but simply to sup-
plement a point that I think the gentleman did not fully explain,
and one which assists me at all events in forming a connecting
link between his various ideas and give them, to my mind, an
appreciable life and intensity.
Remarks by B. F. Underwood:
My calling here this evening was accidental and your kind
invitation extended to me to participate in this interesting discus-
sion, although highly appreciated, is quite unexpected; and the
few remarks I can now make will add nothing to the value of the
discussion. The essayist, and the speakers who have followed
him. have spoken best, I think, in what they have affirmed. Mr.
Hegeler's statement of his own position was stronger and more
satisfactory than his criticism of Spencer's ethics, the main truth
of which is that the ultimate test of morality is happiness. An
act is right or wrong, as it benefits or injures mankind, as it
augments or diminishes the sum total of human happiness. If
the transcendentalist speaks of the "categorical imperative," and
declares that " I ought," is more authoritative than any consid-
erations of utility ; still, in order to know what we ought to do,
we have to go to experience and learn what has been promotive
of happiness. The whole history of civilization, from the dawn
to the present time, is a record of experiences which have edu-
cated us into our present moral conceptions and emotions.
If you say that a moral act often involves suffering to the
individual who performs it, the reply is that society is an organism,
so to speak, of which individuals are but so manv units, and since
the well being, and even the existence, of the individual members
depend upon the existence and security of the collective body, its
interests become of primary importance and must be guarded,
even though individual members suffer. Whatever, therefore, pro-
motes the highest social interests is pronounced right. This is
public utility, the general good.
But we do not always stop to consider a vast train of circum-
stances that must follow a given act. A large part of our moral
life is lived without calculation, without deliberation. We have
in us the organized experience of countless generations who pre-
ceded us, and who, having through ages acted in accordance with
moral rules and principles, slowly learned by experience, have
transmitted to civilized men of to-day the results, as a legacy, in
the form of moral intuition. The moral sense, as it is called,
thus evolved from the multiplied experience of men, has become
a part of our mental constitution and may be as sensitive to a
moral bruise as tactile sense is to the prick of a pin. The
lowest creatures have no sight, no hearing, no taste. Their
whole structure serves the general purpose of performing, with-
out division of labor, the simple functions of life. Slowly life, as
it is developed, differentiates into several senses, — taste, hearing,
seeing, etc., with corresponding organs. Similarly there has been
evolved out of experiences of men who originally could have
made no ethical distinctions, the lofty moral conceptions of to-day.
The race has learned by experience courses of conduct which are
promotive of its well-being and, at the same time, it has acquired
a moral sense, which intuitively' responds to the distinctions
which we have learned to make. This is Spencer's position
briefly, and of course very imperfectly, stated.
Remarks by Mr. Zimmerman:
This subject is one that seems ever to be young and ever to be
fresh and promises never to be settled. As many different indi-
viduals as there are, as many different opinions of what is right
and what is wrong. What is right and what is wrong? What
is good and what is bad? Those four words comprise the whole
foundation of ethics; but, as has been remarked by all the speak-
ers, I think, preceding, right and wrong are relative things, not
absolute. Suppose that you transplanted an Ethiopian from the
deserts of Africa into our city and gave him full swing, present-
ing him with some of our fine buildings, and tell him that he will
be much happier here than in the desert, running about without
any clothing, without any decent food, without any of the other
luxuries that we have, would he be happy? There would not be a
thing that he could enjoy of these luxuries that you have and
enjoy so abundantly. That which he was brought up to he would
much rather have than what you have got. So with right
and wrong. Where do they originate? That is the vital question.
My answer is with the beginning of life right and wrong originate.
The amceba which Mr. Hegeler referred to, one of the lowest
forms of animal life, is nothing more or less apparently than a mass
of gelatine or some substance like that; it breaks in two and the
two creatures, the parent and its offspring, turn and attempt to
devour each other. You look on with your natural sympathies;
you see them struggling, contending one against the other, one
to overcome the other. Now, when you look at that you say
there is a sense of right and wrong developed there and you cannot
avoid a feeling that there is something going on which is the germ
of right and wrong. The one that is devouring the other feels
that it is doing right; the other that it is being wronged and,
^4
THE OPEN COURT.
therefore, the sense of right and wrong begins there. You feel
this same idea up to the highest development of animal life, but
it is the same thing. All life is a contention, a fight, a struggle.
The inferior must ever give way to the superior. The one that has
to give wav is always the one that is wronged. The one that is
successful does not see it in that light at all. Right and wrong
are relative, not absolute, things. So, therefore, what is good and
bad, in the same way, is relative, not absolute. What is good to
one is bad to the other invariably.
As our time is so limited, I have brought a number of notes,
but I will only read you one, which expresses my ideas very
closely. It is from a law book on criminal law, from a class of
lawver:-, who are regarded perhaps with a little aversion by ethical
people; but this is the expression which the author substan-
tiallv gives. I have modified and abbreviated it somewhat.
" In all nations and countries the highway of human progress
is paved with the bones of its weaklings, which are cemented
together with their blood. The strong tread down and trample
out the feeble and, by ending them, diminish the average weak-
ness of the race, while the survivors from this ever-raging con-
flict are those who are strongest and who are thus strengthened
in both body and mind can transmit their acquired vigor to suc-
ceeding generations until the acquired vigor falls under opposition,
when a decav sets in until the strong again become weak and are
themselves overthrown."
This is virtually a synopsis of the world. You saw the
Roman Empire, its rise, its flourish and its fall; the Grecian, the
Egvptian, the Peruvian, the Mexican, in fact all nations of past
histories have gone through just this process and it is ever
going on.
CORRESPONDENCE.
LETTER FROM OUR JERUSALEM CORRESPONDENT
—A REMARKABLE INTERVIEW.
To the Editor : Jerusalem, January 2S, 1SS7.
Since midnight of the 7th of January this city has, as you
know, been the scene of the most tumultuous and maniacal
excitement, it is safe to say, that has been known among human-
kind since in Noah's time the fountains of the great deep were
broken up and hurled in all-engulfing inundation upon the dis-
tracted sons and daughters of Belial. Immediately preceding
that terrible hour Jerusalem seemed to give tair promise of
remaining forever in the semi-unconscious condition which has
been its lot during so many centuries. The spirit of slumber
seemed to pervade the place no less during sunshine than after
dark. The motley inhabitants walked through the narrow and
crooked streets of the ancient city as if they were the bodies of
the saints which once arose in their grave clothes and came
forth from their sepulchers and appeared to many. Scarcely
even could it be said that in the market-places — where the sleepiest
Jew or American generally is aroused into a semblance of anima-
tion— was there any interest manifested in the things of this
world. The contingent of pilgrims that is always to be found in
the Holy City had dwindled to a handful and even they were not
of the enthusiastic kind. Jerusalem was in danger of passing
from sleepiness to coma. Upon this lethargic city, with its drowsy
people, suddenly was sprung the most tremendous seismic
cataclysm of history, accompanied by phenomena which make it
in the eyes of many the chief event in the career of the globe.
The daily papers have given you full accounts of that awful
diapason of world-discord, that hideous outburst of hell-music
which aroused the slumbering city at the ushering in of the 7th
of January and which awakened a third of the children and
delicate women only to send them into convulsions and speedv
but merciful death. They have told you that when the par-
alyzed survivors succeeded in making their way to the doors
and windows of their houses they were met by the appalling
spectacle of an ocean of phosphorescent flame which surrounded
their city on all sides, rising in enormous billows of light
up and up till it reached the zenith and casting a brilliant
but unearthly radiance over all objects in heaven and on
earth; that in the clear space in the center of this well of
flame, in the remotest heavens suddenly appeared a figure of
dazzling splendor, begirt with iridescent garments and wearing
a chaplet of diamonds " each one of which (in the language of a
Chicago reporter then stopping at Jaffa and who came up to
Jerusalem the next day) was estimated by a Jewish diamond
broker to be worth at least as much as the Koh-i-noor." Circling
about in mid-air, and slowly descending, this figure was soon
recognized by a Second Adventist tourist from America — Abijah
Higgins by name — who happened to be out for a promenade
along the Via Dolorosa by moonlight, to be none other than the
long-looked-for Messiah. Terror had up to this moment sealed
the lips of the dumbfounded populace; but upon Abijah's rushing
frantically through the streets yelling, -'It's my Lord," the
word was passed from mouth to mouth and in a short time the
most hideous possible hullaballoo and confusion arose. The
heterogeneous character of the city's population gave rise to the
most various ebullitions of feeling. The Christians were, of course,
exultant. Although there were not many of them who had
believed with any vital faith in the doctrine of millenarianism,
there was a more than Pentecostal conversion among them, and
they ran about the city wildly crying, " Hallelujah! He's come!
He's come!" And to the shrinking Jew or incredulous Moham-
medan whom they met would be addressed the triumphant cry,
"Didn't we tell you so?" The Jews were divided in opinion as
to the nature of the phenomenon. Some said it was Elijah come
again ; others, that it was Jehovah himself come to sweep their
persecutors from the face of the earth ; others said that they were
sore afraid that it was the Christians' God; others were simply
nonplused and said they should wait till daylight before giving
up all hope. The Mohammedans were at first convinced that the
Prophet had made his visible appearance again, in order to earn-
on a crusade against the Giaours who are pressing the Ottoman
Empire so hard; but upon observing that the person was unac-
companied by female attendants, they lost hope and joined their
howls of despair to the Jews' wails. The luminous figure mean-
while descended toward that part of the city in which the Church
of the Holy Sepulcher is located and when it was about a thou-
sand feet from the earth a stentorian voice split the air, seeming
to penetrate every nook and corner of the city, saying, " At last!
At last! I am come to claim mine own. Tremble, O _ve Gentiles!
The day of your reckoning is at hand. I am he ye call Jesus."
And the figure sank gently to the earth and disappeared within
the precincts of the Holy Church.
All this happened three weeks ago. Since that time, what a
prodigious change has come over this once sleepy town ! All the
world over the news went flying that the Lord had reappeared in
Jerusalem and the most unparalleled excitement has ensued.
From every point on the globe where the knowledge of Chris-
tianity has penetrated expeditions have been crowding in upon us.
Asiatics, Africans, Europeans and Americans have swept in bv
the thousand and those now here are only the advance guard ot
the mighty host upon the way. From thirty thousand people
within the walls Jerusalem's population has alreadv swelled to
near a million, within and immediately without the gate6. From
all over the world the telegraph brings accounts of the organizing
by pastors and Sunday-school superintendents of excursions to
the Holy Land to see the Lord, and the latest report is that the
great transatlantic steamship companies have, at a special meeting
THE OPEN COURT.
2 5
of their stockholders, resolved to withdraw their vessels from the
British and American trade and carry passengers direct to the
Holy Land, via the Mediterranean, if the craze continues. The
question how to feed this great multitude of strangers is already
causing some anxiety. Only yesterday there was a report that
an aged Millerite from Maine had been found wandering about
the plains outside the Zion gate in a semi-demented condition
from lack of food. To-day a delegation of the leading citizens
and most prominent visitors of the place called on the Lord at his
temporary headquarters in the Church, with the request that he
take into consideration the question of the physical sustenance of
the great army of pilgrims. Upon his saying that he thought
they ought to be able to manage the commissary department for
themselves if he took charge of the army on Held days, I am
told the committee suggested that he might feed the multitude as
he did before in another place. I am told that his reply was to
the effect that the times had changed, that it was no longer neces-
sary to perform that kind of miracle, and that during his present
sojourn on earth he should utilize natural forces as far as possible,
making use of supernatural expedients only as a last resort and
mainly in the interest of missionary work among the infidels and
heathen, which work would take up a large share of his time and
energy during the next thousand years.
Much of the foregoing information has been communicated to
vou through the daily press. But»you will remember that almost
the first manifesto which the Lord issued to the world since his
descent — a manifesto promulgated through the Archangel
Michael on the morning of the 9th and published in the New
York daily papers of the 10th inst. — was to the effect that he
would see no newspaper men ; that he had heard they always made
mistakes in reporting conversation and that he was preparing an
announcement which, when completed, would be given to the
press. As, however, he expressed in the same manifesto his
willingness to see other professional men, provided they were
duly respectful — he had always admired humility — and did not
ask for personal favors, I concluded that I would risk a call,
knowing as I did that I should probably find him at leisure, as
the awe of his followers is so great that they are afraid of close
association with him, preferring to see him afar off, when he takes
his daily walk along the Via Dolorosa for exercise.
As I had at the time of calling no intention of reporting the
interview, I consider this report to be in no sense a violation of
good faith. Furthermore, when I called I announced that I had
" come upon an errand."
Going toward the Church of the Holy Sepulcher at about
half-past ten yesterday morning, I found the edifice surrounded
by an immense crowd and was obliged to obtain the services of
a guard before I could gel near the entrance. Having final! v
reached the church, I delivered my card to a very important
looking functionary who stood at the portal, and, having looked
me over rather contemptuously, I suppose on account of my
modest raiment, he at last opened the door and told me to pass
within. A lackey dressed in gorgeous ecclesiastical vestments
bade me follow him and led me past the various chapels of the
place, in which the warring sects of Christendom had been
accommodated by the lordly Mohammedan rulers, and on an
extemporized dais in the center of the church I beheld a man of
magnificent physique, of kingly bearing and of a stern but
thoughtful countenance, who was engaged in writing upon a
parchment. Unaccustomed to regal pomp and ceremony and
having in mind the meek and lowly Jesus of old, I was about to
go up to the personage, offer my hand and announce the object of
my visit, when the functionary at my side commanded me to bow
three times to the earth and say, " All hail, King of heaven and
earth." This done, I wa6 permitted to advance to a low seat in
front of the king, where I sat down and waited his pleasure
Looking up from his writing, presently, the Lord saw me and
immediately opened conversation. His voice was strong and reso-'
nant; he spoke rapidly, without gesticulation, and in forcible but
not euphuistic English, a slight imperfection in his pronunciation
of the th indicating that English was not his native tongue.
"I perceive that you are an American," he said. "I am
always glad to meet persons from your country, although the
pleasure is one which I do not often experience, owing to tin
heterodox opinions of most of your countrymen."
" Yes, Sire," I said, "it is true that but few of us have credited
the predictions of your reappearance, but I trust that the holv and
useful lives that have been led by many of our great men ma\
have enabled them to find grace in your eyes. There are Wash
ington, and Jefferson, and Emerson, and Longfellow — "
" My humble friend," interrupted the Lord, " the names vou
mention are indeed familiar to me, but I do not remember meet-
ing the gentlemen to whom you refer. You must certainly know
that mere morality is not sufficient to admit a soul to the sacred
presence. I said of old, and I repeat it now, ' Unless a man
believe, he shall be damned.' "
" Hut," I interjected. " I thought the learned doctors had
decided that you meant to prefix a syllable to that word and
change the vowel and make it read 'condemned.'"
"What I said I said," was the reply, "and I have no patience
with the sickly effeminacy which would seek to change that good
old English word damn into demn in order to please the grannv 1
school in the Church. God is God in all tongues and damn is
damn. What would be the use of a hell unless there were damna-
tion ?"
Receiving no reply, he continued:
" Did I not say, emphatically, that I would come again, in
power and great glory in the clouds of heaven, and that ' this
generation should not pass away until all these things should be
fulfilled?' I never heard that the worthies vou speak of believed
this word."
" They could not believe it, Sire, because they could not recon
cile it with the fact that that generation to which you spoke had
passed away without the fulfillment of the prediction," I ventured
to interpose.
" Facts have nothing to do with the virtue of belief," was the
reply. "They should have believed in spite of facts. Indeed,
that statement was made simply as a shibboleth by which to sort
out the sheep from the goats. The design was that each genera-
tion must take that asseveration to refer to itself and believe and
act accordingly. How many in each generation since the other
time have had this faith? Very few. They are the sheep. Your
fellow-countryman, William Miller, was one of the greatest 01
these sheep. He was worth a dozen strait-laced Washingtons or
pantheistic Emersons and great is to be his reward. In a few
weeks, when my arrangements are completed for the resurrection
of the just, I shall raise him first and appoint him Grand High
Herald of the Kingdom."
"Sire," I asked, "do you mean by 'the resurrection of the
just' those of righteous and honorable lives who have been upon
the earth in times past?"
" By no means," was the reply. "That is a common misun-
derstanding ol the phrase. By it I mean just those who have in
the past believed that this (their) generation was to behold the
second advent. The resurrection of all merely good men might
overpopulate the earth. But we can easily accommodate all who
have believed, at any given time, in the immediate advent of the
Son of Man, so called. If the number proves greater than I
expect — I have not made any very careful calculations; I leave
all arithmetical work to my servant Daniel — we can easily
hitch another planet to the earth and establish an overflow meet-
ing of the saints, as it were."
26
THE OPEN COURT.
"My Lord," said I, "would you object to giving to a poor
man a brief outline of what you propose to do while you are
here? It is a subject of great importance to me and my future
movements will be largely controlled by any information you
mav vouchsafe."
The lord looked at me searchingly. " You're not one of those
newspaper men in disguise, are you?" he said. "You don't
intend to sell this news?"
" I have no such intention at present," I said, guardedly.
"Well, mv humble servant," continued his omnipotence, "..
may sav that the first thing I shall do after issuing my pronun-
ciamento will be to apply the torch to various portions of the
habitable globe. This in order that the Scripture may be ful-
filled. ' The elements shall melt with fervent heat, the earth, also,
and the works that are therein shall be burned up.' "
" But, Most Worthy Master," I remonstrated, "that will surely
subject you to the reproach of being called an Anarchist and will
besides cause a great deal of suffering and great loss of ecclesias-
tical and other precious property."
"I can't help that," was the reply. "It is necessary that
there should be a general house-cleaning in this old world and
fire is a great purifier. And the fulfillment of prophecy cannot
be staved by considerations of individual convenience.
" Following the great conflagration will come the first resur-
rection. This process will probably occupy several days, on
account of the great care which the Recording Angel must exer-
cise in determining just who are to be raised and in bringing the
work well up to date. It would be very embarrassing, you know,
if one of my subordinates should resurrect a man whom I should
subsequently discover must be reinterred. The next thing to be
done will be the remodeling and rebuilding of Jerusalem. My
present quarters in this church are very unsatisfactory and not at
all of the kind to which I have been accustomed. I must say
that I like more majesty and grandeur and extension about my
habitation," and the Lord gazed discontentedly about at the some-
what contracted area and tawdry decorations of the Church of the
Holy Sepulcher. "You should see my official mansion in the
City of God; no gilt work there — foundations and superstructure
all of the genuine yellow metal, veneered with gems. I haven't
time to mention all the particulars, but you can read all about the
materials in Rev. xxi:i8-2i, for the palace is built to harmonize
with the walls. I do not know but I shall bring the New Jerusa-
lem down from home — perhaps it would be as easy as to try to
make over this old nest of rookeries. But in some way I shall
certainlv establish quarters to which I shall not be ashamed to
invite Pa and Parry.
" Next I propose to take in hand the infidels. I shall send out
some of the resurrected Millerites and Chiliasts of all descriptions
— men of gigantic intellects all of them — to convert the so-called
scientists, and if they do not readily succumb to argument, I
shall try other means of bringing them to their senses," and the
Lord toyed significantly with an elaborately ornamented gold
paper-knife, in the shape of a Turkish yataghan, which lay on
his writing table. "Of late years these men have become very
bold and I must give them a lesson. This is, indeed, the main
reason for my advent at this time. A few years more and it
would have been too late. There is one particularly blatant infidel
in your country, one B I by name, who some
years ago caused great travail of spirit to one of my most doughty
lieutenants, T *, of Brooklyn. I know all about it, for
T gave us full particulars one morning in his prayer. I
mean to have a personal interview with that fellow and if he
doesn't come round verv quickly, I — I'll have him bastinadoed."
*I suppress these names, not desiring to anticipate the Lord's work of
warning or of reassurance.
" Most Potent Seignior," I here interjected, " there is at pres-
ent in my country a controversy raging with respect to the future
lot of the heathen who have not heard the ' glad tidings of great
joy.' One party says that these heathen, inasmuch as they have
not accepted the only Saviour, are doomed to hell. The other
party says that as such heathen have not accepted Thee, because
they never heard of Thee, it were unjust to punish them for
their misfortune and that they will have a chance of knowing
Thee in the future. What is the truth about this matter, O King?"
" About the heathen who are already dead," was the answer,
" I cannot now speak. But those who are now alive and have
not heard of me, will hear very shortly and with no uncertain
sound. You remember the promise in the second Psalm, ' I shall
give thee the heathen for thine inheritance: thou shalt break
them with a rod of iron; thou shalt dash them in pieces like a
potter's vessel.' That doesn't look as though we were going to 1
err on the side of pusillanimity, does it? I purpose sending out
very soon an immense army of my retainers to conquer the
heathen and bring them before my throne and they will soon
cease their troubling. At any rate, I am determined they shall
all be baptized. Any who demur will be broken with a rod of
iron, as promised. And death will not come to end their suffer-
ings. Everybody has got to live a thousand years. Oh, we shall
all be very happy."
"But it will be a big job _ to convert all the heathen and the
infidels," I ventured to remark.
"Not after I bind Satan," was the reply. "The Devil is at
the bottom of most of the antagonism to Us. He received a
' dreadful scaring the other night and fled to the uttermost parts of
hell when I came down, and as he is an exceedingly crafty and
fleet-footed personage, I suppose it will be some time before my
servants take him. But as soon as he is safely bound and tumbled
into the pit, our work will be much simpler."
" If no one is to die for a thousand years," I observed, "and
marrying and giving in marriage are to continue, how will the
world contain the vast population that will come upon it, in addi-
tion to the large number who are to be resurrected ?"
"The population will not increase so rapidly as you think, my
unsophisticated friend. You remember my servant Isaiah said
that in the millennium ' the child shall die an hundred years old;'
that is, the child shall cease to be a child and become a man at
that age. Now, if parents find that their children are to be
dependent on them for a hundred years instead of a dozen, will
not there be a positive check to increase of population? Think
of the misery of nursing a lad of sixty through an attack of
the measles, or listening to the wailings of a girl of thirty-five in
the agonies of teething! The birth-rate of the world will greatly
diminish as a result of this wise provision."
"Then the Talmudian calculation that in the millennium each
Israelite will have sixty thousand children, or as many as the
total number of the Israelites who went out from Egypt, is
incorrect?"
"Obviously."
"The Sibylline books declare that in the millennium there
will be no more seas, no more winters, no more nights; that ever-
lasting wells will run honey, milk and wine. Is this prophecy
correct?"
" I do not think we can escape the obligation of drying up the
sea. Rev. 21 :i says plainly, 'There shall be no more sea,' so we
shall have to get rid of the ocean in some way. Probably we will
turn it into fire at the time of the universal conflagration. But
the other predictions were only the vagaries of a distempered
intellect, as was -also the prediction that during the millennium
men would be, as before the fall, two hundred yards high."
" How, mav I ask," said I, " do you reconcile the promise of
your universal and triumphant reign during the millennium with
THE OPEN COURT.
27
the statement in Revelation that at the end of the thousand years
'the nations of the earth shall, under the leadership of the liber-
ated Satan, attack the saints in their stronghold?"
" Now, now, my good fellow," was the somewhat testy reply,
" you mustn't ask me to explain the Apocalypse. There are limits
to even omniscience. I doubt if the Holy Spirit himself, who
dictated Revelation, could explain it. Now, I've got other things
to do besides talking to you. I haven't been so busy in a million
years. So I'll wish you good morning."
" But, Sire, the beasts in Rev "
" Beast me no beast. Good-day. Raphael, show this person the
way out. If I am so pestered with questions again I'll have to
forbid the premises to these callers."
And taking up his pen, the Lord went on with his writing, not
noticing the profound salaams with which I signalized my
departure. I fear that I offended him by my last questions. This
may prove very unfortunate to me. The ways of the East are
dark, and in case you do not hear from me again, you may
surmise that your correspondent has met the fate of those who
incur the enmity of powerful eastern potentates. But if this
letter reaches you and gets in type, and helps to dispel the
prevalent illusions and wild reports concerning the Lord and his
plans, I shall be content. Special.
BOOK NOTICES.
To the Poet-Laureate. Louis Be/rose, Jr. Brentano's, Wash-
ington, D. C, 1SS7.
This spirited and musical poem, in the fascinating meter of
Lockslcy Hall, is a defence of scientific thought against Lord
Tennyson. Whatever doubt may exist about the meaning of
Lockslcy Hall Sixty Fears After ought to disappear after a careful'
perusal of the longer and much poorer poem published with it
The whole volume is meant to discredit liberal views of science
and politics, by making them appear hostile to morality, and Mr.
Belrose is entitled to the thanks of the friends of intellectual lib-
rety and popular government for his defence of scientific thought.
venting prosecution for fraud. Due attention is called to the fact
that the Sabbath is openly broken with impunity by railroads and
other corporations, the community appearing to be in favor of the
law but against its enforcement. To get rid of the demoralizing
effects of laws which people are not expected to obey, it is urged
that the Sundav statutes be reduced in Massachusetts, as they
have been in other States, sufficiently to make it possible to carry
them out. The plan in the pamphlet is to forbid all labor not
needed to secure "reasonable personal comfort" or rescue of
property "from actual waste," and make proper allowance for
travel as well as for " recreation, social intercourse or whatsoever
other pastimes be of good report." These recommendations will
have all the more effect from the scholarly and dispassionate tone
in which they are offered. But it should be remembered,
that what needs most to be reformed, not only in New England
but even in Chicago, is public opinion, which at present looks at
Sunday amusements with a cowardly asceticism worthy of St.
Simon Stylites.
Ein Leben in Liedern, Gedichte eines Heimathlosen.
Milwaukee, Wis. Freidenker Publishing Co.
This little volume of poems contains, as its title suggests, the
portrayal of a life in song. The author is an evolutionist and his
work has, in addition to its poetic merit, a scientific interest. He
acquaints us with the various stages of his intellectual develop-
ment and religious growth, the rise of his hope& and fears, his
early faith, his first doubts, his despair in feeling the basis of his
religious belief crumbling away and, at last, his satisfaction and
joy as he grew into broader thought and attained to higher ideals
of life and duty. The love songs abound in fine sentiment and
show a refined taste and love of nature. The ideas are elevated
and the language simple and elegant.
The Sunday Law of Massachusetts. What it is as construed
and interpreted by the Supreme Judicial Court. How it is
observed and non-observed and what had better be done in
relation thereto. By a Member of the Massachusetts Bar.
Cupples, Upham & Co., Boston, 1887.
This little pamphlet gives not only all the statutes in full,
which cannot be found together elsewhere, but also an accurate
and impartial summary of the decisions, some of which have
great effect, for instance, in destroying the value of notes and pre-
Mind, the English quarterly review for January, contains very
interesting essays in philosophical and psychological research, the
first of which is on "The Perception of Space," by Prof. Wm.
James, which he discusses in a matter-of-fact way with great pen-
etration in his quaint and original style. Prof. H. Sedgwick treats
of "Idiopsychological Ethics," in reply to the views of Dr. Mar-
tineau. James Ward continues his papers on " Psychological
Principles." Under the general head of " Research," J. M. Cat-
tell details "Experiments on the Association of Ideas"; J. Jacobs,
"Experiments on Prehension"; Francis Galton, F. R. S., gives
supplementary notes on " Prehension in Idiots." Prof. J. Dewey
discusses" Illusory Psychology," and replies to Shadworth Hodg-
son's strictures. Prof. C. L. Morgan discusses " The Generaliza-
tions of Science." There are able critical essays by Prof. H.
Seth, T. Whittaker, J. Sully, Grant Allen and Prof. R. Adamson.
The book notices include an account of recently published philo-
sophical and psychological works. Edited by G. Croom Robert-
son, and published by Williams Sc Norgate, London.
The Art Amateur for February offers a premium of $100
for the best design for a new cover for the Magazine. This will
give a fine opportunity for young designers to try their skill.
The drawings must be sent by the first of March, 18S7. This
number opens with a fine bold sketch of Tennyson made in Octo-
ber, 1886. The old poet certainly does not look as if he had lost
either vigor or independence by becoming a lord. Montezuma gives
a fot-pourri of entertaining gossip and Greta her usual Boston cor-
respondence. There is an interesting account of the Stewart col-
lection which is to be sold by auction in New York in March. This
is well illustrated by spirited sketches from paintings of Meis-
sonier and Gerome. Among the decorative designs is a charm-
ing little panel representing Winter by Froment. A good deal of
6pace is given to architecture and the decoration of rooms in city
and country houses while ceramics, amateur photography and
needle-work have their due share of attention and those who wish
to employ the Lenten Season in the pious work of embroidering
chasubles and other vestments can find instructions for that also.
The ever-entertaining correspondence suggests as many questions
as it answers. The Art Amateur continues its good work of
diffusing sound principles of art through the country, besides
affording much practical assistance to the amateur who cannot
obtain professional instruction. We wish it would give, aho, a
little more art matter suited to the general reader, such as biogra-
phies of living artists, criticisms of schools and of celebrated
works.
28
THE OPEN COURT.
MISCELLANEOUS.
UNAWARES.
A song welled up in the singer's ru-:irt,
(Like a song in the throat of a bird).
And loud he sang, and far it rang,—
For his heart was strangely stirred;
And he sang for the very joy of song,
With no thoughts of one who heard.
Within the listener's wayward soul
A heavenly patience grew.
He fared on his way with a benison
On the singer, who never knew
How the careless song of an idle hour
Had shaped a life anew.
— Alice Williams Brothtrton in 'January Atlantic
So strong was the bent of his mind in an humorous
direction that some theologians have accused him of
want of reverence for religion; which accusation may
lie true of the sticks and stubble men call religion, but
not of the genuine article, as we will see by and by.
Some of the more strenuous patriots desired the Com-
mittee of Safety to require the Episcopal clergy to
refrain from praying for the King. "The measure,"
said Franklin, "is quite necessary; for the Episcopal
clergy, to my certain knowledge, have been constantly
praying these twenty years that God would give to the
King and his council wisdom, and we all know that not
the least notice has ever been taken of that prayer."
In one of his conversations with John Adams he
wittily distinguished Orthodoxy from Heterodoxy by
saying "Orthodoxy is my doxy and Heterodoxy isyour
doxy." In another place he remarks, "Steele says that
the difference between the Church of Rome and the
Church of England is only this: that the one pretends
to he infallible and the other to be never in the wrong.
In the latter sense we are most of us Church of England
men, though few of us confess it and express it so
naturally and frankly as a certain ladv here, who said,
1 do not know how it happens, but I meet with nobody,
except myself, that is always in the right."
It is related of Franklin, but I do not know how
truthfully, that, when a boy, he slyly advised his father
to say grace over the whole barrel of pork and so save
time at dinner.
He specially excelled in delicate irony. In a letter to
his friend De Chamount ( whose house he had occupied
at l'assy) he says: "As to Tinck, the maitre d' hotel,
he was fairly paid in money for every just demand he
could make against us and we 'nave his receipts in full.
Hut there are knaves in the world no writing can hind,
and, when you think you have finished with them, they
come with demands after demands sans fin. He was
continually saying of himself, I am an honest man, I am
an honest man. Hut I always suspected he was mis-
taken, and so it proves." — From a lecture on Benjamin
Franklin by IV. Symington Brown.
Eny .
THE PARKER TOMB FUND.
A fund is now being raised by the friends and admirers of Theodore Par-
ker to improve the condition of his tomb, in the Old Protestant Cemetery, Flor-
ence, llaly. The list of subscribers to date is as follows :
Miss Frances Power Cobbe, England,
Rev. James Martineau, D.D , "
Professor F. W. Newman,
Miss Anna Swanwiek, "
Rev. Peter Dean,
Mrs. Catharine M. Lyell,
Miss Florence Davenport-Hill, "
William Shaen, Esq.,
Mme. Jules Favre, Directress of the Slate Superi
Sevres, France,
M.Joseph Fabre, ex-Deputv, Paris, France,
M. Paul Bert, of the Institute, " "
Professor Albert Reville,
M. Ernest Renan, of the French Academy, P.iri
R. Rheinwald, publisher, Paris, France,
Mme. Griess-Traut, " "
Rev. Louis Leblois, Strasburg, Germany,
Miss Matilda Goddard, Boston, Mass.,
Mrs. R. A. Nichols,
Caroline C. Thayer, "
F. H. Warren, Ohelmsford, "
F. W. Christern, New York,
Mrs. E. Christern, "
Louisa Southworth, Cleveland, < >.
S. Brewer, Ithaca, N. Y.
E. D. Cheney, Boston,
A. Wilton, Alexandria, Minn.,
David G. Francis, New York,
Robert Davis, Lunenburg, Mass.,
H. G. White, Buffalo, N. Y.,
M. D. Conway, "
A. B. Brown, Worcester, Mass.,
Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Tenarly, N.J.,
Theodore Stanton, Paris,
J. Cary, M. D., Caribou, Me.,
Mrs. Stanton-Blatch, B. A., Basingstoke,
A Friend, Philadelphia, Pa.,
Jacob Hoftner, Cincinnati, O.,
Charles Voysev, London, England,
Count Goblet d'Alviella, Brussels, Belgium,
Luther Colby (Editor Banner of Light),
B. F. Underwood, Boston, Mass.,
James Eddy, Providence, R. I.,
Chas. Nash and Sister, Worcester, Mass.,
Fred. H. llenshaw, Boston, Mass.,
Rose Mary Crawslay, Breconshire, Eng.,
Geo. J. Holyoake, Brighton,
James Hall, St. Denis, Md.,
S. R. Urbino, Boston, Mass.,
E. C. Tahor, Independence, Iowa,
Menvia Taylor, Brighion, Eng.,
G. W. Robinson, Lexington, Mass.,
G. P. Delaplaine, Madison, Wis.,
Mrs. L. P. Danforth, Philadelphia, Pa..
P. B. Siblev, Spearfish, Dak.,
M.J. Savage, Boston, Mass.,
Wm. J. Potter, New Bedford, Mass.,
Caroline de Barrau, Paris,
Joseph Smith, Lambertville, N.J.,
John H. R. Molson, Montreal, Canada,
Miss Kirstine Frederikson, Denmark,
Mrs. T. Mary Broadhurst, London, Eng.,
Miss A. L. Browne, " "
R. Ileber Newton, Garden City, N. Y.,
S. C. Gale, Minneapolis, Minn.,
R. E. Grimshaw, Minneapolis, Minn.,
E. M. Davis, Philadelphia, Pa.,
Mrs. Rebecca Moore, London, Eng.,
Axel Gustafson,
Zabel Gustafson, "
Mrs. Laura Curtis Rullard, New York.
Annie Besant, London, Eng.,
Fredrik Bajer, Deputy, Copenhagen, Denmark,
Mile. Maria Deraismes, President y theSeine-et
Federation, Paris,
Rjornstjerne Bjornson, Norway,
II. L. Bra*kstad, London, Eng.,
M. Godin, Founder of the Familistere, Guise, F
Jane Cobden, London, Eng.,
H. E. Berner. Christiana, Norway,
J. M. Yeagley, Lancaster, Pa.,
Dr. Samuel L\ Young, Ferrv Village, Me.,
J. W. Braley, New Bedford," Ma s.,
M. M. Manigasarian, Philadelphia, Pa..
Miss Leigh Smith, Algiers, Africa,
Dr. J. F. Noves, Detroit, Mich.,
John C. Hayhes, Boston,
M. T. Adams, Boston, Mass.,
Rosa M. Avery, Chicago, 111.,
Miss Abbie W. May, Boston, Mass.,
Rev. R. Fisk, Watertown, N. Y.,
Henry W. Brown, Worcester, Mass.,
JosepTi Wood, Bar Harbor, Me.,
W. M. Salter, Chicago, III.,
S. B. Weston, Philadelphia, Pa.,
W. L. Sheldon, St. Louis, Mo.,
Charles D. Presho, Boston,
James D. Atkins, Florence, Mass.,
W. L. Foster, Hanover, Mass.,
Felix Adler, New York,
Subscriptions may be sent to The Open Court or to John C. Haynes, 451
Washington street, Boaton, Mas*.
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The Open Court
A Fortnightly journal,
Devoted to the Work of Establishing Ethics and Religion Upon a Scientific Basis.
Vol. I. No. 2.
CHICAGO, MARCH 3, 18S7.
I Three Dollars per Year.
"( Single Copies, 15 cts.
THE MISSION OF SECULARISM.
BY FELIX L. OSWALD.
In the pursuit of all human enterprises a clear defini-
tion of purpose is a chief condition of success. It secures
efficient co-operation; it prevents aberrations; it ob-
viates illusions and misconstructions. The progress of
Secularism has undoubtedly been retarded by such
stumbling-blocks. Its doctrine has been mistaken for
a gospel of sensuality and egotism, for a depreciation of
the higher in favor of the lower propensities of the
human mind. " Earthlv things should subserve the
divine," says our pious brother. " We should encourage
the beautiful, the useful will encourage itself," says our
aesthetic sister.
Now, the truth is that, in a normal state of social
conditions, the beautiful and the divine (i. e., the moral
metaphysical principle), as well as the useful, will en-
courage themselves, an excess on either side being natur-
ally followed by a reaction in the opposite direction.
When the pursuit of power and wealth had secured the
citizens of Rome a surplus of material blessings, the love
of arts began to unfold a profusion of spontaneous
blossoms. When the sophists of Greece wasted an
undue proportion of time on hyperphysical speculation,
the satire of Aristophanes, and the practical protest of
the Cynics, brought their countrymen back from cloud-
land to earth. After the rush for paradise had led the
hosts of Islam from conquest to conquest, the victors
devoted their leisure to architecture, to rational agricul-
ture and science. When the population of China seemed
to sink in tie marasmus of selfish sensuality, Confucius,
with signal success, though without an appeal to the
authority of any supernatural agencies whatever, incul-
cated the duties of a sublime altruism. Speculative
religion, i. e., the study of spiritual manifestations and
cosmological traditions, has received all the attention it
deserves, even among barbarous nations, in the very
earliest ages of authentic history. The normal progress
of social development leads from militant barbarism to
the organization of a military commonwealth, to political
stability and the recognition of civil rights, to co-opera-
tion, industry and wealth, to art, literature, refinement
and science. Nations grow as trees grow and have to
spread their roots and acquire stamina before they can
produce flowers and fruit. The promise of the rose
slumbers in the unsightly root of the thorn, and spring-
time will swell the buds of the wild mountain-flower as
well as of the best-nursed garden plant.
But about the time which forms the significant turn-
ing-point of our chronological era the nations of the
Aryan race were stricken with the plague of a moral
epidemic. An Asiatic pest, the poison of the life-blight-
ing doctrine of pessimism, crept over the moral atmos-
phere of the mediaeval god-gardens; for a series of
centuries the light of reason underwent an eclipse, the
ethical standards of millions of our ancestors were per-
verted, first by an insiduous depreciation, and afterward
by a remorseless suppression of their normal instincts.
The ideal of human endeavors was no longer the Beau-
tiful or the Useful, but the Woeful; a capacity for self-
torture became the standard of human virtue, the renun-
ciation of all earthly blessings the measure of human
merit; health, manhood, freedom, science and industry
were sacrificed on the altar of antinaturalism, and during
a millennium of madness the progress of sixteen nations
of the noblest race was limited to the invention of new
instruments of torture.
As the waters of the pent-up stream gradually rose
against the dam, its embankments were constantly
strengthened; the vast and powerful organization of the
mediaeval church seemed to defy the very hope of
resistance; but nature at last prevailed. The pressure
of the accumulated waters finally burst their fetters, and
the flood of revolt, forcing its way through ever-widen-
ing gaps, inaugurated that era of rapid progress which
in the course of the last fourteen decades has tried to
retrieve the delay of a long series of centuries.
But the guilt of a thousand years' crime against
Nature has not yet been expiated. The river has broken
its dam, but its ancient bed has been overgrown with
weeds and choked with drift-sand; the rushing flood has
torn out new channels and wastes its waters, surging in
eddies and shallows here, dashing against hopeless
obstacles there; an undoubted advance in the right
direction is attended with an undoubted aberration and
abuses of a suddenly-regained freedom.
Orthodoxy, the religion of antinaturalism, proposes
to remedy the evil by reconstructing the dam, and thus
putting an end to further progress, as well as to its abuse.
Secularism, the religion of reason, proposes to confine
the river to its normal banks, and limit its waste without
3°
THE OPEN COURT.
hindering its progress. Anarchism, the religion of
revolt, proposes to break all flood-gates and give Nature
a chance to work out her own salvation.
Time has proved the futility of the first plan by the
power of a reaction, which was only strengthened by
resistance and delay. But the violence of that reaction,
though its unaided strength may surmount all obstacles,
cannot dispense with guidance on its forward way.
Nature cannot at once accommodate herself to abnor-
mally-changed circumstances, and we must admit that
the normal instincts of the human race, which anti-
naturalism has failed to suppress, have at least been
sadly perverted. The long-suppressed love of personal
liberty has been perverted into a love of license, a hatred
of laws and authority, a tendency to nihilism and reckless
self-help. The suppression of harmless recreations has
begot a furtive delight in vicious pleasures and a tend-
ency to evade the appeals of reform, asceticism having
masqueraded in the guise of virtue till its victims have
forgotten to distinguish her garb from its counterfeit.
The suppression of natural science has driven the submis-
sive into stolid nescience — contented renunciation of in-
tellectual pursuits — the bolder into pseudo-science, the
morbid mysticism and neo-gnosticism that finds support-
ers in the ranks of the most sincere apostates from the
tenets of the established creed. They have exchanged
the drugs of their spiritual poison-mongers for an equally
baneful antidote, like opium-eaters who break the thral-
dom of their habit only to find themselves fettered by the
bane of the liberating specific. The suppression of free
inquiry has fostered the loathsome vice of hypocrisy.
People who for generations saw their holiest rights
outraged in the name of a pretended truth of revelation,
have avenged their wrongs on truth itself, by making
ethics a synonyme of cant and hiding their private
theories on the highest interests of their species behind a
mask of habitual dissimulation.
The main purpose of Secularism has been tersely
defined as the problem of rescuing the human mind
from its exile in ghost-land; but many of our brethren
have endured that exile till they have become strangers
in the house of their Mother Earth. They are still
biased by an hereditary lack of trust in the competence
of their natural instincts, and it is the mission of Secular-
ism to revive that trust. We must redeem the impu-
tation of ivorldliness from its implied reproach, and
restore the cosmos of our wonderful earth to its ancient
associations of beauty, bounty and self-maintaining order.
We must replant the groves of Pan and awaken the
God of fields and forests from his long slumber; we
must teach the votaries of Nature to worship their God
in his own temple. Earth must once more become the
cherished home of all her children. Her blessings
must no longer be sacrificed, neither in offerings to the
Moloch of supernaturalism, nor in the mad riots of
rebellious vice. We must demonstrate the identity of
virtue and happiness by teaching the refugees from the
bondhouse of asceticism to distinguish the monitions of
their normal instincts from the morbid cravings of vice,
and the rights of natural liberty from the claims of law-
less insolence. A religion of reason and science will
make conformity an honor rather than a reproach to its
confessors, and reduce dissent to a synonyme of infidelity
to the laws of Nature. The exponents of that religion
will invite, rather than discourage, free inquiry; knowl-
edge will become an aid to faith, and converts will no
longer be obliged to renounce their allegiance to truth
and self-respect.
Secularism will be at peace 'with all other religions,
except the pseudo-religion of that earth-blighting insan-
ity that teaches the antagonism of body and mind, and
would sacrifice the living to the dead as it sacrifices the
realities of the present world to be chimeras of ghost-land.
Against the life-poisoning delusions of that dogma,
Secularism invites the alliance of all saner creeds, even
in the name of religion itself, since neither physical nor
moral health has ever encountered a deadlier foe than
the system that inculcates the vanity of secular pursuits
and depreciates the blessings of earth as so many evils
in disguise. To how large an extent that truth has
already been tacitly recognized, may be inferred from
the fact that millions of our fellow-men even now devote
all the energy of their working days to a pursuit of
those temporal blessings which their Sunday creed con-
tinues to denounce as sinful vanities. The doctrine of
Pessimism has thus in a two-fold sense become a sham-
religion, and the mission of Secularism involves the task
of obviating the danger of the moral interregnum
threatened by the collapse of a more and more evidently
spurious basis of ethics. The solution of that task does
not require the preternatural aid of a new revelation, but
only the re-establishment of a truth which long guided the
pursuit of happiness before the world of our forefathers
was darkened by the shadow of the dreadful eclipse,
the truth, namely, that the highest physical and the
highest moral welfare of mankind can be only conjointly
attained.
POSSIBILITIES.
BY ROWLAND CONNOR.
The first clear indications of human existence in this
world seem to come from the last pre-glacial period.
The date of these indications cannot be given with any
approach to accuracy. The flung-out hypotheses of our
wise men will lasso the exact truth some day; but as
yet we can only affirm that the race of man is many
thousands, possibly even hundreds of thousands, of years
old. There is no doubt, however, that pre-glacial man,
alike in Africa, Asia, Europe and America, was only a
THE OPEN COURT.
31
hunter of other wild animals and a miserable savage.
L,ong ages passed before the cave-dwellers ceased to
break the marrow-bones of the ancient mammals of
Europe, and through all those ages man was still a
savage. His progress at first seems to have been almost
immeasurably slow. The germ of nothing that can be
called civilization is discoverable until a comparatively
recent time, and what that germ was, or when it first
appeared, is more a matter of speculation than of knowl-
edge. But there was a germ; and it grew; and real
civilizations budded from it in the Nile and Euphrates
valleys, and a few other spots, and blossomed brightly
some five or six thousand years ago.
But these blossoms could not live. They were
hemmed in bv the wilderness growths of savagery, and
slowly died. But, dying, some pollen was blown to
Eur >pean soil, and there helped to fertilize some other
early blossoms that gave us the greater civilizations of
Greece and Rome. But these, too, were blighted.
Northern and Eastern hosts of barbarians were flung
upon and trampled over them, and for a thousand years
civilization struggled to live. Only recently has a
civilization bloomed, so profuse, so hardy, with roots so
deep and spreading, that savage growths recede before
it. It cannot be crushed, or even badly injured, by the
same enemies that dealt so cruelly with its immature
and restricted predecessors of former times. This last
civilization is destined to possess the earth.
What are some of its possibilities?
Although, compared with the age of his ancestral
tree, the civilized being is very, very young, already the
distance between him and the savage is so vast that they
seem to belong to distinct orders. The anatomist's
probe and scalpel may find them both alike, but, between
the beastly savage who cannot add two and two, and
the man who can lovingly read The Data of Ethics,
there is apparently less real kinship than between the
former and the chimpanzee. And yet the disciple of the
philosopher has sprung from his barbarian ancestor
almost as suddenly as the butterfly springs from the
grub. There is a mysterious potency in civilization. It
puts an elixir into the blood, or recombines the atoms of
the gray matter of the brain, or mingles a new element
somehow or somewhere with the chemistry of man's
make-up, so that he is transformed, and we cannot from
his long past, but only from his recent development,
prophecy what he may become. Ages of worm-life
and a thousand years of chrysalis, but the wings began
to unfold only yesterday.
I put especial emphasis upon the comparative new-
ness, as well as the assured perpetuity, of modern civili-
zation, because only as we do so can we rationally
account for the amazing growths it must soon produce.
The "lost arts" of the ancients have caused some scep-
tics to question the permanency of our analogous
modern productions. But circumstances have changed.
What is born to-dav in invention, or art, or science, or
philosophy, will live forever, if we wish it to live. And
it will not only live, but it will continually reproduce.
Printing, for instance, which is practically new, has
given us within the last fifty years a host of other arts,
and professions, and machines innumerable; but a hun-
dred experimenters, who are carefully watching it,
could prophesy with calm conviction concerning a host
of other arts just starting from it. Men are yet living
who trod the deck of the first steamboat on the Hudson
river, and men are not old who ante-date the familiar
railway and telegraph; but of what are these not the
parents, and of what children yet unborn will they not
be the sires hereafter!
Not only is inventive genius more fertile with each
succeeding year, but our assimilation of inventions is
more rapid. Less than ten years ago the writer listened
to the first lecture on the telephone in New York city,
and was amused, with other auditors, when the curious
little toy reproduced the notes of a choir on the oppo-
site side of the river. Its practical usefulness was then a
dream of the inventor. But three years afterward, in
the primeval woods of the great Northwest, he sat in the
locomotive cab of a logging railroad while the engineer
climbed down to unlock a rough box nailed to a tree, that
the telephone within it might bring him his orders from
the camp " boss." Our progress in inventions and in
the practical assimilation of their results will be much
more rapid in the next fifty than in the last fifty years.
We have not yet fairly learned to handle the new tools
we are working with.
Attempts to predict the future of man on the earth
have been made very often, but are mostly of a fanciful
nature. They have been designed to furnish amusing
reading, and have seldom paid much regard to the
necessity of a basis of fact. Utopias, also, are many,
but their authors have written them chiefly as pleasing
methods of advocating some pet social theory, and they
are therefore useless for our present purpose. By con-
fining ourselves strictly to legitimate deductions from
present knowledge, I believe that some broad outlines
of the future may be drawn with considerable accuracy.
The unavoidable errors will be those arising from a
non-consideration of unknown forces yet to be dis-
covered.
Of mechanical inventions there are several just at
hand which will be followed by results fully as impor-
tant as those due to the steam engine. One of the first
in order of time will be the submarine boat. Its
feasibility has already been demonstrated in New York
harbor — a feeble beginning, indeed, but no more im-
perfect than the beginnings of gunpowder and the
printing press. Of the knowledge to be acquired
under the waves, and of the changes in commerce and
32
THE OPEN COURT.
naval warfare sure to follow the practical success of
submarine navigation, there is room for abundant specu-
lation. But we may be reasonably certain that Jules
Verne's imaginary Twelve Thousand Leagues Under
the Sea will have its wonders surpassed by the stub-
born facts of one hundre 1 years hence.
Closely following submarine navigation, o perhaps,
preceding it, will come the safe navigation of the air.
The inflated balloon has blocked the way of invention
for many years, but, now that its principle is seen to be
erroneous, and we know that the successful flying-
machine must be heavier and not lighter than the at-
mosphere, the production of a practical machine may be
looked for during this generation.
Of more curious interest, though not likely to be
followed by as important practical results, will be the
perfecting of the "electroscope" — that remarkable in-
strument which virtually telegraphs rays of light, and,
by throwing them upon a metallic disk, enables us to
look upon actions taking place at a distance with the
same ease and distinctness with which we now receive
sounds by the telephone. Some combination of these
two instruments will enable us in the future not only to
talk with distant friends but to look at them while we
are talking; and that which is possible to-day within a
distance of fifty miles becomes possible on the morrow
across the Atlantic ocean.
Long before any one of the above inventions is
brought to perfection, however, the new glass, recently
invented in Germany, and which is said to add almost
fabulously to the power of the microscope, will become
the agent of wonderful discoveries, and presumably, at
a later date, we may expect analogous additions to the
power of the telescope.
It is evident that we stand at the thresholds of four
wonderful worlds, and hold in our hands the crude
weapons to be perfected for their conquest — the ocean
world, the aerial world, the world of the infinitely little,
and an astronomical world as far surpassing our present
one as that of the observer with a Lord Rosse telescope
exceeds that of the Chaldean shepherds. And instru-
ments, of which the present electroscope is the forerun-
ner, will bind together the scientific conquerors of these
worlds in so close a communion of workers that they
will seem to he the inmates of a common workshop,
am! each one will have the help of the accumulating
riches of all.
Thai ali railways, including those of city streets,
will soon lie run by electricity, and that all heavy truck-
ing and other similar work will be done by the same
agent, rendering horses useless, except for pleasure pur-
poses, I regard as almost a self-evident proposition. The
same agent will also he employed in the domain of
household economy in manifold ways, lessening greatly
the disagreeable and enervating drudgery now insepar-
able from housekeeping employments. When breakfast
can be prepared with about the same amount of" labor
as now attends the touching of an electric button, as it
will be some day, the momentous and perplexing servant
girl problem will be forever solved.
Our sources of mechanical power will greatly change.
We now dig from the bowels of the earth, at great
expenditure of labor, the compact sunshine of the coal-
beds, stored away ages ago, and neglect entirely, as a
source of power, the sun-heat poured daily upon the
surface of the earth. Invention has already been
directed toward this source, and must soon succeed.
Sun-power should before this have taken the place of
coal in all inland places. On the sea-coast, however,
the immense tidal energy, which now daily goes to
waste, may profitably replace it. I do not think our
coal mines will ever be exhausted. Long before that
point can be reached, mankind will be using a more
economical source of power.
Vast commercial, industrial and social changes will
follow the attainment of the possibilities already indie ted
and will largely occur within the next one hundred
years. Still greater changes, however, will follow
certain other attainments, which, fortunately or unfor-
tunately, will be of later date, and will be reached
gradually. One of the greatest of these, to come with
measured tread, and to he perfected many years hence,
will be the preparation of all food by laboratory manu-
facture. Organic chemistry is steadily moving in this
direction, and, eventually, the nutrition needed will be
exactly adapted to the wants of the body, and will be
furnished on demand. At present we are fed bunglingly.
The processes of digestion are seldom completed.
Bodilv force is dissipated in the disposal of waste and
injurious matter, and the normal energy of each person
is kept very far below its possible or maximum limit.
Of course, all kinds of farming and pastoral life, for
profit and livelihood, will he ultimately abolished, and
the forms of social organizations will be correspondingly
changed.
Side by side with the gradual attainment of this
result will be the mastery over all contagious and in-
fectious diseases, whether their origin be traceable to
poisonous effluvia or microscopic germs. But long
before the abolition of diseases, we may expect the ex-
termination of all ferocious and unnecessary animals,
noxious weeds and insects, and the numerous parasites
which now infest the human body and rob it of much
strength. Moreover, it is apparent that the abolition of
disease, the extermination of all varieties of animal and
vegetable enemies, the possession of a perfectly adapted
and nutritious food, and the accompanying discoveries
which will prevent the ossification of the tissues, or those
equivalent and analogous changes which produce old
age, together with the cessation of that large part ol the
THE OPEN COURT.
33
struggle for existence which is connected with these
important factors, will result in a great prolongation of
human life — not an old age of " labor and sorrow," but a
lengthened maturity of vigor and wholesome enjoyment.
Thus far the possibilities indicated are supposed to
be desirable, or at least not objectionable, and may come
to pass without the necessity of any serious revolution
in human nature. And if all men were thoroughly
moral, and were disposed to exercise whatever power
they might possess for the good of their fellow men, no
.one need wish for any limit to their future greatness.
But, unfortunately, of some men it mav be said that they
are thoroughly immoral, and many others, if not im-
moral, are certainly weak or stupid. The great bulk of
men have not that intellectual and moral development
which would allow them to possess power with safety
to themselves and others. No right-minded person, for
instance, would wish to give to the brutalized Russian
serfs dynamite enough to blow up the Ural mountains.
They might use it, instead, to annihilate the German
Empire. But we must face the fact that this supposed
power in the hands of the ignorant serf may at some
time in the future, and perhaps very soon, become the
real power of every man, good, bad or indifferent.
The discovery of our ability to store or box electricity is
a terrible fact, when we consider its possible conse-
quences. As yet only a few are masters of the secret;
but it will become a common property, and is susceptible
of astounding modifications. To-morrow, any man,
good or bad, may have in his pocket, or in his pipe, power
enough, and subject only to his will, to annihilate whole
communities. That the ordinary man of the world
will be forced to assume this awful responsibility, it
seems to me no one can doubt. Will he, before that
time comes, cease to be the same man with whom we
are now most intimately acquainted ? Give to our
present biped acquaintance the ability to exterminate
armies with a lightning flash, added to the power of
sailing at will through the air, or of passing at will and
in safety beneath the ocean waves, and he would de-
populate the earth.
If the human race is to be preserved, the progress of
scientific invention and discovery will make necessary
the complete extinction of all immoral and weak men.
This may be effected by natural causes or by social
decree. I mention these two methods because I believe
that our rapidly-developing civilization can be assimi-
lated only by certain progressive races, and by the best
portion of these races. It is a well-ascertained fact that
few savage races, if any, can endure civilization. They
are blighted by its glare, and, in close contact with it,
perish in a few generations. This process will continue
more rapidly hereafter. There is no hope of an earthly
immortality for the great mass of mankind, and,
among the progressive and enlightened races, self-pres-
ervation will necessitate the extinction of vice and crime
of all kinds, as well as the cessation of all war. Social
convulsions of the most gigantic kind may first inter-
vene, but I have no doubt that ultimately power will
remain in the hands of those who are most worthy to
use it. In the nature of things nothing else is possible.
When the storms have blown over, the survivors of
mankind will possess powers almost divine. Bodily
energy and brain force will be wonderfully developed.
Men will perceive more clearly, learn more readily,
think more accurately than they do now. Problems,
now difficult, will almost solve themselves. All mere
schooling will become exceedingly rapid. Difficulties
■which now vex the ablest, will be readily disentangled
by immature minds.
And perhaps, even, at last, men may be able —
say one thousand years from now — to evolve a religious
and philosophical creed which shall contain imperisha-
ble germs.
THE HARMONY OF THE SPHERES.
BY PAUL CARUS, PH.D.
Some months ago a pamphlet was published by
Dr. B. M. Lersch, Ueber die Syinmetrischen Verhaelt-
nisse dcs Plancten Systems, (On the Symmetrical Pro-
portions of the Planetary System), which is of more
than ordinary interest, since it is the conclusion of a
series of scientific aspirations, thus affording an unusual
gratification to the human mind. Its subject is the
arrangement of the planets in our solar system, and its
result is the discover}' of the law which governs the
revolutions of the celestial bodies — a law revealing the
simplicity which underlies the most complicated phenom-
ena and furnishes evidence of the harmonious grandeur
of the creation.
Even in the Pythagorean era the harmony of the
spheres was recognized and taught as the rythmical
sounds produced by the proportionate motion of the
celestial bodies; and although the idea was rejected by
Aristotle, who considered it an ingenious but erroneous
hypothesis, it has been 'transmitted to us, not because
accepted by the people of later ages — who rather agreed
with Aristotle's view — but for the reason that the idea
was too striking to be easily forgotten.
The fact that we do not hear the music of the skies
does not disprove it; because, as Pythagoras said, we are
accustomed to it from our infancy, and modern physi-
cists, who cannot, on the ground of their scientific
theories, object to the possibility of sound produced by
the motion of heavenly bodies in ether, may say that
at least the human ear is incapable of perceiving sounds
with such long intervals of undulation.
Interesting though it may be, the question whether
the orbits of the stars resound with music will not be
34
THE OPEN COURT.
included in this discussion, which shall be strictly con-
fined to the consideration of whether the planets, in
their circuits, are harmoniously arranged. However
romantic this idea seems to be, it is, nevertheless, more
than simple poetry and it contains the germ of a cosmic
truth.
Pythagoras' doctrine of the harmony of spheres
rests on the theory that number is the essence of tlii)igs.
Modern chemistry shows the importance of the numer-
ical proportions in the elements of the different sub-
stances; and more marvelous still, as we learn from the
Law of Multiples, the different chemical combinations
take place according to geometrical principles.
Of all geometrical proportions that of the extreme
and mean ratio is at the same time the most simple and
comprehensive in its application. Euclid understood
it and the subject is treated in his 30th proposition of
the 6th book. Owing to its many remarkable corolla-
ries, the ancients called it proportia divina; it is
known in Germany as the golden cut.
It depends on the division of a line into two unequal
parts, in such proportion that the smaller segment is to
the larger as the latter is to the whole. The rectangle
constructed with the smaller part and the whole is equal
to the square of the larger. Again, if a right-angled
triang e be erected upon the whole line, with its right
angle situated in the perpendicular line drawn from the
point of division, then the smaller of the sides contain-
ing the right angle is equal to th arger portion of the
line which is thus divided in the mean and extreme ratio.
A C
I 1
AC : C B = B C
B
1! A.
a
a . ( a + b )
a
b
1
V s
1
1
a + b
1
1
1
1
1
bl
a .: b = b : (a + b )
i-
a. (a + b )=b 2
02
\a
U-
A C B
AC : C B = B C : B A.
A D = C B
These and other corollaries are of great interest to
mathematicians, and whoever understands something of
the seductive harmony of geometry must be impressed
with its grandeur and beauty, as other people are by the
harmony of music or beauty of form, which, we must
remember, is merely applied mathematics.
The harmony of the universe which, in addition to
other evidences, favors the truth of that philosophic
view which I call A/onism, is in its ultimate principles
based on mathematics and can be proved from geomet-
rical axioms.
Johannes Kepler, the first strong adherent and most
powerful defender of the Copernican system, held, if, as
Pythagoras taught, our planets in their circuits round
the sun move in rythmical distances, a planet should
exist between Mars and Jupiter. He considered, the
space between their orbits was too great to correspond
with the intervals between the other planets, which
revolve around the sun in distances regularly increasing.
This suppositional planet could not be found, but
Kepler indicated the region in the skies in which it
should be situated.
Two centuries afterward Kepler's idea was verified ;
for, although the missing planet was not found, a larger
number of smaller ones, generally called asteroids or
planetoids, were discovered to be in this area. They
amount to about 300 in number and are either a failure
of a planetary formation or the ruins of a larger body
which, by some unknown agency, was shattered into
many fragments.
This discovery, based upon the theory of celestial
harmony, revived the interest in the law of proportion
regulating the intervals between the orbits of the
heavenly bodies.
Professor Titus, of Wittemberg, was the first
astronomer who hazarded and established a formula of
the distances between the planets. He said that in round
numbers the distance from the sun to the first planet,
Mercury, was S,ooo,ooo geographical miles (each geo-
graphical mile equaling 4.66 English miles); to the
second, Venus, S-\-6 million miles; to the third, our
Earth, 8+ (6x2); then to Mars, 8+ (6x4); to the Aster-
oids, 8-)- (6x8); to Jupiter, 8+ (6x 16); to Saturn, 8-f-
(6x 32) and to Uranus 8-f- (6x 64) million miles — a mixt-
ure of an arithmetical and geometrical series, as math-
ematicians would style it.
Facts agreed pretty well with this theory, although
there are trifling differences, and Titus'' series, as it was
called, served for a long time as an excellent aid for re-
membering the distances of the planets in round numbers.
But when, in 1S46, Gal/e, at that time director of the
Observatory in Breslau, discovered the most remote
planet, Neptune, and calculated that its distance from
the sun is about 600,000,000 miles, while, according to
Titus, it should be over 700,000,000, the reliability of
THE OPEN COURT.
35
this series was destroyed and, consequently, it is now
regarded by astronomers as a mere curiosity.
Notwithstanding this failure, the aspiration of find-
ing the law of the rhythm of our solar system was not
abandoned. Professor A. Troska,* ceasing to regard
distances as the proper clue to the solution of the ques-
tion, ventured on a new explanation, which he pub-
lished in 1S75.
His theory is that twice the time of one planet's rev-
olution is equal to the sum of the revolutions of its two
neighbors. Thus, twice the period of the circuit of
Venus, which is 450 days, is approximately equal to the
revolution of Mercury, its interior neighbor, and that of
the Earth, its exterior, for Mercury revolves in 87 and
our Earth in 365 days, which make 452. Again, by
doubling this number (452 X 2 = 904), we have the sum
of the revolutions of Venus (225) ami Mars (6S6),
which together are 91 1 days.
Again, this number doubled (=1822), is about equal
to the addition of the revolutions of Earth (365) and
one of the Asteroids (1,500), together 1,865 da)'s-
This proportion is also applicable to the orbits of the
exterior planets. The sum total of the periods in which
Saturn and Neptune complete their circuits is 10,759-)-
60,186 = 71,045, which is nearly equal to twice the rev-
olution of Uranus, that is, 61,374 (the exact period being
30,687).
When we consider the entire series of the planets,
"the law of duplication" is still sustained; for the sum
of the days of revolution of Mercury (1), Earth (3),
one medium Asteroid (5), Saturn (7) and Neptune (9),
occupy nearly twice the period necessary for the revolu-
tions of the interposed planets — Venus ( 2 ), Mars (4),
Jupiter (6) and Uranus (8).
Mercury S7.97 days
Earth 365-26
Asteroids ii5°o.
Saturn 10,759.22
Neptune 60,125.
Venus 224.70 days
Mars 6S6.9S "
Jupiter 4.33-59 "
Uranus 30,686.82 "
3S.928.
x 2
days
72,836. days 71,836. days
Showing the slight difference of about ,*, of the total.
Professor Troska admitted that this ratio is only
approximately 1:2; if calculated with more accuracy,
it is 1 : 2.03.
Other investigators have approached the problem
from a different standpoint and in the year 1S54 an
exceedingly interesting work was published by Pro-
fessor A. Zeising, who recognized that nature mani-
fested a wonderful tendency to construct according to
the proportion of the extreme and mean ratio. We
constantly detect the application of this law; it controls
the shape of many crystals and flowers, the construc-
tion of animals and particularly of the human form.
Wherever a constant proportion exists, it generally
depends upon that ratio which is termed the golden cut •
and it is with awe and amazement that we thus recog-
nize the mathematical harmony of the world.
It is additionally interesting to discover that artists
in their creations unconsciously apply the same remark-
able principle. In architecture, as well as in statuary
and in painting, as Zeising showed in the above men-
tioned book, the proportio divina is repeatedly intro-
duced, as in the Sixtina Madonna, by Raphael, and other
masterpieces.
Professor Pfeiffer, of Dillingen, lately enlarged
Zeising's doctrine and, among other additional observa-
tions, he corroborated the importance of this proportion
in the planetary system. The apparent lack of regu-
larity in Professor Troska's series subsequently induced
other scientists to re-investigate the question and thus
led to its final solution.
A mathematician, Dr. M. B. Lersch calculated the
periods of revolution when bodies revolve in distances
of the extreme and mean ratio, which is 1 : 1.6 1. Basin"-
his calculation on the famous law, which is established
by Kepler, that the squares of revolution are propor-
tionate to the cubes of the mean distance, he discovered
that if two planets move at distances of 1: 1. 61, they
must revolve in periods which are as 1 : 2.03. This
number, however, agrees better than Professor Troska's
"law of duplication " with facts and concurs strictly
with the ratio of the periods in which the planets
revolve. From this we may fairly infer that the Divine
proportion is the regulative law of the circuits of
heavenly bodies.
In consequence of this consideration, we cannot deny
that the revolutions of the fixed stars may follow the
same principle; we must recognize it as a universal law
which governs the movements of the ponderous masses
of suns as well as the formation of the tiny limbs of the
smallest insects.
Thus the harmony of the cosmic laws mav be recog-
nized as an established fact; and the most advanced
scientists of to-day, like Pythagoras of yore, look for
explanations of the problems" of nature in the mysteries
of number or proportion.
There is unity in the structure of the universe and
there is unison in the laws of nature. If the scientist
presupposes such harmony to exist universally in the
domain of his investigation, he will never err, because,
as Plato said, the Laws of Nature arc geometrical
thoughts of God.
*I am indebted to Professor Troska for the facts here mentioned, through
an item from his pen in Was Ihr Wollt, Leipzig, 1S86.
Conscience does not come from natural or hereditary
good, but from the doctrine of truth and good, and a
life according thereto. — A. C. 620S.
36
THE OEEN COURT.
A THEOLOGICAL PARADOX.
BY MINOT J. SAVAGE.
That a house should seem to stand and the people
continue to live in it as though nothing had happened,
and this after all of its foundations had been removed —
this is the paradox which I have in mind. Ami it is
one of so striking a nature that one will hardly find it
true in any other domain except that of theology. So
remarkable a sight as this is worth looking at. Let us,
therefore, consider it a little and see what lessons it may
have for us.
The theological structure which orthodox Chris-
tianity has erected is clear-cut in outline, bound part to
part, and thoroughly consistent with itself. As now we
examine a few of the main features of the "plan of sal-
vation," all this will appear.
ist. This world — a province of God's universal
kingdom — is in a state of rebellion. Every man, woman
and child is born into this rebellious condition. The state
of nature is one of alienation from God and all good. No
matter Low good a man may be, in the ordinary sense
of the word, he is a rebel; and this fact taints all that he
is or does. And until he "throws down the arms of his
rebellion," no natural virtues can at all avail to put him
in right relations to God.
This is perfectly reasonable on this governmental
theory of the world. Sir Harry Vane's virtues did not
make him any the less a traitor to the king. So it is
rational and logical for Mr. Moody to say: "Morality
don't touch the question of salvation." Of course not,
on the basis of this supposed theory and the supposed
facts.
2d. God, against whom this causeless and wicked
rebellion has been raised, has a perfect right to choose
as to what terms he will require as the condition of for-
giveness. Man, who deserves only death, has nothing
to say on this subject.
3d. In order to maintain the majesty of his govern-
ment and the inviolability of his laws, God is under the
necessity of making Mich a public example of his hatred
of sin, as well as of his love, as will justify in the eyes
of his intelligent creation his extending a free pardon
to rebellious man. To this end the second person of the
Trinity takes on human nature and suffers the penalty of
the 1 roken law. This secure., the double end of vin-
dicating God's justice and displaying his forgiving love.
4th. Now he is free to pardon all those who accept
this offering as made on their behalf. And they have
no right to complain if pardon is refused on any other
terms.
5th. On this theory the Church is made up of those
who have accepted these terms. Such persons become
the nucleus of a growing army of loyalists. It is their
business to fight against whatever tends to continue this
rebellion and to do all they can to induce God's enemies
to la'- down their arms.
6th. Those who become loyal are the willing sub-
jects of God's kingdom and so entitled to share God's
final victory and the blessings of his heaven. Those
who remain rebellious are followers and friends of Satan,
the leader of God's enemies, and must expect to share
his ultimate defeat and the pains and penalties of his
prison-house.
This is the general scheme of things on which all
the activities of the Orthodox Church are based.
Now, everybody knows that the entire foundation
of this whole theological structure is the storv of the
Garden of Eden and the fall of man. If man has not
fallen, then this world is not a rebellious province of
God's great kingdom. If man is not fallen, all the
talk about providing terms or conditions of forgive-
ness is uncalled for. If man is not fallen, there is
no need of the stupendous miracle of an incarnate and
crucified God. If man is not fallen, the radical dis-
tinction between the Church and the world ' reaks down.
If man is not fallen, the popular dreams of heaven and
hell are only dreams and do not accurately represent the
future destiny of man and woman.
How stands this question then? Plainly, thus: In
no civilized country to-day is there a bo}- or girl of four-
teen years of age who has not the means of knowing
that the story of the fall of man has no more reasonable-
basis of belief than have the stories of Hercules. Not
only has it no rational support, it is beyond question
disproved. That is, another story as to man's origin
and nature is so thoroughly established that, but for
theological bias, no intelligent person could be found who
would think for one moment of questioning it.
Even the Biblical support for the story of the Fall
is almost wholly confined to the theological discussions
of one man, Paul. T1t older and greater prophets
say nothing about it. It appears in the Old Testament
only after the contact of the Jews with the Persians, at
the time of the captivity. For all competent scholars
know that the early parts of Genesis, containing the
story, were not composed until the time of or after the
captivity. This, then, is a Pagan, Persian legend, and
only that. It is a Pagan way of trying to account for
the sorrows and evils of life. According to the ortho-
dox theory, Jesus was God coming to earth to save man
from the results of the Fall. And yet, curiously enough,
he does not seem to know anything about it.
But even though the Bible were full of it, from
beginning to end, still we know, on other grounds, that
it is not true. A belief in the Ascent of man has taken
the place of a belief in his Fall in the minds of all free
and competent students.
Of course, it is to be expected that all those who still
believe the story of the Fall should keep on in their
THE OPEN COURT.
37
endeavors to "save" people after the old methods. But
now comes the wonder of our theological paradox.
Those who si ill believe this story are not nearly enough
to continue the activities of the Churches on their present
basis. Thousands of persons who do not believe it at all
anv longer still help to continue all these old activities
just as though nothing had happened. Many among
those who do this are ministers; that is, they have
seen the entire foundation of their theological house
taken out and yet go on living in it, and asking others
to come into it for safetv, as though they believed it still
founded on the everlasting rock. And yet it ought to
be plain, to even the feeblest intellect, that if this race
of ours is not a "fallen" one, then — whatever else it
may need — it does not need to be "saved from the effects
of the Fall."
Let us now note two or three great evils that result
from this paradoxical condition of affairs.
ist. It is kept up at a terrible cost of the sincerity of
those who are even "silent partners" to what must here-
after be only a pretense, though ever so "pious" a one.
2d. Only less serious than this is another evil. If a
physician thinks a patient is ill of a certain disease, of
course he will treat him for that. But should he find
out that the disease was of entirely another character,
what would he do? And what would people be justi-
fied in saying if he should keep on doctoring him for
the first supposed disease? If the human race has
fallen, and the old theory about it is true, then, of
course, a certain method of treatment is rational and
helpful. But if it has not, and the old theory is not
true, then the old treatment is not only injurious, but it
stands square in the way of such a course of medicine as
might put the patient on his feet. Consider, therefore,
the waste of time, of money, of thought, of devotion
and enthusiasm that has been going on for a thousand
vears. That the world has gradually been improving
is no justification of these theories. For, in the first
place, it has improved more rapidly by as much as these
old beliefs have become less and less influential. And, in
the second place, patients often improve in spite of, and not
because of, their doctors. And, in the third place, dur-
ing the periods of the most rapid improvement, a
thousand other agencies have been at work, through the
activity of thousands who had rejected the old beliefs.
If only all the intelligence, the time and the money
of the civilized world (which are now wasted on the old
methods) could be directed to finding and curing the
real evils of the world, the long-dreamed-of "kingdom
of God " (the real kingdom of man) might be brought
to pass in a single century. In the nature of things
there is no reason why this old world should not become
a garden, filled with intelligent and happy peoples.
In giving up the dreams and legends of the past,
nothing is lost but illusions; and what is found is "the
truth that" — in old theological phrase — "is able to
make men wise unto salvation." And this salvation is
from the real evils that destroy human happiness and
human life, and not from shadows.
MONISM IN MODERN PHILOSOPHY AND THE
AGNOSTIC ATTITUDE OF MIND.
BY EDMUND MONTGOMERY.
Part I!.
And now to Schelling's Monism, which, together
with Hegel's, fruitfully and nobly inspired so many
minds, but, it must be confessed, also deranged not a few.
Drawing strength from Kant, from neo-Platonic tra-
ditions, from the great mystic, Jacob Boehme, from Bruno
and from Spinoza, Schelling worked out a monistic
system of transcendental realism. Transcendental real-
ism it has been called, because it assumes that the object-
ive world is not merely a product of thought, but that it
pre-exists as eternal reality within the source of all
being. When the creative Ego, by force of its pro-
ductive imagination, evolves the world, as Fichte
taught, surely it does not evolve it at random out of
nothing but mere fancy. The process of mental
realization can lie only a bringing into consciousness
of some definite content already subsisting in the
depth of being. On the one side there is the power of
consciously realizing this content; but on the other side
there is the content itself. Both these moments, sub-
ject and object, the ideal and the real, spirit and nature,
are thus identical and constitute together the absolute
reality, which is the all-containing and ail-efficient matrix
of whatever there is in existence. We find, then, two
different propensities operative in the absolute. The
one "positive, real, productive, realizing the infinite in
the finite. The other negative, limiting, ideal, redissolv-
ing the finite into the infinite." The former in it>
manifestations constitutes the realm of nature, the latter
that of intelligence; both together, our known world.
In this kind of world-conception a source of being,
potentially containing everything, is presupposed and
treated as a logical totality, from which any sort of par-
ticular configuration of concepts may be conveniently
deduced. And the interest we may take in such an
interpretation of nature depends thus wholly on the
genius of the propounder and very- little on the actual
truth of nature itself. The logical drift of all systems of
transcendental realism is to conceive the source of being
as unconscious. Hartmann, in our time, has made this
conception the central idea of his system, a Monism of
unconscious, transcendental will, logically evolving the
world.
Hegel, the classical propounder of transcendental
Idealism, is an extreme representative of the anti-natural-
istic mode of interpreting nature. His system is unmiti-
gated Panlogism, a Monism of self-evolving logical
3«
THE OPEN COURT.
reason, of the formal, deductive sort. Thought, with
Hegel, is uncompromisingly identical with being. The
task he proposes is to gain an understanding of the all-
comprehending ground of such being, which ground he
unhesitatingly pronounces to be eternal and absolute
reason and nothing else. To be able to accomplish this
task, we have to place ourselves in an attitude of expect-
ancy and observation, merely noticing and confirming
with our discoursive reason the self-unfolding of the
content of absolute reason. This occurs by dint of a
dialectical process, which begins with the most compre-
hensive concept coming into ken and bringing with it
its equally comprehensive negative. The synthesis of
this thesis and antithesis evolves a less comprehensive
but more concrete concept, which again brings with it
its negative and so on and on, till the most concrete
concepts are reached. The keeping in mind, then, as
much as possible, of the whole series of evolved concepts,
together with the manifold relations they bear to one
another, and unifying the whole in as complete an "idea"
as we can form — in proportion as we succeed in this
our individual reason approaches absolute reason.
Hegelianism has indulged in such absurd abuses of
productive imagination that it is no wonder it became
the laughing stock of natural science. But the idea of
the universal reason progressively evolving itself in the
revealed world, imparted suddenly meaning and order
to the scattered, disconnected and seemingly purposeless
facts of human history. And it is chiefly to this Hegelian
"idea" that we owe the manifold and very successful
attempts to discover in the records of the past the course
of development in human affairs.
Pessimism is, in truth, the consistent practical outcome
of any kind of system, assuming as pre-existent an all-
containing and all-efficient potency, through whose
affections, emanations, manifestations or creations our
known world comes into being. For, according to our
moral standard, the production of something not only
infinitely lower than its producer, but destined, more-
over, to pass through a life full of strife and misery,
must be looked upon as a most grievous and deplorable
misdeed, to be atoned for only by utter inhibition of the
mischievous activity. This sentiment, finding expression
in one form or another, has played a very prominent
part in religious life. Its awful implications seized hold
of and goaded almost to misanthropic madness the
impetuously emotional mind of Schopenhauer.
Deep down at the root of our being, where Kant
had shown that our innermost nature, the intelligible, or,
far more truly, the volitional Ego, issues with its power
of free causation into manifest existence, morally to con-
trol and to overcome the baneful enchainment of natural
events, into whose torturing meshes its own pernicious
cupidity had entangled itself; there, at the root of our own
and of all being, the blissful peace of eternal tranquillity
was ruthlessly broken and convulsed by that enormous
guilt that brought in its train a world of endless suffering
— the life-creating, malefic guilt that, with blind and friv-
olous desire, followed the treacherous allurements of
temporal existence.
This is the central idea of the Monisn of Will, the
philosophical enunciation of which filled the life of that
strange human being, who fretted through his allotted
span of time under the name of Arthur Schopenhauer.
Hume was the first to draw prominent attention to
one of the most significant of all contrasts, the one,
namely, obtaining between the logical nexus connecting
ideas, and the causal nexus connecting matters of fact.
The former is purely analytical, the latter altogether
synthetical. Kant made this all-important distinction
the pivot of his entire philosophy. Before him all
thinkers had proceeded according to the logical, analyti-
cal method. They endeavored to evolve the particu-
lars of knowledge from a pre-existing, all-including
totality. Kant set about constructing knowledge from
the scattered and unconnected particulars given to sense
by dint of definite combining powers, with which our
mind finds itself endowed.
Kant, in spite of most strenuous efforts, could not
see his way to a monistic system on this basis, for — and
this is the emphatic conclusion of his entire theoretical
philosophy — the combining faculties of our mind refuse
to work on any kind of material which is not given
through the senses. How this sense-material is actually
given remains to Kant as enigmatical as to the philos-
ophers of the seventeenth century, only their world of
extended material things outside the mind has become
to Kant a world of unknown things-in-themselves, and
this through the discovery of the mental constitution of
sensible qualities and of time and space.
Now, on the strength of Kant's assumption of a syn-
thetical power of a purely mental or spiritual nature,
our neo-Kantians, probably at present the most influen-
tial school of thinkers, are teaching a spiritual Monism,
which generally goes by the name of Transcendental
Idealism, but which is distinguished from Hegel's
Transcendental Idealism by being synthetical instead of
analytical. They simply deny that any sense-material
is given from outside. All our conscious states, even
the most elementary, are already through and through
synthetical products, and form in every respect inte-
grant parts of one and the same unitary consciousness.
And, as the combining and conscious power is of a
mental or spiritual nature, it follows that the entire con-
tent of consciousness must necessarily be a product of
that synthetizing power. Thought is then identical
with being.
Truth or knowledge is the rethinking on our part
of the eternal thought of the universal intelligence. And
as thought is identical with being, it is clear that so far
THE OPEN COURT.
o9
as our thought has become identical with the divine
thought, we have ourselves become divine beings.
This monistic system is incontestable, as soon as we
admit that the only synthetizing power in the world is
intelligence. But it is obvious enough that intelligence,
as such, has not the very slightest power to originate
and to endow with efficiency the forces that make up
our real world.
Mr. Herbert Spencer, under the inspiration of the
two great generalizations of our scientific era, the inter-
convertibility of forces and the evolution-hypothesis, has
worked out with most comprehensive grasp, profound
penetration and exquisitely subtle thought that great sys-
tem of " Synthetic Philosophy," which we all so highly
admire. Following with genuine philosophical zest the
monistic bent, he has also attempted to crown the whole
majestic structure by an all-comprehensive outlook,
showing how the infinite variety of physical and mental
phenomena forming our manifest world all issue from
one single absolute power. According to this concep-
tion, all physical occurrences, as well as all mental states,
are but so many different modes of this one Absolute.
Now, it is evident to Mr. Spencer himself that the
only immediate knowledge we have of the physical
world consists in mental states of our own. ff, then,
as Mr. Spencer teaches, these mental states are them-
selves really modes of the eternal power, on which they
would then entirely depend, there is not the slightest
reason why we should assume, moreover, another sec-
ond source of dependence outside that power. We
would then see all things directly in and through the
only and infinite source of existence — this being
exactly what Father Malebranche once taught. Our
mental states, in all their diversity and complexity,
including every kind of awareness of our own exist-
ence and nature, body and all, would then be nothing but
passively-received flashes of revelation, coming to us
from the impenetrable depth of the all-efficient but
unknowable energy.
This is one of the ways of showing the utter unten-
ability of Mr. Spencer's Monism of the Unknowable.
There are other ways, which we will, however, not at
present follow.
The truth is, our conscious states are in no wise
modes of any infinite and eternal power, whether
knowable or unknowable. They are simply that
which science proves them to be, namely, very definite
functions of a most specific organ — an organ minutely
and accurately known by us in a symbolical manner
within our own perception, but whose intimate nature
as a thing-in-itself remains, thus far, entirely unknown.
This is evidently the actual state of things. Why
should we want to make it appear otherwise?
Professor Bain has likewise sought to establish a
monistic view of matter and mind, and this within the
limits of the subjective idealism of the association-phi-
losophy; a system of thought which, in its entire scope,
he has elaborated with consummate psychological tact,
extensive knowledge and admirable accuracy of obser-
vation and statement. With him matter and mind are
only different expressions for objective and subjective
consciousness, the former having extension, the latter
being extensionless. The same being or substance is
"by alternate fits object and subject," experiencing at
one time extended, at another time unextended con-
sciousness. We have, then, " one substance with two
sets of properties, the physical and the mental — a double-
faced unit) ."
As this two-sided monistic manifestation of many
things and feelings takes place altogether within our
own individual consciousness, we are naturally some-
what curious to know whether there are other double-
faced beings in existence besides ourselves; also
whether there are things outside our consciousness
corresponding to its material perceptions. And, if so,
we wish to gain some little insight how all these double
and single-faced substances come in reality to be inter-
dependent parts of one and the same world. Perhaps
some one some day will inform us.
Materialism is ill adapted for monistic purposes. Its
presupposition has to be dualistic. It must start either
with ultimate elements of matter and force, or with
ultimate quantities of mass and motion. When it
transcends its realism, it becomes something quite differ-
ent, something that generally goes by the name of
Dynamism. We have, then, in existence only the recip-
rocal play of immaterial forces, usually conceived as a
plenum of energies, irradiating from centers of power.
On such a foundation, Priestley already sought to estab-
lish a monistic view of body and mind, and this by means
of the very simple device of making mental efficiencies
form part of the forces, that in their interaction consti-
tute the world. Many thinkers have followed his
example, and, of course, one cannot be much astonished
to find individual power-complexes display mental prop-
erties when one has oneself introduced these very prop-
erties into their constituent elements.
The Brooklyn Citizen, after examining the official
reports of the standing of the Roman Catholic church
in this country, published in Sadlier^s Catholic Direct-
ory for 1887, says:
Boston, the metropolitan see, to which the other two dioceses
of Massachusetts are suffragan, has 400,000 Catholics. Truly is
" the Boston of Collins and O'Brien " not " the city of Winthrops
and the Puritans." Last year there were born there over eleven
thousand children, and of this number over seven thousand were
Catholics. " A steady annual growth of seven in eleven," says
the Boston Pilot, "independent of the gain by immigration, will,
in the course of one generation, make Boston the most distinctly
Catholic city in the world."
4°
THE OPEN COURT.
The Open Court.
A Fortnightly Journal.
Published every other Thursday at 169 to 175 La Salle Street (Nixon
Building', corner Monroe Street, by
THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY.
B. F. UNDERWOOD,
Editor and Manager.
SARA A. UNDERWOOD,
Associate Editor.
The leading object of The Open Court is to continue
the work of The Index, that is, to establish religion on the
basis of Science and in connection therewith it will present the
Monistic philosophy. The founder of this journal believes this
will furnish to others what it has to him, a religion which
embraces all that is true and good in the religion that was taught
in childhood to them and him.
Editorially, Monism and Agnosticism, so variously defined,
will be treated not as antagonistic systems, but as positive and
negative aspects of the one and only rational scientific philosophy,
which, the editors hold, includes elements of truth common to
all religions, without implying either the validity of theological
assumption, or any limitations of possible knowledge, except such
as the conditions of human thought impose.
The Open Court, while advocating morals and rational
religious thought on the firm basis of Science, will aim to substi-
tute for unquestioning credulity intelligent inquiry, for blind faith
rational religious views, for unreasoning bigotry a liberal spirit,
for sectarianism a broad and generous humanitarianism. With
this end in view, this journal will submit all opinion to the crucial
test of reason, encouraging the independent discussion by able
thinkers of the great moral, religious, social and philosophical
problems which are engaging the attention of thoughtful minds
and upon the solution of which depend largely the highest inter-
ests of mankind.
While Contributors are expected to express freely their own
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Terms of subscription three dollars per year in advance,
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All communications intended for and all business letters
relating to The Open Court should be addressed to B. F.
Underwood, P. O. Drawer F, Chicago, Illinois, to whom should
be made payable checks, postal orders and express orders.
THURSDAY, MARCH 3, 18S7.
DARWIN AND HIS WORK.
Charles Darwin, the great naturalist, died on
Wednesday, April 19th, 1SS2, at his quiet home at
Down, England. So retired was the life led by him,
that not until two days after his death did the news
reach the London papers, but everywhere, as soon
as the sad fact was announced, then, was a sponta-
neous outburst of loving regret from the people of
every nation where his work was known. Rarely
in the world's history has a man of science been so
wide'' co nized during his lifetime, or so sincerely
mourned at the time of his death. His own country-
men sh ,vi d him all the honor possible, in a national
way, by claiming fur. and awarding him, a place
among their immortals in Westminster Abbey, and
among his coffin-bearers were the great scientists,
Wallace, Hooker, Huxley, Lubbock, and others as
distinguished.
Soon after his death the general desire to show
honor to his memory for his grand work of enlight-
enment found expression in a Darwin fund, to which
came contributions from Austria, Belgium, Brazil,
Denmark, France, Germany, Holland, Italy, Norway,
Portugal, Russia, Spain, Sweden, Switzerland and
the United States, in addition to what was given by
his own nation and its colonies. A part of this large
fund was used in the erection of a commemorative
statue, while the surplus is held in trust by the
Royal Society of Great Britain to be used in the
promotion of biological research.
The statue, when completed, was unveiled in the
great hall of the Natural History Rooms of the
British Museum, on the 9th of June, 1S85, the
addresses being made by Prof. Huxley, in presenta-
tion, and by the Prince of Wales in acceptance for
the Museum. It is recorded that on that occasion
"around the statue were congregated the most repre-
sentative men of every branch of culture, from the
Prince of Wales and the Archbishop of Canterbury to
, the opposite extremes of radicalism and free thought.
Indeed, it is not too much to say that there can
scarcely ever have been an occasion on which so
many illustrious men of opposite ways of think-
ing have met to express a common agreement upon
a man to whom they felt that honor was due."
What were the services which commanded for
this modest, unpretentious student this world-wide
admiration and appreciation? He had, living, made
no claims to superiority of intellect or knowledge; he
was a man of domestic tastes, quiet habits and unas-
suming mode of life. He had never been prominent
on public occasions, was rarely heard at great din-
ner parties; he cared nothing whatever for the world
of fashion, was no authority on art, shone little in
the phosphorescent light of belles-lettres. Huxley
answers our question in his address in behalf of the
Darwin Memorial Committee: "The causes of this
wide outburst of emotion are not far to seek," he
said. "We had lost one of those rare ministers and
interpreters of nature whose names mark epochs in
the advance of natural knowledge. For whatever
be the ultimate verdict of posterity upon this or
that opinion which Mr. Darwin propounded; what-
ever adumbrations or anticipations of his doctrines
may be found in the writings of his predecessors,
the broad fact remains that since the publication,
and by reason of the publication, of 'The Origin of
Species' the fundamental conceptions and the aims
of the students of living nature have been completely
changed. From that work has sprung a great
renewal, a true 'instauratio magna' of the zoological
and botanical sciences. * * * The impulse thus
given to scientific thought rapidly spread beyond the
ordinarily recognized limits of biology. Psychology,
THE OPEN COURT.
41
ethics, cosmology, were stirred to their foundation,
and 'The Origin of Species ' proved itself to be the
fixed point which the general doctrine of evolution
needed to move the world."
Intellectually, Darwin was of royal pedigree and
family. His paternal grandfather, Dr. Erasmus
Darwin, was one of the pioneer teachers of the theory
of evolution long before his illustrious grandson was
born; he was a thinker, philosopher and poet, author
of " Zoonomia," "The Botanic Garden," "The
Temple of Nature," and other works. His great-
grandfather, Robert Darwin, is described in local
records as " a person of curiosity," with " a taste for
literature and science," and " an embryo geologist."
His grand-uncle, Robert Darwin, was the author of a
work on botany of considerable repute. His father,
Robert Waring Darwin, was a physician of eminence
at Shrewsbury and a Fellow of the Royal Society.
His father's brother, Sir Francis Darwin, was noted
as a keen observer of animals. Another uncle,
Charles Darwin, who died at twenty-one, was author of
a valuable medical work. His mother, who died while
he was yet a child, was a daughter of the famous
potter, Josiah Wedgewood, a careful and painstaking
observer. Among his cousins, on the mother's side,
were Hensleigh Wedgewood, the Philologist, Sir
Henry Holland, and Francis Galton,the scientist and
authority on heredity.. His wife was a Miss Wedge-
wood, his cousin, and his sons are eminent in
science.
But not wholly to pedigree or family predilections
is the work and fame of Darwin due. That, in great
part, is owing to rare personal qualifications — to his
unswerving devotion to the study of Nature, to his
phenomenal patience, to his careful observation, to
his unwearied perseverance and continuity of pur-
pose, to his generous recognition of fellow-students,
to his genuine and rare modest}', and to his grandly
simple rectitude of character.
Charles Robert Darwin — the Darwin of the Dar-
wins — was born at Shrewsbury, England, February
12th, 1809. His family were in good circumstances,
and no unpropitious "environments" hindered his
natural bent toward scientific investigation. Family
connections, neighborhood tendencies, and inherited
proclivities combined to make him the fine character
he was.
His scholastic education commenced at Shrews-
bury, where, as a school-boy, " coming events cast
their shadows before," in his delight in collecting
shells, minerals, eggs, coins, etc., showing his bias
toward investigation and classification. At sixteen he
was sent to the University at Edinburgh, where one of
his earliest papers, prepared for an Academical
Society, was on "The Floating Eggs of the Common
Sea-Mat," setting forth his discovery of organs of
locomotion in this low form of marine life.
From 1S27 to 1S31 he was a student at Christ
College, Cambridge, where he was fortunate in having
the companionship and guidance of such thinkers as
Prof. Henslow, Airy, Sidgwick, Ramsay and others.
He was only twenty-two, an age at which most
young men are busy " sowing their wild oats," when
the chance of accompanying Capt. Fitzroy, on the
government ship Beagle, on a voyage of scientific
discovery round the world, was presented to him.
Though he understood that the trip would be of
several years duration, and might be in some respects
dangerous; though his services were to be gratuitous
(with the privilege only of retaining as his own the
specimens collected on the trip), yet he eagerly
accepted the opportunity; and his five years of exile
from home and friends were years of delight to his
soul, and during those years was laid the foundation
of all his noble after-work of discover}' and experi-
ment. His work as a writer began when, after his
return, he contributed three volumes to the series
recording the observations made during the voyage
of the Beagle — " Volcanic Islands," " Geological
Observations on South America," and his valuable
Essay on " Coral Reefs."
Three years after his return, at the age of thirty,
he married a cousin, Miss Emma Wedgewood,
daughter of his uncle Josiah Wedgewood. Within
a few years of his marriage he built his family man-
sion at Down and instituted the beginnings of his
series of practical experiments, the results of which,
when long afterward presented to the public in his
"Origin of Species," were accepted as indisputable
testimony to the truth of what had been until then
held as theory only, but which, when thus fortified,
was accepted by the world at large, as well as by
brother scientists, as incontrovertible and demon-
strated truth.
He gave the best years of his life to these experi-
ments, forsaking for them all public emoluments
and honors, and all other pursuits. "Early to bed
and early to rise; wandering unseen among the lanes
and paths, or riding slowly on his favorite black cob,
the great Naturalist passed forty years happily and
usefully at Down, where all the village knew and
loved him," wrote Grant Allen; yet, every day prob-
ably, in all these years, he was, with deliberation,
with careful exactness and thoughtful judgment,
making experiments of all kinds with plants, insects,
birds and animals; browsing in all the highways and
byways of literature and ferreting out the secrets of
individual experience for facts bearing on the subjects
in mind; trying in every thinkable way to test the
accuracv of his biological surmises. His admiring
42
THE OPEN COURT.
and admirable friend and scientific compeer, Alfred
R. Wallace, says, on this point, that soon after his
return from his memorable Beagle voyage "he had
already perceived that no explanation but some form
of the derivation or development hypothesis, as it
was then termed, would adequately explain the
remarkable facts of distribution and geological suc-
cession which he had observed during his voyage,
yet he tells us that he worked on for five years before
he allowed himself to speculate on the subject, and
then, having formulated his provisional hypothesis in
a definite shape during the next two years, he
devoted fifteen years or more to continuous observa-
tion, experiment and literary research, before he
gave to the astonished scientific world an abstract of
his theory in all its wide-embracing scope and vast
array of evidence in his epoch-making volume, "The
Origin of Species." If we add to the period enume-
rated above, the five years of observation and study
during the voyage, we find that this work was the
outcome of twenty-nine years of continuous thought
and labor by one of the most patient, most truth-
loving and most acute intellects of our age."
Alfred Russell Wallace, with a modesty charac-
teristic of both himself and Darwin, omits to state, in
the sketch from which the foregoing paragraph is
taken, that the publication of the "Origin of Species"
was hastened because of a striking memoir which he
(then absent on a voyage of tropical discovery) had
sent on to Darwin in 1S58, with a request that he for-
ward it to Sir Charles Lyell for presentation to the
Linnean Society. To Darwin's surprise he found, on
reading it, that it contained his own theory of natural
selection, not worked out in detail as he himself was
working it out, but still complete in spirit and
essence. Sir Charles Lyell and Sir Joseph Hooker,
who were aware of Darwin's own unpublished work,
both urged him to publish a few extracts from that
work in the same journal in which Wallace's paper
was to appear, and the two contributions were read
together before the Linnean Society, July 1, 1858.
"That double communication" says Grant Allen,
"marks the date of the birth of modern evolution-
ism." Darwin decided that it was time to give to
the world some of the results of his experiments
with his conclusions in regard to them and "The
Origin of Species" was published in November of
the following year, 1859. Says the writer last quoted
from, "that book was one of the greatest, the most
learned, the most lucid, the most logical, the most
crushing, the most conclusive that the world has ever
yet seen. Step by step, and principle by principle,
it proved every point in its progress triumphantly
before it went on to demonstrate the next."
The work excited immediate attention and
aroused hot discussion, and in less than six weeks
after its publication was in such demand that it had
become famous and a second edition was called for
and put upon the market. Darwin was over fifty
when " The Origin of Species " was published. It was
to have been one of a long series which he contem-
plated, but ill health prevented him from finishing that
series to his own satisfaction before his death, at the
age of seventy-three, though doubtless the most im-
portant ones were given to the public, since other scien-
tists, by their work in the same direction, filled up the
gap thus left. In spite of his constant work and
study Darwin was for a great part of his life a semi-
invalid, but he made every moment of available time
of purpose to science. Among the works published
by him were "The Descent of Man," which awoke
still further opposition and discussion from orthodox
thinkers, though the battle had been in effect won
by the earlier work, " The Variation of Animals and
Plants Under Domestication," " Emotional Expres-
sions of Man and the Lower Animals," " Insectivo-
rous Plants," " Fertilization of Orchids," " Move
ment and Habits of Climbing Plants," " The Effect
of Cross and Self Fertilization," " Power of Move-
ment in Plants," and "The Formation of Vegetable
Mould Through the Action of Worms." In regard
to this last work it may be noted as an instance of
his remarkably painstaking experimenting, that
having early had his attention called to the subject,
from a suggestion from his father-in-law, Josiah
Wedgewood, soon after he built his family man-
sion at Down, in 1842, he began to spread broken
chalk over a certain field, which he let remain undis-
turbed to the action of earth-worms until 1S71, when
a trench was dug to test the results, an experiment
taking twenty-nine years!
His experiments were never absent from his
thoughts. In his garden and his conservatory some
of these were ever in progress. Col. Higginson tells
us how, on a certain visit to Darwin, when he
remained over night, he happened to look out of his
window very early in the morning and " seeing him
hurrying in from the remoter part of the green gar-
den with a great shawl wrapped around his head, his
white hair and beard emerging from it — a singularly
unconscious, absorbed, eager figure. I asked his son
afterward what his father was out there at that time
in the morning for in his impaired condition of
health? ' O, yes,' said his son, 'he is always at it.
He always says he is not doing anything at all. But
he always has one of his little experiments, as he
calls them, going on out there in the garden, and he
has to look at them two or three times every night.' "
Every one who ever met the great Naturalist —
lofty and noble in figure, as in mind — bears testimony
THE OPKN COURT.
43
to his lovable qualities. " To that charming candor
anil delightful unostentatiousness which everybody
must have noticed in his published writings," says
Mr. Allen, ''he united, in private life, a kindliness of
disposition, a width of sympathy, and a ready gen-
erosity which made him as much beloved by his
friends as he was admired and respected by all
Europe." No one was so much surprised at the
honors shown him as himself. John Fiske says:
"When I first met Mr. Darwin in London, in 1873, he
told me that he was surprised at the great fame
which his book instantly won, and at the quickness
with which it carried conviction to the minds of all
the men on whose opinions he set the most value."
He mingled little in general society, but enjoyed
the personal acquaintance and friendship of most of
the leading scientific men of Europe and this coun-
try. Two or three years of his earlier married life
were spent in London, and we read of him at this
period in the Carlyle reminiscences as dropping in
of an evening for a friendly chat with Mrs. Carlyle,
or of her taking a drive with him to see his new house
at Down, and again of Carlyle being absent " at
dinner at Darwins," etc. He was not at all a self-
assertive, self-conscious man or Scientist, but only a
sincere lover of science, and an ardent investigator
of the ever-tempting, tantalizing and beckoning
promises of revealment of the wonderful mysteries
of the Universe. His grandfather's words in his
poem, "The Temple of Nature," might have been his
own invocation.
" Priestess of Nature! while with pious awe
Thy votary bends, the mystic veil withdraw;
Charm after charm, succession bright, display,
And give the goddess to adoring day! "
S. A. U.
SCIENCE vs. THEOLOGY.
Science emphasizes the importance of investigation.
It says investigate and then believe or disbelieve accord-
ing to the weight of evidence. Theology says, believe
first and then investigate if you choose, but be careful
that investigation does not weaken your faith. Science
teaches that doubt is necessary to inquiry and that
inquiry is necessary to intellectual progress. Theology,
by condemning doubt, discourages impartial search for
truth and, at the same time, courage and independence
of thought. The faith of the man of science is convic-
tion founded upon evidence. Theological faith does not
admit of proof or verification. The authorities of
science are those who have made their subjects matters
of years of laborious study ; yet an appeal from their
statements is always open to any one who can show their
error or inadequacy. The authorities of theology are
ancient characters who are held in veneration on account
of their alleged inspiration, and appeal from whose
declaration is pronounced sinful and perilous.
The object of science is Nature — the world of phe-
nomena, whose ongoings are open to our observation
and contemplation. The object of theology is the
supposed attributes, plans and purposes of the unknown
cause of phenomena. Science is knowledge classified
and methodized. For convenience we label a certain
class of facts astronomy, geology, chemistrv, biology,
etc., but all these sciences are but segments of a circle,
parts of one great science — the science of the universe.
All the sciences being related, there can be no complete
knowledge of any without thorough knowledge of all.
When we go beyond the region of observation and
experience, and beyond the possibility of data for our
beliefs, we pass from the region of science to that of
theology. Theolog\' begins where knowledge ends.
The empire of science is continually enlarging, while that
of theology is yielding its territory just as fast as the
complex groups of phenomena in which it entrenches
itself are shown by scientific discoveries to belong to
the region of law and causation. Miracles, like ghosts,
vanish as the light approaches. Theologj' is retreating
from field to field, and is now pleading for the right to
recognition as the science of that which is beyond phe-
nomena— the light that never was on land or sea. The
various conceptions of the eternal mystery in regard to
which theology dogmatizes are but so many mirrors from
which men see reflected their own mental and moral
faces. Man projects ideally his own intelligence and
volition out upon the field of phenomena and imagines that
he is studying the plans and purposes of God, when he
is unconsciously studying his own nature. This illusion
is the foundation of theology which, carefully analyzed,
reveals not the plans and purposes of Infinite Intelli-
gence, but the conceptions and feelings of man, formu-
lated into dogmas and made realizable to the ignorant
by ritualisms which appeal to eye and ear. The
key to theology is anthropology, because the actual
object of theology is a conceptual being entirely human
in its intellectual and moral characteristics. The exist-
ence of that power in which we move and live, which
rounds a pebble and forms a planet, which germinates
a seed and evolves an animal, even the wonderful
structure and yet more wonderful mind of man, is indubi-
table, though one declines to limit it by definitions or to
give it human attributes.
Science shows that the present order of things is the
product of the modification of pre-existent orders. All
leading scientific thinkers regard evolution so well estab-
lished as not likely to be shaken in its main conclusion.
From simple conditions has grown a world diversified
in appearance and teeming with differentiated life. The
higher forms have a genetic kinship with lower forms.
As structural modifications have resulted in the body, so
44
THE OPEN COURT.
mental modifications have" resulted in the mind of man.
Language, government, art, morals and religion have
grown from the most rudimentary conditions. Judaism
and Christianity can be shown to have grown out of
earlier religious systems. Christianity gained its great
conquests only when it had assimilated much of the
Paganism with which it was confronted, and it persists
to-day only because, ignoring those portions of the New
Testament teachings which are ascetic, or impracticable
in this age, it adopts the maxims and conforms to the
requirements of our modern industrial civilization.
Fortunately moral character and conduct do not
depend upon theological dogmas. Ethics is the science
of human relations. The moral law is a generalized
expression for the sum total of actions conducive to our
well-being. The moral sense is no doubt innate, but it
is an implication of evolution that 'innate or connate tend-
encies are the acquisitions of centuries, the experi-
ences of ancestors organized in the race in the form of
predispositions; so that instincts and intuitions, and even
the old metaphysical a priori "forms of thought," are
experiential in their nature — a priori in the individual
but experiential in the race.
Modern science, in a truly reconciliative spirit, fuses
into a synthesis whatever valuable there is in the old
conceptions with the newly-discovered truth, and it is
equally opposed to the dogmatism of theology on the one
hand and to mere iconoclasm on the other. It destroys
only to rebuild, only to get possession of the ground ; and
it would preserve whatever valuable materials there
are in the old structure, for use in the erection of a
fairer and nobler edifice for humanity.
In an article giving "A Thought-Reader's Experi-
ences," in the December number of the Nineteenth
Century, Stuart Cumberland, the most celebrated of the
so-called mind-readers, says that in his experiments he
is always blindfolded so that his attention may not be
distracted by light or movement, that in working out
actions, such as imaginary murder tableaux, he prefers
holding the patient's hand in his own, "so that all the
nerves and muscles may have full play." He never, he
says, gets a "mental picture" of what is in the subject's
mind and depends wholly upon impressions conveyed
to him through the actioivof the subject's physical sys- "
tern while his attention is concentrated. Mr. Cumber-
land states that he has never seen a successful experi-
ment of reading thoughts without contact, " unless there
had been opportunities for observing some phase of
physical indication expressed by the subject, or unless
the operator was enabled to gather information from
suggestions unconsciously let fall by somebody around.
I have on several occasions managed to accomplish tests
without actual contact, but have always been sufficiently
near to my subject to receive from him — and to act
upon accordingly — any impression that he physically
might convey." "In my case," he adds, "thought-
reading is an exalted perception of touch. Given con-
tact with an honest, thoughtful man, I can ascertain the
locality he is thinking of, the object he has decided
upon, the course he wishes to pursue, or the number he
desires me to decipher, almost as confidently as though
I had received verbal communication from him.
David A. Wasson, who died in Medford, Mass., in
January, after a long and painful struggle with dis-
ease— the result of an injury to his spine sustained
many years ago — was a philosophical thinker, a poet
and a man of exalted character. His papers, contrib-
uted to the Atlantic Monthly, the North American
Reviezv, The Index and other publications, are all
marked by vigor and originality of thought, an earnest
and conscientious spirit and fine literary taste, and many
of them are worthy of collection and reproduction in
permanent form. Hampered though he was by phys-
ical infirmities, which increased year by year, whatever
he wrote bore the stamp of the thinker and the artist.
No one who knew him well can forget the charm of
his personality, and none familiar with his writings, who
know under what painful disadvantages most of them
were produced, can fail to feel a deep and pathetic inter-
est in his philosophical and literary work.
# # *
The papers announce that Mr. Beecher is now at
work on his Life of Christ, that after its completion
he will write his own life and that then the two works
will be sold together by subscription. The Springfield
Republican gives the publisher a hint as to the heading
of their announcement, thus: "The Lives of Christ &
Beecher, by the Latter." The Republican mentions
that Rev. E. F. Burr, author of "Ecce Caelum," dedi-
cated one of his books to President Seelye, of Amherst
College, and another to the Supreme Being.
# * *
In a tribute to her husband, whose death was an-
nounced a few weeks ago, Elizabeth Cady Stanton
gives this illustration of Mr. 11. B. Stanton's readiness?
when addressing an audience, to take advantage of any
unexpected occurrence :
On one occasion he was delivering a temperance lecture on the
platform covered by a thick oil-cloth that protruded two or three
inches over the edge of the boards in front. In the midst of one
of his most eloquent passages he was comparing the inebriate's
downward course to the Falls of Niagara, and the struggle with
drink to the hopeless efforts of a man in the rapids. Just as he
reached, in his description, the fatal plunge over the precipice, he
advanced to the edge of the platform, the oil cloth gave way under
his feet and in an instant he went down headlong into the audi-
ence, carrying with him desk, glass, pitcher and water. Being
THE OPEN COURT.
45
light and agile, he was quickly on the platform again, anil im-
mediately remarked with great coolness: " I carried my illustra-
tion farther than I had intended to. Yet even so it is that the
drunkard falls, glass in hand, carrying destruction with him. But
not so readilv does he rise again from the terrible depths into
which he has precipitated himself." The whole house cheered
again and again, and even Gough never struck a more powerful
blow for temperance.
* * *
A lady relates this of her servant, a spinster about
forty years old, who had a settled aversion to the male
portion of mankind: "One day she asked for my
library ticket to go to our village library for a book to
read. I recommended two or three books which I
thought she would find within her capacity, but she
found that they were all out and she choose a book
for herself. It was Darwin's 'Descent of Man.' 'Why
did you pick out this book, Biddy?' I asked her, in sur-
prise. 'Sure, ma'am,' she replied, 'it says its about a
daycent man, and if there's one daycent man top of
ground I thought I'd like to be radin' about him; but
it ain't about any man at all, ma'am; its all about mon-
keys, sure.
* * *
Dr. Edmund Montgomery writes:
I perfectlv agree with Mr. Hegeler that living faith in the
unbroken continuity of organic "form" and conscious participa-
tion in its further development, have to become the positive and
central inspirations of the scientific creed. It is this iact ot
nature which is really the superindividual, realistic basis of the
unity of mankind and of all its social and ethical striving. The
mystery of love in all its phases arises from the fundamental
organic unitv — a unity rendered wondrously mystic and mag-
netic through the estrangement of individuated personality. Every-
one so isolated and yet so completely one with all the rest. The
readv self-sacrifice for Love's sake, and especially the joyous sacri-
fice of parents, attest sufficiently how deeply and instinctively
rooted this feeling of organic unity really is. Being universal among
unperverted clashes of humanity, it affords an organized, im-
pressible and altruistic medium for the emotional reception of the
scientific creed. But as the same nature-rooted sentiment has
been falsely interpreted by supernatural and anti-social theories
of life, it devolves upon science to give it a solid, incontestable
basis in vital organization.
* * *
The Century Magazine prints for the first time the
words of Abraham Lincoln given in an official repri-
mand to a young officer who had been court-martialed
for quarreling: "Yield larger things to which you
can show no more than equal right, and yield lesser
ones, though clearly your own. Better give your path
to a dog than be bitten by him in contesting for the
right. Even killing the dog would not cure the bite."
This is not, in our opinion, sound moral teaching.
It would never develop strength of character nor
promote a strong sentiment of justice among men,
with respect for the right of one another. The man
who voluntarily allows others to impose upon him
encourages imposition. The man who submits to
injustice to himself, when he can prevent it, encour-
ages injustice to others, and, however amiable his
disposition or good his intentions, his conduct weakens
the safeguards <>i social order. The truly just man
respects the rights of his fellow men, and insists
upon his own. "The killing of the dog would not
cure the bite," but it would prevent his biting some
other person less able, perhaps, to escape or to defend
himself.
-::- * *
Auberon Herbert, in A Politician in Trouble About
His So///, sriys of Herbert Spencer:
With the most faithful appreciation of scientific work, he has
seen that the world belonged neither to the physicist, nor to the
chemist, nor to the biologist; but that it was something larger
than any world of theirs. He has seen, as Carlyle, and Emerson,
and Ruskin, and Walt Whitman have seen, each in his own way,
the wonder and the miracle in which we are all enveloped — the
marvel of the knowable world and the marvel of the unknow able
world, lying bevond the enchanted mountains and their impas-
sable barrier; he has looked through the nature that surrounds us
to the meaning at the heart of it all; he has used science as the
interpreter of the sacred thing, but not stayed in it, as if it were
the sacred thing itself. We owe it to him more than to any man —
unless, perhaps, it be Emerson — the power to realize the harmony
and unity embracing all things, the perfect order and the perfect
reason, in the light of which men may walk confidently with sure
aims. We owe to him new possibilities of that faith, of which the
theologian, with his combined pettiness and rashness, has almost
robbed the world.
* # *
The following notice of The Open Court is from
the editorial columns of the Boston Herald of Feb. 24:
The Open Court, which takes the place of the Index a! d is
now published at Chicago as a fortnightly, is a great improve-
ment on that rather unequal journal and brings to the front, with
their affirmations of positive thought, the principal radical think-
ers of the country. There is a welcome field for such a paper,
though its home would seem to be in the East rather than in the
West. But one is too happy to have such a paper in existence to
be too critical as to the quarter of the country in which it appears.
Many of the old stand-bys are here in their proper place, but one
recognizes a more philosophical tone of thought, a more con-
structive view of life, a stronger grip on things essential. This i-
to he encouraged. An objection to much that is called new
thought is that it is nothing but articulated nonsense. The
Open Court in its initial issue is comparatively free from this
sort of utterance. There is not an article in it which a thinking
man can afford to skip and if the periodical can be maintained at
its present level it will speedily become one of the influential
papers of the United States in all that pertains to vital think
It will be an honor to any man to reach the public through its
columns. \
* * *
Mr. Zimmerman's speech in the last issue of The (
Court was the only part of the discussion of Mr. HegtUr's
essav that was printed from the stenographer's notes without
revision or correction, and it contains some errors which in jus-
tice to Mr. Zimmerman should be indicated. In the fifth line
for " those for " read these few; in the seventh line instead ol
"can" read again. In the eighth line after "until" read
at last, and after " vigor " omit " falls under " and substitute fa U
no invigorating.
46
THE OPEN COURT.
UNITARIANISM AND ITS GRAND-
CHILDREN.
BY MONCURE D. CONWAY.
In the statistics, Unitarianism appears one of the
smaller sects. In reality, it is the largest. The fallacy
arises from the fact that Unitarianism is not viviparous,
does not bring forth its young alive; it is oviparous,
and most of its eggs, like those of the cuckoo, are
hatched in other nests than its own. The bad name of
the cuckoo comes from the European species, which
shove other eggs out of the nests they invade before
depositing their own. The American cuckoo respects
the brood of other birds, and leaves its child to be
brought up with them, and for a time be confused with
them. When the broader wing develops in the Con-
gregational nest, or the Episcopal, or the Quaker nest,
there is a good deal of fluttering and scolding among
the parent birds; but the new creature is strong, not
easily pitched out, and is gradually adopted as one of
the family. If Unitarianism recognized all its children
in other churches, and outside, of all churches, it would
feel patriarchal as Abraham, the father of generations.
The late Dean Stanley said that, while he was in Amer-
ica, every sermon he preached had some of Channing in
it, and every sermon he heard was largely from Emer-
son. Yet he did not attend any Unitarian Church.
Channing is a Unitarian father; Emerson one of his
children, Theodore Parker another. These two chil-
dren were from eggs laid in the nest once called
"infidel;" they were repudiated, but are now objects of
parental pride. Then Parker and Emerso-n found nests
in which to lay their young. Transcendentalism and
Parkerism, children of Unitarianism, gave birth to the
germs of new departures. The Free Religious Asso-
ciation, the Ethical Society Union, the Agnostic philoso-
phy, are thus grandchildren of Unitarianism. If all
who are really of one blood could be gathered together,
a great force might be generated. There is a growing
tendency in the old household of liberal faith to build
for itself a larger mansion; so that its grandchildren
may mingle with its children, and not merely come for
an occasional visit, but stay for a long time. On the
other hand, some of us fear that the homestead is not
large enough for a house that can include ail the liberal
family. We know that, whether beside Tiberias or
Winnipesaukee, such houses of the true and free cannot
be made with hands; and suspect that it might even be
better if Unitarianism were to give up denominational
housekeeping altogether and live on its children and
grandchildren, who would be all the better for its cul-
ture and experience.
Thirty-five years ago I came from an orthodox
church into the Unitarian Church to find it hotly mili-
tant. Many besides myself must look back on those
old disputes with sorrowful wonder. The polemical
spirit of those days has passed away before a discovery
which has changed every thinker's point of view. We
are now evolutionists. We regard each other not as
soldiers of one or another camp, but as minds represent-
ing various stages of development — buds or blossoms,
or fruits more or less ripe, to be dealt with not by bruises
but sunshine. We have also learned two other things:
i. That the persistence or decline of doctrines depends
much less than we used to think on their truth or
untruth. The world is fashioned by evolutionary forces.
Even an untrue dogma may survive so long as it pro-
duces the man valued by society and helps the average
world better than the truth. 2. We have learned that
dogmas may not be what they seem, and that where
any faith bears sweet fruit, loveliness of life, charity to
all, the mere orthodox name does not alter the organic
truth of that faith any more than it would affect the
character of a peach tree if you should label it prickly
pear. He that deviseth liberal things is liberal, whether
he can rightly analyze his liberalism or not.
The controversial method is thus discredited. Our
zeal is transferred from the abstract to the practical side
of our truth. To propagate a doctrine means to make
it a factor in human evolution. The more we fight for
it the less we advance it, for the man we fight is the
man we have got to enlighten. And if we cannot show
in ourselves, in our families, in our societies, better types
of character than his, we cannot by any reasoning
touch the spring that moves that man — who is average
mankind, organized through ages by ecclesiastical selec-
tion, but moralized by social selection.
The defect of most liberal organizations arises from
the fact that they were pre-Darwinian. Positivism,
with its elaborate scheme for a Church of Humanity,
already, in its second generation, appears antiquated.
Transcendentalism included the idea of development, but
it was based on the optimistic view of nature; the law
of evolution reveals nature "red in tooth and claw,"
dependent on man for restraint and direction. The Free
Religious Association was a Declaration of Independ-
ence, and it was followed by a sort of confederation for
the security of individualism rather than for co-opera-
tion. The union of societies for ethical culture, formed
this year in New York, is the only liberal organization
constituted since the revolution in the aims and methods
of progress caused by study of the laws of evolution.
We may, in a sense, call that ethical movement the
great-grandchild of Unitarianism.
Nearly every Unitarian feels that he is able to keep
abreast of most movements. He has no creed to keep
him from being a Free Religious Associate, a transcend-
entalism a rationalist, an ethical culturis', an agnostic-
even. And yet these new departures have had to
develop themselves outside of Unitarianism. Somehow
THE OPEN COURT.
47
they have not found the ancestral atmosphere congenial
to a farther religious and ethical evolution. Is there
any necessary cause behind this fact?
What are the aims of a liberal Church? Its primary
aim is to cultivate the whole higher nature of every indi-
vidual it can reach. This is a great task. Every soul is
dogged through life by its hereditary animal; to restrain
that animal, tame it, domesticate /it, and harmonize it
with the higher purposes of life, is a work requiring the
finest art and profound science. The good shepherd of
the new age, unable to frighten the wolf from his edu-
cated flock with incredible hells, nor bribe it with a
upine paradise, must, nevertheless, alarm animalism with
the actual consequences of evil, and invest virtue with
her every charm, that the sense of honor may grow
strong enough to subdue every degrading tendency.
For that work the Unitarian society seems fairly con-
stituted. It holds two great doctrines which fit it for
such ethical service — the dignity of human nature, and
the salvation of every man by his own merits. A gen-
eration thoroughly trained on those two principles would
be a virtuous generation.
I heard Emerson sav — it was more than thirty years
ago — " I do not hear the preacher, but gladly help in
his support; it is important to have in town a man occu-
pied with its humanities." I could not help feeling that
something must be wrong, or else he himself would be
still the great preacher in his ancestral church. The
three greatest intellects of our own time — Emerson,
Darwin, Carlyle — were all trained for the pulpit; but
neither found it adequate for his large aim. It might
do for "the humanities," but not for humanity. And
this brings us to consider another aim of every liberal
church. It must have some mission to the world. It
must not merely cultivate individual natures for personal
happiness, domestic life, or the social circle; it must
influence the state, the world, the conditions under which
society is evolved, the forces by which humanity is
fashioned. Self-culture is but a variety of selfishness
unless it is humanized. Science studies all things
impartially; morality distinguishes the good from the
evil; but religion means to fall in love with the good.
To seek it everywhere, to make sacrifices for it, to
demand the whole world for it, is as essential to rational
religion now as it was to those who, of old, gave their
lives joyfully in hope of a renovated earth.
Jesus was an evolutionist. The travail of his soul
was a purified and renewed earth. It was to be brought
about by human toil as a harvest. A small seed fed and
watered till as a tree it fills the earth, was the similitude
of his faith. But his truth fell amid briers of supersti-
tion; it was choked as it sprung up. When he died and
appeared no more among men, his followers located his
new earth beyond the clouds, where they supposed he
had gone; they lavished their enthusiasm anil their sacri-
fices on another world, and abandoned this to its sup-
posed diabolical ruler. The aim of the living Jesus
was thus overthrown by the phantom of a risen Christ.
After its long slumber of centuries the idea of Jesus
has awakened, in our own time; again there rises
before religious faith the vision of a renovated world to
be secured by human effort. The dream of immortal-
ity remains, but the rosy heaven which so long absorbed
religious enthusiasm is steadily superseded by the hope
that this great lump of earth is to be leavened with
truth, and justice, and beauty; and bv the belief that it
is to be brought about by the labors of man.
Yes, in our own age, for the first time since Jesus
went silent, has the cry of the poor been heard bv relig-
ion, and the salvation of man from actual evils become
the supreme end of any church. Good men in many
churches have indeed heard that cry, churches have
adopted their charities; but Christianity never promised
the salvation of this world from the evils which afflict
and degrade it, never proposed to exterminate pauper-
ism, disease, despotism, never threw itself on the side of
any cause that concerned man simply in his earthly con-
dition. It was heresy to deal with human sufferings as
not included in the providence of God; it was sacri-
lege to devote to man any treasures consecrated to
God. If that providence had done for man as much as
man has done for him, every human desert would be
blossoming like the rose.
If now once more the brave voice of Paul, warn-
ing the Athenians that God needs nothing at all at
men's hands, is heard, we owe it primarily to the Unita-
rian movement. The germ of a human religion was
planted when reverence ceased to believe that man's
chief end was to glorify God, to pay God for dying for
him, to sound his praises for the surprising mercy of
not damning the whole human race to all eternity.
Unitarianism proclaimed a new God and a new man; that
implied presently a new heaven; that again a new earth.
But every new divinity must for a time propitiate the
preceding one. The old forms and phrases are used,
though with new meanings, and there is apt to be a sort
of compromise — a father-and-son arrangement. By that
means Christianity inherited the temples of Paganism,
and by a like process Unitarianism inherited the temples
of Puritanism. The father generally holds a mortgage
on the estate of the son, but when the grandson comes
the continuity becomes strained. For this third person
is the spirit which finds the letter a burdensome heritage.
The living spirit is sharper that a two-edged sword ; it
is always a divider. It questions the forms which the
new faith has derived from the old. And that is the
spirit which is searching Unitarianism to find whether
it is able to meet the demand it has awakened — to deal
with the social, moral, national, human questions which
have supplanted theology. Fifty years ago Unitarianism
THE OPEN COURT.
gave up from its pulpit the noblest genius this country
ever produced, because he could not celebrate the sacra-
mental symbol of a dogma which Unitarianism had
taught him to repudiate: yet fifty-five years ago that
same preacher, Emerson, was able to bring an humble
abolitionist from Boston common into his pulpit, from
which, for the first time, the slave's cause was heard by
people of wealth and influence. And during all that
struggle for humanity the Unitarian, alone among
churches, had a witness for justice in every community
and, above its official hesitations, wrote in faithful and
fearless pulpits a record of which it need not lie ashamed.
Fifty years is a long time. It is probable that in
most Unitarian congregations a preacher's eloquence
would outweigh his dissent from their theology and dis-
use of any sacrament. But, in the presence of great
issues affecting humanity, men whose hearts burn within
them lose their interest in theology, in ceremonies; the
ritual solemnities become literally impertinent. The
adequacy of a church to the issues of its time is solely a
question of whether that church is able to attract to
itself the moral genius of its time. And that no church
can do without being the very best organ through
which moral genius can influence the fine issues for
which it is finely touched. Is Unitarianism drawing to
itself and giving free course to the moral genius of its
time? Yes, in one sense; no, in another. Yes, if its
children and grandchildren be reckoned with it, and its
sons who have carried its thunder into certain orthodox
churches. Sydney Smith once wrote to a friend : "I
preached a sermon this morning on peace, as good
as any of Dr. Channing's; in fact it was Dr. Chan-
ning's." The like may be said of man}- sermons now
charming Boston and New York, only they are somewhat
more heretical than Channing's; for the meal may be
bear's meat if the grace is liturgical. When some one
spoke of the apparent decline of Unitarianism, Dr.
Bellows said a better phrase were the decline of
apparent Unitarianism. The suggestion seems still
true.
Whatever may be thought of the Unitarianism which
is leavening churches called orthodox, I cannot help feel-
ing that the societies which have no theological tests
ought to be able to form a unity so complete, a frater-
nity so free, a ministration so various, that the religious
genius now starved in uncongenial professions shall be
recalled. Very slight modifications of structure may
be followed by vast changesof function; a grain-weight
of bone may make all the difference between the earth-
bound and the heaven-soaring creature; and it maybe
that some small changes might make Unitarianism into
the real American Church.
Simply to drop the name Unitarian might have great
results. The question of the Trinity is now of only
infinitesimal importance. What serious person is willing
to sever himself from his ancestral church on so paltry a
question as whether the deity exists in three persons or
one? People are concerned now to know whether
there be anv God at all or not, but whether he has three
persons or three or three thousand, is of no importance
whatever. That battle-field is cold. The Unitarian
surrendered the whole thing with the authority of the
Bible. If the Bible is not God's Word, what it teaches
about his personality is of mere literary interest. For
. reason or science there can be no such question. The
man who believes God has several persons, or a million,
has as much fact to support him as the man who says he
has one, since, apart from "revelation," neither knows
anything at all about it. The Unitarian name is an
anachronism, and, I suspect, is kept up from loyalty to
the fathers and a lingering militantism.
But more, the Unitarian name, arrogant toward
orthodoxy — as if alleging that it does not hold the
divine unity, a sort of "bloody shirt" waved in its
face — on the other hand misrepresents the thinkers
so labeled. It obstinately suggests that they are
devoting their lives, their scholarship, their freedom and
power, to a small theological negation. So long as
people can hear preached in Trinitarian churches, as they
do, the fatherly tenderness of God once distinctive of
Unitarian doctrine, the humanity of Jesus, the sacredness
of man, they will not care for the mystical word with
which such realities are connected. And if it be said
that such preaching in orthodox churches is dishonest,
the Trinitarian may ask whether it be any more honest
for those who affirm the Universal Love to prompt that
love with prayers; or for those who reject the vicarious
atonement to still consecrate the blood of Jesus?
However, names are difficult things to deal with;
they get into trust deeds, and bind the living- to bury the
dead. Therefore, the only way to get rid of such a mis-
nomer as "Unitarian," is to earn the right characteristic
name, to work up to it, live up to it, until the world can
read the true name on their forehead, as they read
"Quaker" on the brow of George Fox and " Methodist"
on that of Wesley.
The ear of the world has never been caught but by
some gospel of salvation. But from what can a Unita-
rian save the world? He cannot aspire to convince the
world of the truth of a theological creed, for he has
none; be cannot propose to save the world from hells
and devils that do not exist. From what, then, can
he save it? The world is daily teaching us how and
from what it must be saved. Outside of the churches —
alas! outside — societies are formed to confront the mani-
fold evils of the world — temperance societies, purity
societies, woman's rights, man's rights, anti-capital, social-
istic leagues. Each a satire on the churches, and each
a rough-hewn stone in the church of the future — the
Church of Man. They are rough, these movements,
THE OPEN COURT.
49
out of proportion, stumbling-blocks to the refined and
reasonable, because they are detached from the centers
of religious sentiment and culture, which alone might
shape and polish them.
But who is equal to these things? Religion has so
long been occupied with making poor God comfortable,
and pleased with himself, that we have no training for
these social and moral issues. A poet says "new occa-
sions teach new duties," but they do not teach us how to
fulfil them. The Bible having ceased to be a guide,
because it requires casuistry to make it out a moral book,
we have been left to the laws of nature; and now find
nature even less moral than the Bible. The anxious
mother asks her liberal pastor: "Will you please give
me a reason for my son why he should not gamble?"
"Well, we didn't study that subject at the divinity
school." "Or," she proceeds, "perhaps you will give
me an answer for my daughter who, after hearing your
beautiful sermon on God as revealed in nature, asked
whether we should follow our nature." "Ah, Madame,
that is a difficult question. I must look it up some day.
By the way, how did you like my view of agnosticism
last Sunday ? "
When our good minister goes out into the world he
is even more helpless. There he finds capital entrenched
in the natural law of supply and demand, and labor
hurling at it the equally natural stone with which con-
servation of force supplies its hand. The Golden Rule is
transformed to the Rule of Gold. It is the struggle for
existence. The millionaire cannot exist without his
million any more than the workman without more
wages. Steadily rises the storm. They used to tell us
in the anti-slavery agitation that God would end the
wrone in his own grood time; but when it was ended
that way, so much hell- fire was brought to the work,
that it looks as if it might have been better to do the
work ourselves. If the people had been as fully
instructed by their pulpits in the moral facts of their
own country, as in those of ancient Judea, there would
have been no slavery and no war. And as one sees an
anarchist nation steadilv forming in hostility to the
existing nation, while its moral guides are exhuming
Jerusalem or speculating on the unseen world, a shud-
dering fear arises lest what we are witnessing should
turn out to be the reversion of a race to barbarism.
What corruption in great corporations, what baseness in
politics! With what cynical hypocrisy is the polygamy
of Utah outlawed in such ingenious terms as to leave
unrestrained the baser polygamy of our cities, which
leaves its victims without respect or shelter! What
rebuke of this do we hear? Where is any Sinai?
Among all the exhausted craters I see but one summit
beginning to dart out the sacred flame. The move-
ment which in largeness, freedom, influence, may claim
to be successor to that of Channing, of Parker, of
Emerson, is one in New York, which is trving to found
religion on pure morality — on the actual salvation of man.
The moral ignorance of educated people is a necessary
result of the long confusion of morality with theology.
A learned and veteran Unitarian minister has lately
stated that we liberals are all living morally on elements
bequeathed from orthodoxy to our atmosphere. I fear
there is a good deal of truth in that. It may account
for the feebleness of our protest against the combination
of churches to defy constitutional rights of conscience and
establish their average theology, their Sabbath, their
bible in every State; and, by exempting their church
property from taxation, tax every man so far for their
support. It accounts for the fact that Bible societies go
on circulating a Bible containing thousands of admitted
errors, while one in which most of them are cor-
rected is at hand. That deliberate circulation of exposed
falsities as the Word of God could not continue if the lib-
eral teachers of this country were not infected by an
atmosphere inherited from ages of pious fraud.
I do not mean to intimate that these orthodox men
are not good men. But they are under the epoch of
religious militantism. We know the duty of soldiers.
"Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but lo do .ma die."
The captain vvho, in private life, would scorn untruth,
on the battle-field will deceive his foe by every strata-
gem. For himself he would not harm a fly; for his
flag he will kill thousands of men. So have many
tender-hearted men, enlisted as soldiers of the church
militant, slain and burnt those whom they regarded as
enemies of Christ; and, now that holy massacres of
heretics are out of date, they resort to deception and
stratagem. But it is all to win souls for Christ. It is
to save human beings from a fearful doom. " E'en their
vices lean to virtue's side." They are zealous to save
men from a fictitious hell. I wish we were all as zeal-
ous in saving men from real hells. When the Christian
soldier lays aside his armour you have a kindly, honest,
moral man. He will vote with his theological antago-
nist for the right thing. If we could only get all the
good moral men who make such sacrifices for their
theologic flag — even sacrifices of veracity and charity —
to set our common cause, the salvation of man from
moral and social evil, above their creed, above the cere-
monial service of God, the millennium might cease to be
a mere dream. Men cannot thoroughly serve two
masters. So long as they believe in a deity who needs
something at men's hands, that service will be the
supreme thing.
Positive begets negative. The militantism of the
church produces an antagonist militantism. So long as
the barbarous laws of Moses are imposed on us — Sabba-
tarian law, law of blood for blood, blasphemy laws —
there will be revivalists of common sense to show up
5°
THE OPEN COURT.
the mistakes of Moses. Biblical immoralities and
absurdities cannot be consecrated without recoiling in
resentment and ridicule.
But the time seems ripe for the formation, between
these militant hosts, of a religion based on what all
believe — on what no sane man doubts. The Ethical
Society marks an era. A hundred years ago five Amer-
ican colonies sent a few delegates to Annapolis to consult
whether there might not be established in the confeder-
ated colonies some kind of uniformity in trade laws and
other urgent matters. They came to the conclusion
that nothing could be done so long as the States were
isolated by jealousy and without political solidarity ; so
they issued a summons to the States, and our Union was
formed, each State reserving its self-government, but
each contributing to form a central power representing
interests they hat! in common. Puritan colony, Quaker
colony, Episcopal Virginia, Catholic Maryland, Baptist
Rhode Island, and the rest, formed a Union, neutral as
to their creeds, but strong to protect and advance them
all, and guarantee the freedom of all in each. A
hundred years from now the historian of religion may
have to trace moral results proportionately grand to the
recent convention of delegates from four or five socie-
ties for ethical culture. Among those delegates were
several varieties of theoretical belief. But it is no
theory that right is right and wrong wrong; that the
evils of the time should be dealt with ; that the ethics of
society and of the home should be studied with more
care and taught with more earnestness and wisdom.
Such co-operation does not demand that men should
abandon their several creeds or churches. We all
believe in justice, charity, freedom, truth; let us study
the moral laws and their application to our condition.
To some this may be subordinate to a doctrinal scheme,
but they can lend a hand, be it only a left hand. But
to Unitarianism, and to the phases of liberalism descended
from it, this ethical religion supplies the only hope of
any renewal of the life which once made the land bud
and blossom under the breath of great spiritual leaders.
The wine of those great vintages has gone into old
bottles. All the better. The ethical union is not for
any denomination, but for mankind. In the ethical
union advantage may be derived from the varieties of
experience ami training represented in the different
sects. They have all progressed farther than is sup-
posed. In London Cardinal Manning once invited my
co-operation to secure purer and cheaper water for the
poor of the city. Dr. Adler tells me that he is receiv-
ing letters of encouragement for his Society for Ethical
Culture from orthodox clergymen. All these have the
same practical problems to deal with as the unorthodox —
social, domestic, moral. The same ethical chaos sur-
rounds us all — good instincts vulgarized by fanaticism,
impurities fostered by false methods of dealing with
them, popular sentiment utilized by demagogues for
base ends, crime flourishing through unscientific codes,
the reformer doing that which seems right in his own
eyes, without trying to see eye to eye with his brother.
What heart can see any dove hovering over this chaos
without an emotion of hope that its brooding may
bring peace and order?
What can a liberal society do? Let it found in its
community a society for ethical culture. Let it invite
all, especially all public teachers, to come and consider
purely moral and social subjects, theoretical and practi-
cal, social and domestic, local and national. Let the
prevailing moral ideas be thoroughly searched. Let the
practical methods be revised. Discipline in the home,
the school, the prison; corporal punishment; the pur-
pose of punishment, and its methods; the difference
between vice and crime; how to deal with intemperance,
licentiousness, pauperism; what instruction should be
given boys and girls concerning sex, and the dangers,
bodily and moral, amid which they move; marriage
laws; poor laws; labor laws; amusements and pleasures:
these and other urgent matters, about which there might
be a harmony such as that which prevails among scien-
tific men as to principles and methods, are left in crude
confusion because the comparative study which elicits
truth is here wanting. The clergy, to whom moral
instruction of the people is entrusted, have no means
of having their traditional notions checked. The preach-
ers are not preached to. Dr. Holmes once suggested
the danger that the pulpit might relapse into Paganism
for lack of moral instruction. Most of the clergy are
cultivating American fields with the ploughs of ancient
Palestine. If a better plough were shown them there
is really nothing to prevent their adopting it, though
they might label it Palestinian. There ought to be
an ethical school in every community in which moral
science shall be studied. Sir James Mackintosh said
that "morality admits no discoveries;" he declared, and
Buckle followed him, that there has been no important
variation in the moral rules of life for three thousand
years. That stationariness has been due to the domina-
tion of dogma over the social, domestic, and political
life of mankind. It is not true, however, that no pro-
gress in moral ideas, even with these disparagements.
The virtue of self-truthfulness, impossible so long as
the self was believed satanic, has appeared. Compas-
sionateness for animals, unknown to the Bible, has been
arising under the Darwinian era. Toleration, on
moral grounds, is a new virtue, though feeble as yet and
not able to keep the atheist from being boycotted. These
latest moral buds and fruits prove that while theories
grow gray the tree of life is renewed. Ecclesiastic
cherubim no longer guard it from our approach.
Its leaves are for the healing of the nation. Its fruit
shall be righteousness, joy, and peace. But the time
THE OPKN COURT.
5i
of its ripe fruit is not yet. Morality is still largely
monastic, puritanical, sour. The virtue of youth is
bruised because the young man is taught by his mother
and his pastor lessons of life which he presently finds
do not correspond with the facts. We have free
thought; we now want mature thought. Theology has
run its career and now rests in the tomb of the unknow-
able. Nothing is heard there but the tolling of the bell
and chant for the soul of the departed. However we
may long to know the unknowable, to pierce the veil
of the future beyond this life, we must turn from such
longings and make the most of what is left us — the
power to be ourselves a providence and to answer pray-
ers. If you cannot get what you have set your hearts
on, you must set your hearts on what you can get.
COMMENTS ON MR. HEGELER'S ESSAY.*
BY W. M. SALTER.
I consider that Mr. Hegeler has given us an im-
portant philosophical theory of ethics. His view seems
to go with Spencer's up to a certain point. That is
good which tends to the continuance of life, in ourselves
and in others, and not only that, but to a greater quan-
tum (quantity) o life, M Hegeler laying special stress
upon the soul-life as distinguished from the merely
physical -life.
Spencer says that all our judgments of good and
bad imply that life is desirable. Mr. Hegeler does not
dispute this. But Spencer says, desirable, because life
affords a surplus of pleasure over pain. Mr. Hegeler
says, irrespective of this; according to him, life is desir-
able for itself alone. Spencer holds that if there were
not more pleasure than pain, or if there were only equal
amounts or more pain than pleasure, life would not be
desirable; and then good and bad would have opposite
meanings to those they now have; good would mean
those actions that tend to shorten life and bad those
actions that tend to prolong it. Mr. Hegeler holds that
even if there is no surplus of pleasure or, I should sup-
pose, if there is an actual surplus of pain, life is still to
be desired, for it is a good- in itself.
What, then, according to Mr. Hegeler, are the func-
tions of pleasure and pain? They are not ends in
themselves, but rather signs that ends are being accom-
plished; pleasure accompanies the maintenance and
growth of life, pain its disintegration and decay. By
our desire for pleasure and our dislike for pain we are
influenced in the direction of those actions that tend to
build up life and hindered from doing those that lead
to destroy it. But pleasures are not rationally to be
sought for their own sake, but because they are con-
* At a meeting of the Societv for Ethic il Culture of Chicago succeeding
that at which was read "The Basis of Ethics" by Mr. E. C. Hegeler,
printed in the first issue of this Journal. In the next number will be given
still fur. her comments and criticisms made that evening.
joined with those actions that promote life. Spencer,
on the other hand, cannot speak of the functions of
pleasure and pain, because they are ends in themselves,
the one to be sought, the other to be avoided; but he
can speak of the functions of life, namely to give us a
surplus of pleasure over pain. We naturally crave
pleasure and avoid pain; according to such a view as
Mr. Hegeler's, these desires are the machinery by which
life is built up; only by using the machinery do we
accomplish anything ; but the structure to be reared is
different from the machinerv to be used. According to
Spencer, the " machinery " becomes the end. To take
another illustration; a locomotive is fed with coal and
gives forth steam ; onlv on this condition does it run;
but its end is to run. Suppose now that it became a
conscious being and felt pleasure in consuming the coal
and emitting the steam, and thereupon came to the con-
clusion that the pleasure was the purpose for which it
existed, it would be like the man who because he finds
pleasure in the things that build up his life thinks that
pleasure is the end and not life itself. Suppose that the
things that gave pleasure tended to destroy life, as does
in some rare instances, perhaps, happen; suppose the
ordinance of nature were different from what it is; then,
according to the logic of Spsncer's view, we should seek
pleasure though life were destroyed, on the ground that
cessation of life is better than a surplus of pain ; while ac-
cording to Mr. Hegeler's view we should endure pain
and renounce pleasure, because this would be the only
means by which we could live, and life is the paramount
end. Possibly I am in this overstating Mr. Hegeler's
personal convictions, but I am only seeking to bring
out the implications of his theory. If Mr. Hegeler
would not hold that life is desirable in case it is attended
with more pain than pleasure (even with much more),
then the distinctness of his theory vanishes, and instead
of life alone he admits pleasure also as an end; and then
his theory, to have any philosophical value, would have
to tell us hoxu much pleasure must be in life to make
it supportable or desirable? He has expressly said, not
necessarily a surplus of pleasure over pain ; must it
then be an equal amount? or, if not so, then half or
quarter as much? It seems to me, we are driven to
rough calculations of this sort, if on the one hand we do
not hold with Spencer that pleasure is the paramount
end, and yet, on the other, allow that it is something of
an end and admit that life absolutely without pleasure
and full of pain would nut be desirable.
Which is the right theory? I shall not attempt to
answer. I have wanted to bring out clearly Mr.
Hegeler's theory in my own mind, rather than to criti-
cise it. I think, however, as between the two, that Mr.
Hegeler's theory comes nearer the facts of life. The
life-instinct is wonderfully deep in the race. There is
nothing- that we shudder at so as destruction. There
52
THE OPEN COURT.
may even be those who would rather live on in entire
unhappiness than be blotted out altogether. They
would rather live in misery than cease to be. And
though there be few in number, there are many who
would rather live, if but a little happiness Is granted
them once in a while, and all the rest of their existence
is unhappy. The little oases in the midst of which
they may linger now and then, redeem the dreariness of
the desert through which they pass; they would rather
go on, if an oasis is somewhere ahead, than give, up the
march because the desert is so wide. I suspect there are
many people who do not have as much happiness as
unhappiness in life; occasionally we hear of one willing
to die, yes, even to take his or her life; the number of
suicides is actually increasing. But I suspect that the
mass of those to whom life is a long struggle, with many
disappointments and little pleasure, would yet rather go
on, and look on death with dread, altogether apart, too,
from fears of what may come after. For myself, I
would say that in searching for the truth I would rather
be baffled a thousand times and have the discomfort and
sense of frustration accompanying such experiences, if
the thousand and first time I found the truth, than to
forego the search at the outset, because I knew there
would be more pain than pleasure attending it. Others
might not think the result worth the trouble; I should.
I should rather have the mortification and shame of
defeat in the wrestle with an evil habit a hundred times
over and at last win the victory, though I never thought
of it again or my life ended immediately thereafter, than
not undertake the struggle because there was to be more
mortification than joy attending it. The amounts of pleas-
ure and pain in a life or in the life of a race seem to me a
poor means of estimating its value; but the amount of
life, the amount of attainment, physical attainment,
intellectual attainment, moral attainment, this, whether
applied to an individual or the whole race, seems
to me a high way of estimating the worth of their
existence.
But here I am trespassing on the field of criticism
which I had not meant to enter. The question, however,
is, not which do I happen to regard as supreme, life or
happiness, or which do any of us, but which is it
rational to regard as supreme? It may be that because
Mr. Hegeler's theory comes nearer to the facts of life it
is thereby no truer as a theory; for though men do
regard life as worth having, though it brings to them
more pain than pleasure, it may still be asked are they
reasonable in so doing, and, on those conditions, would
not a perfectly rational mind rather not live at all? So
Spencer thinks, and Spencer's view may be truer as an
ethical theory though Mr. Hegeler's comes nearer t<> the
facts of life. As to whether Spencer's theory is the
true]' of the two I shall not undertake to say, though I
incline to think not.
THREE LIVE THOUGHTS.
Whosoever is afraid of submitting any question,
civil or religious, to the test of free discussion, is more
in love with his own opinion than with truth. — Watson.
Be perfect! Countless harmonies slumber in thee,
to wake at thy bidding — invoke them, call them into
life by means of thy nobility! Canst thou suffer the
base, the perishable in thy nature to put to silence the
noble and the immortal? — Schiller.
The repressed and unhappy are in ten-fold more
danger from temptation than those who feel
they are having their share of life's good. The
stream that cannot flow in the sunshine seeks a subter-
ranean channel; in like manner, when circumstances or
the inconsiderate will of others impose unrelenting
restraint upon the exuberant spirit of youth, it usually
finds some hidden outlet which cannot bear the light.
— E. T.Roe.
CORRESPONDENCE.
A LETTER FROM BOSTON.
To the Editors: Jamaica Plains, Mass., Feb. 10, 1S87.
We are a little lonely here in Boston without The Index com-
ing punctually every week with its inspiration of noble words,
turning our thoughts to large and commanding themes of interest.
Somehow I feel as we might when there had been a wedding
in the family and the bride has gone far away. We hope the
change is for happiness and good to all, and are disposed to
treat the bridegroom who has borne away our treasure with all
courtesy and prospective affection, but, nevertheless, we do feel
lonely and a change has come over the old relations. So, while
we welcome The Open Court and are hopeful of all the good
it is to bring us, we yet wonder if anything can be as good as the
old familiar friend, and we trust that they who receive it will like a
letter from the old home.
Yesterda3' was the day appointed for the woman suffrage
hearing at the State House, and the weather smiled upon it as-
it has hardly smiled for two months, and the occasion was
worthy of the weather. The audience was large, as usual,
and, while mostly composed of the staunch men and women
who have followed this movement for years, there were some new
faces and a sprinkling of remonstrants. The committee were
thoroughly courteous and considerate. The cause of the petition-
ers for municipal suffrage was represented by Mr. Blackwell, Mrs.
Stone, Mr. Garrison, Mrs. Shattuck and others, and Mr. Fay, a
very gentlemanly lawyer from Brookline, appeared for the remon-
strants:
While fortunate in their choice so far as the personal traits of
their representative appeared, he was hardly a powerful advocate,
for he gave away the whole general principle, by showing some-
thing very like approbation for the plan of allowing women to
vote on the license question, and was only strenuous in his oppo-
sition to municipal suffrage, especially in large cities.
He took occasion to thank Col. lligginson for his article in
The Forum, wherein he has stated all possible objections to
woman suffrage with an ability which the remonstrants have
never been able to command. This brought up the veteran
colonel, whose trumpet gave forth no uncertain sound. Distinctly
ranking himself with the petitioners, he fortified the claim for
woman's suffrage with the noblest words of James Otis, and Benja-
min Franklin, and Charles Sumner, and showed that the women
who had spoken had adhered closely to these doctrines which were
THE OPEN COURT.
S3
at the foundation of ourcivil constitution. Those who had misun-
derstood his position and feared that the mists of conservatism
were obscuring his light, rejoiced with exceeding joy over this
full and candid utterance.
The meetings of the Hermetic Club have been noteworthy
this winter. Mr. W. T. Harris has on two Tuesdays expounded
the Bhagavadgita, and at the last session Mr. Emery, of Con-
cord, took his place as chairman and conducted the discussion
with great ability. It was curious to hear the old veteran,
Mr. Pillsbury, bringing out his stern plea for practical work in
the midst of this philosophic speculation.
A lady of Boston has received as her guest, and kindly given
to manv the opportunity of meeting at her house, Mr. Mohini, a
Brahmin of remarkable scholarship and eloquence. Having had
in early life the advantages of education in an English school, he
speaks our language with great correctness and beauty, and is
thoroughly versed in the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures. I am
told that he is equally at home in both the French and Italian
language and literature. Having passed through a period of
doubt and agnosticism, as he says most young Brahmins do, he
is now a devoted Brahmin, accepting revelation as authorita-
tive, but not confining it to the sacred books of his own nation,
but believing that the divine light shines through all sacred books
and all religions. While we may not accept his beliefs, we can-
not but admire the' breadth and catholicity of this thought. He is
still quite voung and very pleasing in appearance and manners,
and his influence is very strong upon some of his hearers. It
indicates a wonderful advance in freedom of thought and in real
liberality in religion, that those whom in our childhood we were
taught to renounce as heathen are now welcomed among us to
teach us of their wisdom as well as to learn of ours.
The " ladies' night " of the Liberal Union Club, on February
26th, will be an interesting occasion. Miss Eastman will be the
speaker. She always speaks on religious themes with great
earnestness, true insight and wide observation. Liberals need
bonds of union, not to separate them from others, but for richer
communion among themselves and for making their work
broader and more effective.
With best wishes for the success of The Open Court, I am,
Very truly yours,
Ednah Dow Cheney.
LIMITATIONS OF THE HUMAN FEELING.
To the Editors.: Fairfield, Iowa, Feb. 20, 1887.
An aged negro couple, living alone in the Skunk river valley,
in Lee county, Iowa, frightened by rising water, attempted to
reach higher ground in their wagon. The water was but two or
three feet deep, yet, reaching a bad place in the road, the team
was unable or refused to go farther and the old couple were left
there in helplessness and peril, although their cries were, after
awhile, answered from the shore and the calling back and forth
lasted some time; so far as is known, no serious effort was made
to rescue the unfortunates. They remained there prisoners all
night in bitter and increasing cold, awaiting the rescuing party
that never came. On the following morning cries were again
heard bv those living near, yet or some inexplicable reason no
aid was sent. Not until late on the second day did any one go
to them ; then they were both found dead in the now frozen
water beside their wagon, having attempted to unhitch the
team.
All accounts of this heart-rending tragedy agree that the old
couple were of that simple, child-like purity of life so common
among the older generation of colored people and were dearly
beloved by their white neighbors, and that the water was at no
time so deep or the current so swift as to render it impossible or
even hazardous for strong men to reach them. Why, then, this
apathv and inhuman inaction on the part of those who knew the
situation? I have seen men swim torrents to rescue animals
from a less painful and perilous situation! It would seem that
of all suffering and danger this case should have been most
powerfully appealing. Reverence for age and piety, sympathy
for helplessness, added to the common feeling of humanity,
should irresistibly have drawn any normal person to share theii
peril and suffering in an attempt to relieve them. The people
who stood by and saw these venerable, virtuous and helpless ones
of their own kind perish miserably were not savages nor brutal-;
ized peasants. They were average people of the middle working
class.
The case is a disheartening puzzle. Shame and indignation
seem more appropriate to it than philosophizing, yet doubtless it
shows a limitation of the feeling of humanity which may be in
some degree traced out and accounted for. A son or any relative
would have rushed impetuously into danger to rescue the loved
ones. Is it not almost as certain that near friends and associates
on an equality would have done the same thing? We are forced
to believe that had the old couple been white instead of black
they would not have been left to their pitiable fate. No one with
highly-developed altruistic feelings can see any human creature
perish so without desperate efforts to save them.
The limitations then are the various degrees of selfishness left
in human kind by an imperfect and faulty system of moral and
emotional training. The sympathies of most people very much
need broadening. Their love is intense enough when it comes
near to themselves, but it rapidly loses force as it reaches out
toward the great body of the race and is well nigh intercepted
by the slight barrier of race difference. When the religious sen-
timent is centered more on humanity and less on self and the
supernatural, such an incident as that on which these thoughts
are founded will be impossible.
F. B. Taylor.
FREE-THOUGHT LYCEUMS.
To the Editors:
In the first issue of your new fortnightly I find an article by
Thomas Davidson on the need for free- thought education. It
interested me very much, the more because I have here since
1SS4 argued the necessity of a more liberal and comprehensive
intellectual education than that given in the public schools. Will
you kindly grant me the space for a few remarks on the proposi-
tion with which Mr. Davidson closes his paper.
I think he is mistaken if he believes that a free-thought college
will do much good ; it is not in the colleges that the mind is
framed, as far as the feelings of fear and hope, of reverence and
esteem, are concerned. It seems to me, at least, that the young
people of about eighteen years, or of whatever age they may
enter a college, should be sure already of being and remaining on
the right side. The time for imbuing them with really liberal princi-
ples, even though they do not at once grasp all the consequences
thereof, is when the period of maturity begins; and then the
instruction they receive should cease to be merely elementary.
The time usually decisive in determining the moral and religious,
as well as the intellectual, character, is, on an average, that from
the age of thirteen to eighteen. What free-thinkers want, therefore,
in mv opinion, is a good free-thought lyceum, to which pupils
can go after graduating from the grammar room. A carefully-
educated and half-way diligent boy or girl ought to be ready for
the lyceum at the age of thirteen, and if he has then gone
through a course of instruction of half a decade, he may safely
be allowed to go to any college or university, no matter who
manages it, or what the religious views of the faculty are.
54
THE OPKN COURT.
Let nobody say that a free-thought school for children, or a
free-thought kindergarten, might as well be proposed. With chil-
■dren under thirteen years almost everything depends upon the
home in which they are brought up. Of course, it would be best
not to send them to the public schools at all, considering their
average character; but then, here a little care on the part of the
parents may prevent bad consequences, while beyond the age of
thirteen it cannot. My idea is that to the lowest class of such a
lyceum pupils should not be admitted under thirteen nor over
sixteen ; they should be ready for the best of American universities
latest at the age they become citizens. Let there be no more
colleges in the United States, but better schools preparing for
them, as pointed out by Dr. Paul Carus in one of The Index issues
■of July, 1SS6.
Very respectfully,
Thos. H. Jappe.
ETHICAL CULTURE AND MONISM.
To the Editors: Philadelphia, Feb. 22, 1887.
I have just received the first number of your new paper, and,
as I am a lawyer, as well as a theologist, I want to make a polite bow
in Open Court and respectfully ask to be admitted to your bar.
It is easy to see that ethical culture is to have prominent stand-
ing in your Court, and it deserves it; and, because I am in sym-
pathy with the new movement, I desire to enter a brief "demurrer"
to the policy of some of its chief appostles.
I think they are too outspoken and unguarded in so frequently
publishing their negations in regard to God, prayer and the future
life. They have a perfect right to proclaim their opinions, but I
fail to see what these questions have, necessarily, to do with ethical
culture. I do not believe in concealment and hypocrisy, but I
would not unwittingly shock and drive away any person whose
•co-operation is to be desired. All intelligent men know that
belief has very little tc/do with morals, and that some of the best
men have been known as atheists and agnostics, and that the same
is true of many theists and believers in prayer and the future life.
Why cannot all liberals work together in the new departure of
■ethical culture without having their respective peculiar opinions
continually paraded? I have reason for thinking, from personal
observation, that this friendly hint deserves careful consideration.
Let not this ethical culture movement be hampered with a
creed, written or implied. I have not had time to examine Dr.
Montgomery's Monism, and shall reserve my opinion until the
case is fully heard in Open Court. I call myself a Rationalistic
Theist, but I find my theism well expressed by Professor Haeckel,
as follows:
"The more developed man of the present day is capable of,
and justified in, conceiving that infinitely nobler and sublimer
idea of God which alone is compatible with the monistic concep-
tion of the universe, and which recognizes God's spirit and
power in all phenomena without exception. The monistic idea
of God, which belongs to the future, has already been expressed
by Giordano Bruno in the following words: 'A spirit exists in all
things, and nobody is 60 small but contains a part of the divine
substance within itself, by which it is animated.'"
I close this hasty note with a suggestion I have made in another
connection :
" It was once said by a master of English literature and a
keen observer that 'language is a device to conceal one's ideas;'
and may it not be possible that, after all, truly scientific and can-
did men have substantially the same theory of the universe, and
really mean the same thing, while they use very different words
to express their meaning?"
R. B. Westbrook.
DRIFTING.
FIRST VOICE.
Drifting, along the dreary waters drifting-.
Night on the waves, and ne'er a star o'erhead,
Never a gleam o'er all the waste uplifting,
Never a ray thro' all the darkness shed.
Drifting, along ihe dreary waters drifting.
Whither away, O, soul across the ocean ?
Dark is the night and dangerous is the sea,
Sweeter were life with all its wild commotion,
Better were death than life like this can be.
Whither away, O, soul across the ocean?
SECOND VOICE.
O, heart, why wilt thou weary me with wailing?
Worn are we both and wasted with the strife,
Far Irom the toil ;ind tears we twain are sailing,
Leaving behind the bitterness ol life.
O, heart, why wilt thou weary me with wailing?
Be still, sad heart, and cease thy vain repining —
Be patient, lor the night will soon be past,
.Somewhere alar a golden shore is shining,
Thither the flood will bear us at the last.
Be still, sad heart, and cease thy vain repining.
Walter Crane.
There has never been a great man who has not been
either the victim of laws or the object of human in-
gratitude.— - Castelar.
THE AGE.
WRITTEN AFTER READING "LOCKSLEY HALL SIXTY YEARS AFTER."
BY W. F. BARNARD.
This our age that wears upon its front the symbol of the truth,
Grandest age of all the ages in the promise of its youth,
Seeking out the great world- purpose, seeking it but to obey,
Lifting man up into manhood, thrusting ignorance away,
Bearing all of gathered knowledge that the human mind has jvon
From the distant primal ages to the latest cycles run,
Very light of light within it, light nf truth if th;it be light;
Throwing gleams upon its pathway that erstwhile had slept in night,
This, this age finds its accuser in a lover of the past,
Blaming all our growing freedom, saying we have failed at last.
He who sang in early manhood songs that filled all men with strength,
Ends his singing, falls in darkness, lays his lyre down at length.
Broken spirit, broken purpose, all his nobler hope resigned;
Crying alter vanished shadows in the blindness of his mind.
Oh the woe, the silent anguish, when a heart that once was free,
Free in hope and free in purpose, murmurs "Night: I cannot see."
If the blind say in the mornina "Day is vanished it is ni^ht."
Is the morning's glory lessened? is there aught the less of light?
To us all the past is vanished ; to us comes a newer earth:
All the present days and deeds are but the pangs and throes of birth.
Say you there is more of sorrow; say you there is more of tears;
Backward turn your Ihoughts and borrow nobler days or grander years.
Nobler days; of truer purpose. Noblest days are those that find
Man through freedom working upward; granting kingship to the mind.
Wickedness, aye, yes and virtue: virtue for its own true sake;
Needing not the fear of hell to keep its little life awake.
Sadness, badness, yes we own it. Was the pa^t the better then?
Were men good for love of goodness, Or from fear of God and men?
Crave you happiness; deserve it by the greatness of vour lives;
He alone is truly happy who most truly lives and strives.
Is it better that a nation knows no wish but to obey?
Is the squalid, dumb agreement better than the righteous fray?
Shall we leave the larger ocean where the freer spirit strives
For the stagnant pool of custom with its scum of lying lives?
Is there woe and death; diseases feeding on earth's helpless brood?
Falter not then, ceaseless effort; that alone will bring the good.
Ask not thou if all are moving to the same ideal ends;
Blame not thou our larger freedom if the lower man descends.
Art thou moving toward the summit, dost thou hear the higher call,
Then thou shall not cease from lnbor though the stars and heavens fall.
They who learned the falser lessons stagger now the truth is known;
They who did their tasks with trembling shirk them now the fear is gone.
Truth is truth nor will it linger e'en to save a thousand lives;
Let it come; and you who fear it, back again into your hives!
THE OPEN COURT.
55
Progress from the thought that held mankind accursed, steeped in sin.
To the higher thought that points but to the soul's own law within,
Is not universal progress; not all men will love the high;
Many who through fear mocked virtue, now will grovel till they die.
Let them die; we will, not li >ger for the sake of those who need
Promises or threats to keep them in their little space of creed.
Freer souls must needs yearn upward, something dwelleth in the breast,
Making all the past seem sordid with a vision of the best.
Forward toward the perfect day, and forward toward the higher man;
Springs the greater from the lesser, 'twas for this our life began.
Man is holv, let him learn it, let him know the right of right;
Though it take a thousand seasons passed in struggle with the night.
Evolution: man's own effort is its very seed and strength;
By his striving it will conquer, bringing perfect day ;it length.
Oh the vast and mighty purpose, man and his true self apart;
Oh the thirst, the aspiration; Oh the throbbing human heart!
Visions fall upon my eyes ; I see the higher man ; his face
Set on the sun -path; see him moving, merging in the crowning race.
See him standing all transfigured on that far ideal height,
Gained at last to find new vistas stretching toward the infinite.
Oh the mystery of being! Oh the sacredness of man!
Oh the light of life within us! Oh the future we can scan!
Come the waves of deep emotion rolling silent through the soul — ;
Man is holy; let him learn it; he shall gain the perfect goal.
BOOK NOTICES.
Letters Medites de Mademoiselle de Lespinasse. Pub-
lished with new documents and line etude. By Charles Flettrw
E. Deuter, Galerie d'Orleans, Palais-Royal, 18S7.
Time evokes quaint contrasts in the march of centuries, and
the distance that " lends enchantment " gives to eighteenth cen-
tury chronicles a peculiar charm. From an esthetic as well as
literary point of view it was the great century of France. Then
it was that the national spirit had reached its most characteristic
expression; when classical ideals and foreign influence had
dissolved away in the birth of a new order and an individuality
sufficiently pronounced to cast its reflex throughout the civilized
world, gave to the nation its independent personality. It was the
eighteenth century that lifted France to her present rank as the
leader in modern arts (a reputation which modern artists seem
doing their best to forfeit). It was the eighteenth century that
popularized, through the trenchant, fascinating pens of its literary
lights, the new intellectual order destined to culminate in the
bloody tragedy of its close. The encyclopedists, the Voltaires and
the Rousseaus, are but types of the genius of the epoch when
France was a torch-light on the hill-top of civilization.
It is among the relics of this rich past that the materials of the
present volume were found. Those precious archives of unpub-
lished history — the great Paris libraries — are exhaustless fields
of such literary exploits. Old MSS. bequeathed in dying testa-
ments; biographical sketches too faithful to bear the light of
contemporaneous scrutiny ; autograph letters palpitating with
personal intimacies, designed only for private perusal. One alter
another these faded, worm-eaten, half-illegible souvenirs of a
society gone by are dragged from their hiding-places as national
heirlooms.
" The Kings of Egypt," says Cochin in his caustic criticism
of the Count de Caylus, "were not judged till after their
death; a wise provision, since no one would have dared to judge
them living." Thus is offered to public perusal, for the
first time, bits of personality, philosophic and political disserta-
tions, fragments of individual history, etc., which time alone
could render publishable. Legendary rehearsals of scenes in
which the actors come back like ghosts to repeat the old and even
new story of life's serio-comedy. The ambitious, the speculative,
the hopeful, the joyous and the suffering — each tells his tale.
In this last category may be ranged Mademoiselle de Lespi-
nasse. Born ignobly, though of noble parentage, given an
education calculated to intensify a native sensitiveness, and then
left fortuneless by the death of her fond, remorseful mother, just at
an age requiring guidance and protection, this young lady started
in society at evident odds; and yet she became^ at the age of 24,
one of its pivots.
In the salon of Madame DefTand, the scene of her first success,
she became the center of a coterie, which later, when the jeal-
ousy of her protectress determined their separation, grew into a
wider circle. Here came Turgot, the Count de Guibert, the Count
de Crillon and the " bon " Condorcet, to whom she writes with
such solicitude: "Spare your eyes and take frequent baths.
They will cool your blood overheated by work." For twenty
years the salon of Mademoiselle de Lespinasse was the resort of
talent and rank. " D'Alembert drew and she held," was said of
these two friends whose lives were closely associated for years;
a tie severed for d'Alembert only by her death.
And yet, despite this social success — the admiration of an
ilite world by the force of that personality which made her
queen in her realm — Mademoiselle de Lespinasse was an unhappy
woman. One of that vast multitude victimized by blind senti-
ment, she wasted her best powers in a fatal alternation between
passion and remorse. Her restless soul, bewildered by an imagi-
nation forever pursuing phantoms, knew no peace, and the strain
proved too much for her physical organization. She fell into a
state of melancholy which led rapidly to the end, hastened,
probably, by her own hands.
The letters, inspired by this state of depression, are profound
psychological studies. It would be impossible, without quoting
extensively from them, to give the varied shades of this sad
spirit. She grew touchingly candid at the close of her career,
and her last letter to d'Alembert — the patient, devoted lover
through every phase — lays bare the woman's soul. One feels
that every disguise is here thrown aside in the agony of a
supreme, final moment.
It is at six o'clock in the morning, a few days before her
death, that she writes :
" I owe you everything. I am so sure of your friendship that
I exert all my remaining force to sustain a life in which there is
for me no longer hope or fear. For my sorrow there is neither
remedy nor consolation, and yet I feel that I owe you a prolonga-
tion of these days which inspire me with horror.
"Nevertheless, I cannot count on my will. It may give way
to my dispair; and I take the precaution to write to ask you to
burn, without reading, all the papers in the large black forte-
feuiUe. I should die to look upon the writing of mon ami (the
Count de Mora, then dead). I have also in my pocket a rose-
colored fortc-feuille containing his letters that I pray you to burn.
Do not read them, but keep his portrait for my sake. * * * *
Farewell, my friend ; do not regret me. Think that in leaving this
world I find a repose I can no longer hope for here. * * * *
My death is but a proof of my love for Monsieur de Mora, while
his has proven a response to my sentiment deeper than I ever
thought.
"Alas! when you read this I shall be delivered of the weight
that is crushing me. * * * * I wish to be buried with the
ring I have on my finger. Farewell, my friend, forever!"
Poor d'Alembert. How much the revelation contained in
the dying appeal of his friend must have added to the poignancy
of his bereavement. The nature of his sentiment for her is
nobly expressed in his effusion: "To the shades of Mademoiselle
de Lespinasse" where he says: "Alas! I have lost with you
sixteen years of my life."
He it was, the unwearied friend through all the vicissitudes of
her restless career, and to him was left the execution of her last
56
THE OPEN COURT.
will and testament, which begins with a request that six hours
after her death her head shall be opened by a surgeon of " La
Charite," or any other hospital, and that she may be buried as a
pauper, " without being exposed under the doorway."
Proud and passionate to the end, the last hours of this
unhappy woman are a strange mingling of strength and weak-
ness. There is now nothing left her but to die — she must die.
On the night of Mav 23, 1776, friends gather about her bed-
side, knowing it is the end, and the loss seems to them irrepara-
ble. With a supreme effort she begs d'Alembert to forgive her
and falls back unconscious.
Her last words were those of an American statesman : " Do I
still live!"
John B. Alden, New York, has recently issued the first vol-
umes of a new edition of Guizot's "History of France" in hand-
some dark morocco, the edges neatly marbled. Price for the
entire set, to consist of eight uniform volumes, $6.00 per set.
Other new publications by the same publisher are a small "Handy
Atlas of the World," containing nearly juo pages, with a map on
every second page, the opposite page being occupied with descrip-
tion and statistics. Also Drummond's "Natural Law in the
Spiritual World," which Bishop Doane calls " a great work."
Nearly 200 pp.; cloth, 40 cts.
We welcome to our exchange table, with much pleasure, the
first number of The Chicago Law Times, a handsome quarterly
magazine of over 100 pages, edited by a woman, Mrs. Catherine
V. Waite of this city. Of the dozen leading articles which it
contains three are by women: " Chief Justice Chase," by Mrs.
H. M. Tracy Cutler, which is accompanied by a fine frontispiece
portrait; "Women Jurors in Washington Territory," by LeliaJ.
Robinson, L.L.B., and "Admission of Women to the Bar,"
by Ellen A. Martin. 11 future numbers keep up to the high
level of this first one, the magazine will be not only a credit to
the lady who edits it, but to the legal profession at large.
St. Nicholas for March is as breezy in tone as the month is
expected to be in weather. Among its many delightful things in
the way of pictures, stories, etc., are continuations of the Mexican
story, "Juan and Juanita," an Alaskan story ; an interesting bit
of biography in "The Boyhood of Thomas Bailey Aldrich," now
editor of the Atlantic Monthly, and a new "Brownie" poem and
pictures, by Palmer Cox.
Surfeited as we are with the reminiscences and letters of
our traveling scribes, we welcome none the less heartily what
Oliver Wendell Holmes begins to tell us, in the Atlantic for
March, of " Our Hundred Days in Europe," confident that he will
make us feel, ere its close, that that time is all too limited for our
pleasure in the recital. James Breck Perkins gives a sketch of
Theophile Gautier, the French critic; "Longfellow's Art" is
criticised and enlarged upon by H. E. Scudder; "The Hippo-
lytos of Euripides" is the subject of an article by W. C. Lawton,
and Agnes Repplier lias a bright and readable paper on "The
Curiosities of Criticism." There are poems by James Russell
Lowell, Louise Chandler Moulton and others, of which the best
is "Blindfold," by Andrew Hedbrooke. "The Lady from Maine,"
a short story, is concluded in this number. The continued stories
are by Crawford, and the combination novel by Mrs. Oliphant
and the editor of the Atlantic.
The Century for March is quite an art number. Mr. W.J.
Stillman, the art critic, has an article on "The Coinage of the
Greeks," from the artistic point of view. The third of Mr.
Brownell's notes on " French Sculptors," in this number, has four
full page illustrations, examples of the work of Barrias, Delaplanche,
Le Feuvre and Fremiet. The introductory paper is given of Mrs.
Van Rensselaer's series on "The Cathedrals of England," which
is said to be one of the most important art enterprises ever under-
taken by this magazine. An article by John T. Stoddard, on
" Composite Photography," which gives several examples of the
combined loveliness of the "sweet girl-graduates" of Smith
College, blending each class into one mysterious whole. Of one
of these composites, the " Lounger," in a late Critic says: " It was
a peculiar, a rather uncanny sensation that I experienced in
gazing at these nine-and-forty sweet girl-graduates baked into a
photographic pie, as -it were, and served at a Barmacide feast
where one might see and scent the savory dish, yet must forever
fail to taste it. It struck me that a writer like Mr. Stockton
might make much of the idea of a sentimental young man's
quest in Northampton of the original of this portrait, and his
being beset by faces singularly like, yet in no instance identical
with, the one that had charmed him. I make the suggestion
now, without charge to any one who cares to act on it and is
competent to do so." A second paper on "Faith-Healing and its
Phenomena," by Rev. Dr. J. M. Buckley, is preceded by an arti-
cle by Mr. R. Kelso Carter, one of the leading disciples of the
faith-cure. The Lincoln history is given considerable space, and
the one complete story is by Geo. W. Cable.
OPINIONS OF THE OPEN COURT.
Capital is the lust number of The Open Court. — Prof. W. D. Gunning.
I like the appearance of The Open Court very much. It is neat and unos-
tentatious. I prefer the smaller size of the page, and the wider space between
the lines is also an improvement. Desp te Mr. Abbott's injunction, it is the
Index resuscitated under more propitious conditions. The old companions are
all there. I thought it very considerate of you to let your former colleague to
have as usual the honor of opening the Court. What serious and arduous work
you have now before you. To establish Ethic and Religion npoji a scientific
basis. It is the greatest of all reformatory tasks. — Dr. Edmund Montgomery.
Your new craft sails well and has good freight. — Thomas Davidson.
Your first number is here and looks finely.— M. J. Savage.
I have glanced at The Open Court, like its exterior, form, paper, type, its
tout ensemble, and also the articles under the different headings, as now only
glanced at. Hope the O. C. will succeed in bringing much folly to deserved
judgment and condign punishment. — Wm. Zimmerman, Chicago.
The Open Court is received. It is evidently going to have some of the
good things which gave value to the Index. — Chas. Eaton, Toledo, O.
Came duly in receipt of No. 1. Am highly gratified with its appearance and
contents. It is an honor to the great cause of Humanity and Reform. Shall do
my best to obtain subscribers for you. — Otto Wittstein, Rochelle, III.
I was so mournful for the old Index, hut it seems to me that a phcenix is
arising from the old ashes that bids fair to wear more attractive plumage than
even the dear Index. * * I have not yet read thoroughly Mr. Hegeler's
Essay, but I am sure I like it pretty well, at least.
Lita Bai'NEY Sayles, Killingly, Conn.
I have just finished reading the sample first number of vour Journal and it is
not to natter when I say it more than pleases me. It contains several articles
of, it seems to me, great merit. Especially that of my namesake, Mr. Potter,
" The Need for Free-thought Education," is very timely and should be repeated
by every Liberal paper in the country. — A. L. Potter, I. a Mott, la.
The first number of The Open Court is full of promise of a great and
useful future. — T. P. Wilson, M. D., Ann Arbor, Mich.
The first number of The OrEN Court has a cordial welcome. Clean it
looks, clear and bright it is. — F. A. Angell, Montclair, NT. J.
The Open Court,
A Fortnightly Journal,
Devoted to the Work of Establishing Ethics and Religion Upon a Scientific Basis.
Vol. I. No.
CHICAGO, MARCH 17, 1887.
t Three Dollars per Year.
1 Single Copies, 15 cts.
THE ART OF MAKING POVERTY.
BY M. M. TRUMBULL.
Part I.
It is a grievous fact and "a grievous fault" that
much poverty exists in the United States to-day. That
it ought not to exist in a land of such abundance is
plain. The extent of it is beginning to cause alarm
and some people think thev hear the rumblings of a
social earthquake near at hand. Reformers moralize
about this poverty and seek to relieve it in a superficial
way, hut the art and privilege of making it are " vested
rights," which may not be disturbed. So many people
of influence are interested in the business of making
poverty, that laws are enacted for their especial benefit,
which all the political parties promised to maintain. To
make poverty is the work of Congress, of the State Leg-
islatures, of the Knights of Labor Parliament, of the
Trades Union Councils and of the local statutes passed
by all the mercantile, professional and industrial asso-
ciations, from the lawyers and doctors down to the
" brotherhoods " of carpet-layers, car-drivers and scav-
engers.
So much poverty is concealed by pride and self-
respect, that the full extent of it is not easy to know.
The most reliable measure of it that we are likely to
get is found in the recent leport of Mr. Carroll D.
Wright, Commissioner of Labor. In this report, which
is official and rather conservative, Mr. Wright expresses
the opinion that there are one million working men out
of employment in the L>nited States, seven and a half
per cent, of all the men ordinarily engaged in agricul-
ture, trade and transportation, mechanical and mining
industries and manufactures. This is probably an
under estimate, but even thus, it exposes a substratum
of poverty in our social system quite sufficient to
account for the present unrest and discontent of labor.
By this estimate we can measure the dimensions and
extent of the distress and crime which now abound in
that curious mixture of contrasts which we call the civil-
ization of the nineteenth century. It gives results as
truly as the merchants yardstick. It proves that the
other millions who are not out of work are insufficiently
paid. A million idle workmen looking for a job must
lower the wages of all those who are at work, first,
by force of competition, and secondly, because they
add nothing to the aggregate wealth out of which all
wages must be paid. A million of workers out of
work means a surplus of human muscle, an overpro-
duction of men. A million of artisans and laborers so
cheap as to be worth nothing, must cheapen all the rest.
If only one-half of them are married, we behold a
half a million women and a million children hungry.
In this low plane of poverty we find the recruiting sta-
tions for a great army of sports, and tramps, and thieves.
Dr. Watts himself never suspected how much political
truth was wrapped up in his warning to lazy bovs, that
"Satan always finds some work lor idle hands to do."
He only spoke to willing idlers in that song, but the
moral of his verse will apply to unwilling idlers too.
Taking income as the standard of life, we shall find
that the magnetic power of this substratum is great
enough to drag down every class in the community one
degree lower in the scale of living than it ought to be,
excepting the limited classes for whose benefit the pov-
erty is made.
To divert ourselves and others from this gloomy
spectacle, we beat the patriot gong; we call attention
to the multiplying riches of the land; we boast of the
height of our steeples and the splendor of our palaces.
It is the daily task of newspapers to dazzle us with
golden rhetoric, to describe for us the glory of the dia-
monds that sparkled at Mrs. Plutus's reception, and
the profusion of the midnight feast that tilled a thous-
and guests with terrapin and wine. We borrow the
cloak of Dives to hide the sores of Lazarus, and boast
that we have cured them; but the sores are still there;
their poison taints the air we live in and multiplies the
Lazaruses. With amiable goodness we organize charity,
found as\ lums, endow reformatories, and having
prescribed for the symptoms, we neglect the disease.
We leave in active operation the social and political
machinery that creates the poverty. We make the
greedy doctrine of ''self-preservation " the active prin-
ciple of life, and for our social code we borrow the
ethics of the fishes in the sea. We devour one another,
and call our civilized cannibalism an act of "self-pres-
ervation." When we grow rich at the expense of
others, we pity them, as the victims, not of us, but
of that lately-discovered law called the survival of the
fittest. A comforting philosophy teaches us that we
survive, not because of cunning, strength and appetite.
5§
THE OPEN COURT.
but because we are the " fittest. " " The world owes me
a living," says the tramp, "and I'm agoing to have it."
We call that a low sentiment, and easily prove that it
is morally unsound, but if we follow the trail of it
upward through its devious windings in and out, even
to Plutus's parlor, we shall rind that it is the inspiration
of much that we dignify as " business." '1 o restore the
social health we must unmake the poverty. We must
reverse the machinery of self-preservation and direct it
to the preservation of us all.
From the etherial regions of sentimental philan-
thropy we must descend to the prosy earth. We must
discuss the moral qualities of such coarse thing as taxes,
wages, rent, bread, fuel, clothes. These may be unin-
spiring themes, but in the relations they bear to politics
ami law, we shall find the mitigation, if not the cure,
of poverty. The working man's poverty is absolute
and relative. Absolute in his want of money, rela-
tive in the dearness of what he must buy. Whatever
deprives him of work, whatever lowers his wages,
whatever increases the cost of existence to him and his
family, helps to make him poor. Taxes weaken him,
though his name is not found on the assessor's books.
1 Le is not classed as a "tax-payer," even when he pays
most of the taxes. Out of the proceeds of his labor a
very large proportion of the taxes must be paid before
we come down to the wages-fund at all. The city,
county and State taxes may seem to concern him not,
but he will find them in the rent he pays for his tene-
ment, and in the price of whatever he buys at the store.
That the laborer is such a " heavy tax-payer " is one of
the chief causes of his penury. The layer of poverty at
the base of our social system grows thicker and thicker
in the direct ratio of increasing taxation.
Here we come to a serious obstacle in the way of
social reform, the claim of the politicians to a monopoly
of party questions, or whatever for the time being they
choose to regard as " politics." The political econo-
mist, the professor of social science, and the teacher of
moral pholosophy, are all warned off the premises occu-
pied by the "two great parties." The intruders obey
the warning, partly because they recognize the claim,
and partly because they themselves fear to be classed as
politicians. The domain of social science includes
every political question, and the methods of taxation are
not the exclusive property of partisan conventions.
Political economy is nothing more than household
economy enlarged to the dimensions of the nation.
Fearing to enter the domain of politics, reformers con-
fine themselves to the task of soothing pain, instead of
curing it. They strive to ease distress by acts of
charity, leaving the big driving-wheel that makes the
poverty to whirl round and round forever. They
moralize instead of reversing the engine, because they
think that only the partv boss has any right to touch it,
and they are afraid to " speak to the man at the wheel."
They talk to classes numbering millions, as if they were
talking to two men. They advise employers to be just
to the employed, and they tell the employed to recipro-
cate the justice. They forget that in the competition
of business the selfish men dictate the policy of all. The
law makes giants, and then kind-hearted moralists quote
Shakespeare to them, and remind them that,
"Tis well to have :i giant's strength,
But tyrannous to use it like :t giant."
In their admiration for the sentiment, they do not notice
that it is philosophically unsound, because in actual
competition a giant cannot use his strength to its full
advantage in any other way than " like a giant." In
discussing social remedies and the causes that make
poverty, we must consider not only the personal vices of
improvidence and drink, but the public vices which lie
concealed in the extent and methods of taxation, ami in
the methods of the •' self-preservation " societies of
every degree.
Our grammar admits of three degrees of compari-
son, and in analogy we separate society into three
classes, the upper, lower and middle. Each of these,
however, may be subdivided into a hundred different
grades of " quality." We have many flights of social
stairs rising one above another, from the abject plane
of mere hopeless animal existence, to the gorgeous
upper floor whose velvet carpets are trodden only by
millionaires. The purpose of life is to climb from the
stair we occupy now to the one above. Our method of
doing it is to pull down those on the upper step to
make room for ourselves, and to push down those on
our own level to the tier directly below. This is called
the "struggle for existence," the "battle of life."
While there is much varying fortune in the conflict, and
many ups and downs, yet the killed and wounded in our
present social war far outnumber in four years the losses
inflicted by the civil war from 1S61 to 1865. The cost
of the social war, in actual wealth, dwarfs the cost of
the civil war to nothing. Where opportunities are
unequal, the balance of advantage in this fight must be
with wealth and cunning. In this elbowing and hust-
ling, thousands of the "unfittest" are crowded lower
and lower down even to the bottom step, and from
there into the pit of actual want; aye, into that lower
deep still where pestilence breeds, and out of whose
dingy slums crime sallies forth at night.
Combination to limit production and increase prices,
is an active maker of poverty. Aided by the principle
of exclusion or the " freeze-out " process, its mischiev-
ous operation is very great. The consolidation of
capital into "pools" is continually reducing the number
of "hirers" and adding to the number of the "hired."
As to the self-employer, he is rapidly becoming extinct.
Time was when an energetic man, with a set of tools
THE OPEN COURT.
59
and a trade, could start for himself and make his own
living ; he can rarely do so now, except as a cobbler and
mender. He is crowded into the ranks of the "hired,"
to intensify the struggle for existence among them.
This, too, is the impending fate of the smaller manu-
facturers and of nearly all the business classes of limited
capital.
Combinations to limit production and increase prices
are criminal by the moral law, and yet they are encour-
aged and assisted by the statutes of the land. The trib-
ulations of a lump of coal in its travels from the mine to
the mechanic's grate, furnish dramatic evidence of the
poverty-making ability of these combinations.
Before the mine-owners will allow a pick to touch
the coal, thev require that seventy-five cents a ton
be added to the price of it by Act of Congress. This
•done, they, instead of making coal plentiful by going to
work and developing the mines in competition with
each other, actually form a "pool" and agree to limit
production in order to make it scarce. They literally
make an "allotment" to each member in the syndicate
of the quantity he shall mine. They then fix the price
at which the coal shall be sold: By this time the lump
•of coal is out of the ground and ready to be sent to the
market. Here the railroads are taken into the con-
spiracy, and they agree to assist the syndicate by
discriminating tariffs against all competitors. To com-
pensate them, a few cents more must be added to the
price of coal. The lump now gets to the wholesale
market where the wholesale merchants dump it into
another " pool," which they have made for their own
monopoly. They add another artificial price to it by
various boycotting devices, and especially by forbidding
mine-owners to sell directly to the retail trade. The
lump of coal now passes into the " pool " of the retail
dealers, who have already formed a combination to boy-
cott the wholesale dealers if they dare to sell directly to
the consumers. The retail dealers fix the final price
of the lump of coal. At every step of its way, from
the coal-cellar where nature stored it away in the ages
long ago, to the stove in the poor man's home, an
unnatural piece has been added to the lump of coal by
artificial methods in violation of good morals and con-
trary to public policy. At every stage of its progress
honest men, who would not join the syndicates, and poor
men, who could not join them, have been " frozen out"
and driven into other business, or else into the over-
crowded ranks of the hired classes, or else into the
army of idlers and the inevitable "pool" of poverty.
The above example may be multiplied by nearly the
full number of articles necessary for existence. Like
the lump of coal, everything we use, from the wheat in
th» stack to the washerwoman's paper of starch, is put
to the torture at every step of its progress from the
place of its production to the consumer's home. The
result of the process in the manufacture of a very
troublesome grade of poverty. A few specimens, taken
at random from the newspapers, will show the method
and quality of the work. The " Barbed Wire Men "
met at the Sherman House in Chicago, Nov. 17, 1S85.
It was announced that "the object of the meeting was
to effect the formation of a strong pool which would
completely control the production of the entire wire
manufacturing interests of the country and arrange an
unalterable scale of prices to which all must adhere. It
was resolved that a curtailment of the product was the
only means to maintain high prices and enable the
manufacturers to reap corresponding profits."
On the 15th of June, 1S86, at Erie, Pa., there was a
meeting of " The Tarred Felt Paper Association " The
dispatch announcing the meeting, says : " There were
represented in person and by proxy a capital of $22,-
000,000, which was pooled for one year. It is believed
that it is the intention to crowd out the small manufact-
urers.''''
On the 14th of April, 1886, a meeting of starch
manufacturers was held at Chicago. The report of
it says: "The specific object of the meeting was to
form a pool to control the price of starch. For several
months past this article has been cheaper than is strictly
necessary for the benefit of the manufacturers, and the
scheme is to form a combination strong enough to brace
up the prices. It was not definitely decided whether to
limit the product of each manufactory to a certain pro-
portion of its capacity, or to adopt some other method
of retrenchment."
On the 10th of February, 1SS6, " The Western
Wooden Ware Manufacturers" met in Chicago. Here
is an extract from the report of the proceedings: " The
prevailing schedule of prices and productio?! was
ordered to remain in full force until the quarterly meet-
ing, when a general overhauling of prices will be had,
and those who are accused of underselling will be called
to a strict accountability."
The following is an extract from a report of the
proceedings of the " Mattress Makers " : " The manufact-
urers of woven-wire mattresses yesterday completed
the arrangements for the formation of a permanent
organization to control the trade in their particular line
of goods. The combination will be called the National
Wire Mattress and Spring Bed Association, and will
have for its object the mutual protection of its members,
and will exercise full control over the percentage of
production and the regulation of market prices for
goods."
These are a few specimens that might be multiplied
indefinitely. They are enough to show some of the
evils of the social war. To limit production is to limit
the sum total of possible wealth, and thereby to make
poverty. To increase prices by making scarcity adds
6o
THB OPBN COURT.
to the cost of existence. This to the rich man is an
inconvenience, to the man of moderate means a hard-
ship, to the laborer hunger, cold, and sickness. It is
well for us that some of those conspiracies fail, but it is
deplorable that many of them succeed, and the aggregate
result of them is a vast quantity of machine-made pov-
erty that needs only organization and leadership to
smite society as the hammer of Watt Tyler smote the
tax-gatherer. We thank the Creator for abundance, and
then make laws and regulations to promote scarcity.
To make dearness is to make poverty, to limit produc-
tion is to throw laborers out of work and into destitu-
tion.
The fiercest fighting on this unnatural battle-field is
not over there on the right flank where capital and
labor are contending, nor over yonder on the left where
organized monopolies in battalion columns are trampling
down all weaker competition, and all independent
rivalry; it is right here in the center of the field where
labor is wasting its powers in a senseless wrestle with
labor. The so-called " conflict " between capital and
labor is mere friendly emulation when compared with
the bigoted conflict between labor and labor. Shaped
into trades-union legislation the jealousy of working
men toward each other is an active make of poverty.
THE RIGHTS OF THOSE WHO DISLIKE TOBACCO.
UV ANNA GARI.IN SPENCER.
A woman, not overstrong, and tired with a year's
hard work, starts for a sea-shore resort to spend the
summer vacation and get rested and well. She first
takes a comfortable seat in a parlor-car. At the end of"
the car and near her chair is partitioned off a select
" smokers' apartment." The fumes from within that en-
closure steal out and make her feel ill. She asks of the
porter the privilege of exchanging her seat for one
further removed from this smokers' apartment. Her
request fortunately can be granted. She makes herself
comfortable once more, with an inward protest against
the favoritism which allows smokers to so nearly defraud
her of the better air, for which, together with the more
room, she has paid her extra fare. A seat next to her
new resting-place is vacant, but she sees a bag and
papers which indicate that it has an occupant to come.
Soon the owner of the seat appears. He has been hav-
ing a chat with friends and a smoke in the " regular,"
not the parlor-car " smoker." His clothing and person
are saturated with old and new flavors of the weed. He
removes a heavy woolen coat, and puts on a cool
"duster." The coat is hung on the hook next our trav-
eler, and the air from the ventilator which she has had
opened for her benefit, wafts its condensed aroma directly
to her nostrils. By and by a gentleman from the "par-
lor-car smoker " comes in, and greets cordially the gen-
tleman from the " regular smoker," and asks him " to have
a game" in the little room sacred to the smoking-clan;
and all the while he is talking about matters and things.
in general, leaves the door of said apartment open. The
woman traveler begs the porter to " shut that door."
As he does so the two men look at her as if she must be
a trifle peculiar. They then leave her for their game,
and doubtless another smoke; to return in a half-hour,
take seats on either side of her, and industriously
"season" her with breath and clothing to the secondary
aroma of pipe and cigar. An aching head and a rebel-
lious stomach almost forbid brain exercise, but the suf-
ferer cannot help starting a train of wondering some-
thing after this fashion: "Wonder why the same mo: ey
buys a non-smoker, or any man, the use of two and even
three seats- -one in the regular smoker, one in the par-
lor-car smoker, and one in the ordinary or parlor-car,
and buys a woman only one seat? Wonder why the
railroad officials don't secure the woman that one free
from tobacco smoke? Wonder if smokers know how
offensive they make themselves to many people? Wonder
if they would care if they did know? Wonder if there
is anything in 'the weed' which makes men less gentle-
manly, as they assuredly are, respecting smoking than in
any other particular? Wonder if there is any place this
side of heaven where one can breathe pure air?"
At this point her station of exchange for another
road is reached, and our traveler goes from the hot car
into a stifling little waiting-room. A card in the ladies'
room says " no smoking allowed," but the gentleman's
room is divided from her waiting-place only by an open
archway, and almost all the occupants of it seem inclined
to the favorite "nerve-soother."
After a little more car travel the steamboat is reached
which is to take the Pilgrim to her destination. Even
the "ancient and fish-like smell " of the wharf is refresh-
ing, and with delight she establishes herself on the for-
ward deck, which will be the shady and breezy end of
the boat when the steamer turns out into the broad bay.
A seat is selected where the back can be rested against
the walls of the upper saloon, and with only a few heads
in sight, and those of strangers who are naught to herT
and who do not much obstruct her view, our traveler's
joy begins. "The sea, the opaline, the beautiful, the
strong," what a magic cure is it for the headache and the
heart-weariness and the temper-annoyance. The breeze
freshens, the billows dance, the swell grows heavier.
Ah! this is life! What grateful thoughts well up in
answer to nature's bounty of healing and of joy. Worth
while is the strain and stress of laborious days if by them
one earn the right to so enjov this glorious summer
world !
Just at this moment of content and happiness, the
quick senses of the traveler detect the familiar and hated
THE OPEN COURT.
6 1
tobacco smoke. There is her neighbor of the parlor-
car. He is indulging in another cigar. He leans over
the rail in front of his victim, and puffs and puffs his
column of airy contamination right into the sea breezes
which were so full of healing for body and mind but a
minute before. The glory is gone. The little tobacco
fiend gains a speedy victory over great nature's purity
and peace.
The purser comes around, and " Is smoking allowed
on this boat?" is the dispairing question.
" Yes'm, on this forrard part. There's nobody smok-
in' at the other end."
" But the other end is sunny and has no breeze. Here
is where I wish to stay, and," raising her voice a little,
" tobacco smoke is very disagreeable to me and makes
me ill."
"Sorry, num. Perhaps you'd like to go into the
saloon. Ladies mostly do."
The saloon! Hot, stuffy, and with a party of excur-
sionists dancing as nimbly as the motion of the boat will
allow, to the wheezes of a parlor organ from which an
unwilling waltz is being coaxed! Saloon, indeed!
The gentleman with the cigar has heard the remon-
strance and gallantly throws the end of his cigar into the
sea, but looks as if a woman who "would make a fuss
over a good cigar in a public place" was beneath con-
tempt.
A little peace, and then three men sit near the rail of
the lower deck and smoke. And several promenaders
come and go with pipes and cigars and the traveler
gives it up, she can keep her seat no longer.
She perches herself on the outermost seat of the
deck, hanging to the rail in most uncomfortable fashion,
still fighting for pure air.
At last the journey is ended; the hotel reached; the
good supper dispatched with an already quickened appe-
tite; and the piazza, which has been recommended as
among the chief attractions of the place, is eagerly
sought. It is indeed an entrance-way to one of nature's
grandest temples. The fierce hot day is going out gently
to meet the lovely night. A broad stretch of heaving
sea mirrors the gorgeous sunset sky, and the trees near
the cliff-walk show grand and gloomy in the twilight.
" Perfect," sighs the traveler in blissful praise.
But here comes the crowd of people from the dining-
room. And ten out of the fourteen men light cigars
and seat themselves within a few feet of our new-comer.
She must either endure the sickening annoyance, or go
in out of the glory; into her little close room which is
not on the " view " side of the house. She is too tired
to walk beyond the range of her tormentors to-night;
but she foresees that she will have to do that all the sum-
mer or lose her sunset beaut}'. Is it any wonder that
her blissful mood is again destroyed when she considers
that she is paving as much for the privilege of being
driven from the common piazza as these men are for
using it?
Men and brethren, ought these things so to be?
Is there not a question of right involved in a con-
dition which bears so hardly upon one side and gives
the other so vast an advantage? Why should the smoker
be given, or take, the mean privilege of driving from
comfort to misery all those who dislike tobacco, even in
the most public places? Can anyone explain on prin-
ciples of justice, or good-breeding, the right of the
smoker to render the air of cars, steamboats, public
coaches, hotels and boarding-houses, and all other places
where he elects to be, disagreeable and often sickening?
It has been truly said that "smoking is the only vice that
all people are compelled to share the effects of in their
own persons." If my neighbor drinks whisky I am -not
obliged to take even a drop into my system. But if my
neighbor smokes, I am obliged, as long as he remains
my neighbor on the piazza or other place of resort, to
inhale some of the poison he is consuming. There is
much to say about the pecuniary waste and physical
harm of tobacco-using as a personal habit. But the sole
purpose of this article is to draw attention to the infringe-
ment upon the rights of those who dislike tobacco, per-
petrated by tobacco-users, and sanctioned by those who
cater to a tobacco-using public. This aspect of the
question has passed beyond the boundaries of taste, or
preference, or conventional good manners. It has
entered the domain of ethics. The point now to be
determined is in brief this: Have those who dislike
tobacco any rights which tobacco-users are bound to
respect ?
If my neighbors in the city like the smell of decay-
ing garbage about their houses, or think it wholesome
and pleasant to keep a dirty pig in the cellar, I can com-
plain of them to the sanitary authorities, and have the
nuisance removed, in spite of their personal tastes in the
matter. But if I take a sick baby into the country for
pure air and wholesome surroundings, and the inmate of
the room next mine chooses to poison the atmosphere of
his own and my apartment through the open windows
and thin partitions with a nasty pipe, or a meaner cigar-
ette, I have probably no redress but to change my board-
ing-place. So debauched is the public conscience in this
regard that any complaint of the omnipresent pollution
is considered a foolish personal idiosyncrasy, to be disre-
garded as soon and as often as desired. It is considered
by the majority of hotel -keepers, railroad and steamboat
officials and servants, and all who purvey to the taste of
travelers and boarders, that the smoker has the right,
and that the complainant is seeking to enforce a peculiar
hobby of his own. The good-natured smoker will
throw away his cigar if you frankly say it is disagree-
able to you, but he very evidently thinks he is making
concession to an extraordinary weakness on your part,
62
THE OPEN COURT.
anil that that weakness will soon make you as disagree-
able in his eyes as his cigar can be in your nostrils.
It is high time that this inversion of the principles of
right was exposed to just light. It is high time that the
man who uses a public place for the indulgence of a
private habit which is positively injurious and disagree-
able to many, who have paid as high a price for their
use of that public place as he, should understand that lie
is iltc'off aider against right and propriety, and not the
person who complains of his pipe or cigar. It is high
time that petitions setting forth the injustice of the present
favoritism shown tobacco-users were presented to all who
now pander to this false sentiment and discrimination,
and the rights of those who want pure air insisted upon.
We cannot hope to cleanse our streets of the filth
and foul air that smokers and chewers torment the cleanly
with. It may be too much to ask that the man who
elects the smoking-car for the first half of his journey
be forced to stay in it for the second half, rather than to
make himself a nuisance to some one else. But at least,
let us "strike" for the abolition of the smokers' apart-
ment in the parlor-car, and for unconditional prohibition
of smoking in and about the pleasantest places of resort
in hotels, and public parks, and gardens, and all the
nooks and corners where the non-smoking class most do
congregate. And let this be demanded as a right; not
begged as a kindness.
CHATS WITH A CHIMPANZEE.
P.Y MON'CCRE I). CONWAY.
Part I.
On a fair day I found myself in Benares, sacred city
of the Hindus. I had seen, many cities built by men,
but now for the first time beheld one built by gods. It
is a City of Temples, and houses ministrant to temples.
It has no trade save in gods. Its population is a pro-
cession of pilgrims which started out in immemorial
time; every day a new population following that which
departs, while outside may be seen through the night the
watch-fires of those who on the morrow will fill street
and temple, kneel at a thousand shrines, consult the
oracular well, buy gilt gods with shell currency, receive
baptism in the Ganges, partake of sacramental food,
offer sacrifices, and pass onward. As I wander through
the streets, stopping here and there to purchase little
deities, or float slowly on the Ganges, some vista opens
occasionally into my own past. Once I too knelt
with that ashen fakir before Siva, — the Consuming Fire.
These throngs whom priests are immersing — have I not
seen them in the Rappahannock river? Have I not
tasted those little eucharistic cakes blest and distributed
to the " new creature," who, born again of the water
and spirit, must eat onlv divine food, manna, wild
honey? How often to-day have I seen John the Baptist
clad in camel's hair? The pyre is aflame. The widows,
no more permitted to ascend in the fire-chariot with their
lords, bathe in the river near by. One body the pariahs
are burying — one that died of small-pox. The Small-
pox is, bv euphemism, a deity; it is angry if any form
whereof it takes possession is burnt, and its sacred self
scorched. Therefore, here is the one exception to cre-
mation. Small-pox superstitions are not confined to
India; thousands of Canadian peasants believe, it is said,
that they who suffer that disease receive a certain con-
secration— no doubt a survival from the Hindu faith.
Indeed, as I roam through Benares, few incomprehen-
sible things meet my eye. I carry a large bunch of old
keys, gathered from the spiritual lands through which
my own pilgrimage has led me, one or another of
which, with some filing, will fit the most complex of
these ancestral locks. But these keys, long kept in my
mental museum, unlock similar doors to dissimilar scenes
in East and West. Behind the Western altar and
sacrament are substantial secularities; the old charms
are turned to uses not evolved from them, just as my
purse-full of cowries (shells) turn into brass idols, unre-
lated to the mollusks that shaped them. In London or
New York my creed or sacrament shall bring me vari-
ous profit and promise of the life that now is. But here
at Benares the creed and sacrament are not cast shells
turned to currency; they are alive; the whole of human
life is turned into an inorganic formation on which dwell
and move forms fossilized in the West, or represented
if at all in some fanatical lusus natures.
One morning I thought I had made a discovery. I
set out before me the gods and goddesses purchased at
their bazaar on the previous day, and meditated on them.
I thought of the masses I had seen almost treading one
on the other to get near the images here copied, — the
Destroyer, the elephant-headed god, and other monstrosi-
ties; above all the hideous Kali, skull-girt, blood-lap-
ping, in one hand a sword in the other a cut-off head.
Then a little monkey-god caught my eve, and the secret
of the whole thing flashed on me. What I was wit-
nessing at Benares stood revealed as a survival of super-
stitions not merely pre-historic but pre-human! It was
the ancient anthropoid beliefs which man had here
inherited, and embodied in symbols and shrines.
Thereupon it occurred to me that I had not yet
visited one of the most famous temples in Benares, or
even in India — the Monkey Temple. Straightway I
summoned my interpreter, a Mohammedan, and jour-
neyed to that Temple. Near the outer door the pave-
ment was wet with blood of the morning sacrifice; I
had to pick my way to the entrance. A priest met me
and threw around my neck a wreath of yellow flowers,
—nasturtium-like, — which rendered me sacred enough
to enter. At an inner door a pretty boy appeared
THE OPEN COURT.
63
holding a salver piled with honey-cakes and sweet-
meats, of the kind desired hv monkeys. I bought a
liberal allowance and was conducted within. My inter-
preter, remembering from a previous ramble my inter-
est in Sacred Trees, guided me to a huge and very
ancient one in the farther court, around which holy men
were engaged in austerities. In the hollow of that tree
lay a monkey and her new-born babe. I saw the
mother's soft eves looking out* without fear. Before
my vision rose a scene of some simian cult, out of which
that of cruel Kali could hardly be developed. This
was better than butchering kids before a fury. I felt
a thrill of happv emotion that beyond the blood-stained
pavement I had found this consecration of the maternal
principle even in the humblest beginnings of our race.
But my new theory was slightly shaken.
From this point we passed into the main court. The
temple mainly consists of roofless courts within courts:
into the roofed parts I did not enter. Here was a won-
drous, a charming scene! Hundreds of monkevs were
engaged in their slumberous sun-worship on the roofs,
their furzy forms decorating, as if with animated moss,
the maro >n-grav walls, some of the vounger ones play-
ing like children in a corner of the court. Some two
score were seated along the quaintly-carven cornices,
and when thev saw me enter, my hands full of sweet-
meats, slowlv descended. There was no rus ing, no
scramble; indeed they appeared rather desirou£ of
according a polite welcome to the visitor than of receiv-
ing anything from him. Thev descended lazih an !
gracefully — here a foot on some saintly symbol, there a
hand on some holv image, swinging gently to the paved
floor. Thev approached without any f< ar or pert curi-
osity; they did not holdout begging hands, nor propose
to take up a collection. No one prayed to another,
nor to the Brahman, nor to me. When I offered cakes
and swei tmeats some accepted, and munched languidly.
Their plump bodies were plainly made of plenitude of
sweetmeats, but thev ate a little, as if not wishing to
hurt mv feelings. There were several varieties of
them; there were dark faces anil light faces, and some
that bore witness to the legalitv of miscegenation.
There was evidently no color line in this happv com-
munitv. After a few minutes the young ones returned
to their play, I observed that thev danced around in
a ring, as the Hindus never do. Indeed, the Hindus never
dance at all for amusement; their only dancers are the
temple-dancers (Nautch girls) who merely describe a
passion or poem with pantomimic gesticulation. An
old Anglo-Indian said that a Hindu gentleman would
rather commit any crime than dance, and it cannot be
far from the truth. The younger monkevs danced; the
middle-aged poked a little mild fun at each other; the old
ones climbed again to their cornices, and to slumber in
the soft sunshine.
Gradual!) all of them left me save one. This one
had attracted mv attention at first because he seemed to
be a Chimpanzee, a species not to be expected in that
region. He may not have been one zoologically, but I
shall call him one because he was such cerebrallv — I
may even sav spiritually. I had given him at first the
finest cake I had; he had tasted it and smacked his lips,
giving me to understand that it was delicious; but I s iw
that he did not care for it at all, and when a young
monkey came — his spoilt daughter perhaps — and
snatched it out of his hand he only matte a show of
pursuing her. While she sat quite near, eating it, this
sage old monkey seemed satisfied. When she had gone
after the rest he remained and looked at me steadily;
also with a certain humor in his countenance, which
inspired both confidence and interest. There was some-
thing in his expression which reminded me of the
negro's remark when an organ-grinder brought his
ape through the plantation: he had no doubt the little
brother could talk easily enough if he wasn't afraid
of a hoe being put in his hand. 1 felt a desire to
be with this quiant acquaintance when Brahman ami
Moslem eyes were not on us. I dismissed my inter-
preter and the priest, sat down on a stone bench, and
offered the Chimpanzee mv remaining sweetmeats.
He regarded this as a friendly overture", and came a
little closer. He climbed on a little parapet of the wall,
where, half reclining, he was still as any other god in
his shrine. Then occurred the first of a series of inter-
views which I consider interesting enough to pass from
the Temple Court of Benares to The Open Court of
Chicago.
THE EVOLUTION OF CHARACTER AND ITS RELA-
TION TO THE COMMONWEAL.
BY MISS M. S. GILI.II.ANI>.
The attainment of the greatest possible amount of
social happiness I take to be the noblest of human aims;
the highest within the range of our faculties; and, being
within that range, worthy of belief, hope and endeavor
the highest endeavor of rational beings.
The importance of this subject needs no demonstra-
tion to students of ethics. There is. however, a large
class in whom the feeling which long ago found utter-
ance in the "how long, oh Lord, how long;" the
revolt against the miser)' of the world with the wild
wish to help it, often occurs as the result of some jar
(alas, how common!) to the social sympathies, but in
whom the wish dies down, drowned in an ocean of
hopelessness as to the bettering of social relations, or
chilled to death by the mist of a supposed pious sub-
mission to "the order of things." To those who feel
but do not see, I should like to give what little help I can.
There is another class, those who do not think
about it at all, whose individual aims absorb their entire
64
THE OPEN COURT.
attention. To them I should like to point out the sim-
ple fact that the conditions most essential to the happi-
ness of their fellows are precisely the conditions most
essential to the attainment of their own; so that by pro-
moting the former they inevitably promote the chances
of the latter. A short-sighted egoism continually
defeats itself.
First then to those who would fain better things
but know not how.
We bear the burden of many sorrows and suffer,
on all sides, the pain of baffled desires. Is there no
help for us?
Must we console ourselves with the pious by saying:
" Here we have no abiding city ;" " we are but strangers
and pilgrims bound for another shore." " Yonder" lies
our home. " Here we are on our trial, 'tis a state of pro-
bation ; we will bear it as such and try to be virtuous,
knowing that our lot beyond depends upon our action
here." Or, if this belief be taken from us, must we lose
all hope? Must we regard humanity as a forlorn
stream of sentient beings, doomed forever by a deluding
instinct to propagate their species, born forever into
hope, and pass forever through Disillusion to Despair,
surrounded on all sides by iron law, flinging themselves
against Fate like impotent waves that dash against the
rocks and chafe only themselves? Our outlook is for-
tunately not restricted to these two views, neither of
which give us much hope for our life here and now.
There is a third view which would teach us that
'• all evil results from non-adaptat on of constitution and
conditions," and that this evil is ever tending to disap-
pear by the gradual adaptation of constitution every-
where going on. The special non-adaptation with
which we have here to do is that of the human race to
a social state. Long continuance of savage life and the
survival of the fittest for such a life produced a charac-
ter in many respects opposed to that necessary for
comfortable social relations. Egoism was enormously
developed; Right meant simply Might; Sympathy was
prevented from developing, partly bv the warlike
habits of the savage and partly by the individual
independence which gave rise to but few occasions of
common suffering or common rejoicing. Necessity
formed habit and habit formed character. But condi-
tions were gradually changing. Increase of popula-
tion necessitated the agglomeration of tribes, a division of
labor and an immense increase in the amount of labor,
needful to supply so largely increased a community.
The wants and needs became vastly multiplied too, in
accordance with a universal law, that " every change
produced a diversity of effects." Hut change of char-
acter must ever lag behind change of conditions;
because the former is the product of the latter. Hence
it is that this heterogeneous, complex social life has
evolved needs and wants on every side, which, as yet,
humanity is incapable of responding to. The constitu-
tion is not adapted to the conditions, hence the evil.
Have we careles servants; have we slothful men of
business; have we lying, thieving officials; have we
aching heads from overstudy or aching backs from over-
work ; each and all, and a host of other ills with them are
to be attributed to the same general cause — the imperfect
adaptation of mankind and the needs of social life.
This view casts a flood of light on our condition,
gives us a ground of hope for the gradual amelioration
of our lot and enables us to give a reason for the hope
that is in us. But it does more. In showing us the
good it incidentally reveals to us the means of attainment.
Complete adaptation of character to the needs of social
life is the goal; necessity, as we have seen, compels
habit or crushes the rebel ; and habit forn s character.
Here we have at once a guide for our individual lives
and for our endeavor for the lives of others. Do
we want to become a clever pianist, we practice play-
ing the piano; do we want to teach a child to sew,
we make it practice sewing. " Practice makes per-
fect" is the pronouncement of general experience on the
subject; and we shall find it as true of virtues and
tastes as of any mechanical dexterity.
Let us then in our own lives endeavor to form
desirable habits; and in so far as we may be able to
influence the lives of others, let us try to demonstrate
to fehem the all-importance of this magician habit, and
let us try to remove stumbling blocks from his path.
This last much-needed aid may be rendered by us in
various ways.
First — Bv the avoidance of an indiscriminate charity.
Let us try to help those most who are most able to
help themselves, those upon whom the pressure of out-
ward circumstances has been calamitous, rather than
those out-distanced in the race of life by reason of i er-
sonal incapacity, whether physical, mental or moral.
It is a most salutary law that punishment should fall
upon defect, and we are wrong and retard that so desir-
able adaptation of character and capacity to the needs of
social life when we help to make punishment inappre-
ciable.
Secondly — By our advocacy of independence in
every individual member of the community. Let us not
forget the rule. Necessity fotms habit and habit, alone,
forms character. How short-sighted, then, is the policy
that would take from those least developed and least
fitted for social duties the pressure of that necessity
which is above all things best fitted to develop their
capacity a' d fit them for efficient membership of the
body social. Would we see industry flourish ami idle-
ness become irksome? Let us encourage no law which
would secure to any class a life of luxurious idleness.
Would we see thrift grow and waste disappear? Let
us not lighten responsibility nor lift burdens natural to
THE OPEN COURT.
65
any given relation. The paternal government which
would save a people not from their sins but from their
sin's consequences, which would interfere between an
act and its natural results whether it be bv lifting from
the shoulders of prostrate female virtue the burden of
the support of illegitimate offspring, or from parental
shoulders in gene al the burden of children's education,
or in any other way whatsoever that government does
its people grievous wrong. It keeps them children,
not indeed with the innocence and teachableness of
childhood, but with its ignorance, incapacity of self-
help and inadequate sense of responsibility.
These things I say chiefly with regard to laws and
enactments, and our intelligent attitude toward them.
Help may be given personally where the results of
incapacity press with extreme severity; but let it be
personal help, let it at least develop sympathy in the
helper; and let it be judicious. Let it never be of a kind
to encourage the moral offender to offend with impu-
nity, or to place inferiority of any kind, on a par with
superiority.
That brings us to the consideration of the third and
perhaps greatest of all the means at our disposal for
helping our fellows: the development of sympathy.
Tust as egoism is the chiefest preventive to happiness in
the social state, so is sympathy its principal producer.
All those ills at least, which we suffer from one
another, ills of omission and commission, all are attrib-
utable to poverty of sympathy. Did we realize clearly
the vexations caused by our misdeeds, and did the
realization pain us, we would certainly act better.
How then to cultivate this sympathy? It must be the
business not of laws at all, but of individual effort.
Let us enter into relation with others as widely as pos-
sible, let us encourage co-operation of every kind, so
that we may kindle our fellow-feeling and have occa-
sions of common sorrow and joy; and let us help per-
sonally. Even if at first we must need force ourselves
to do so, eventually the desire will reward the
habit. Interest in those we help flourishes marvelously
quickly.
Let us try, too, to break down class prejudices, to
do justice in our own estimates of those who differ most
widely from us, and to promote that mutual knowledge
of classes which best helps each to do justice and feel for
the other. But, above all, let us try to make our
interest identical by equitable relationships that shall be
complimentary rather than rival— remembering that "a
fellow-feeling makes one wondrous kind."
Necessary limitations of space scarcely admit of my
saying anything to that second class to whom I would
address myself: those who do not care about the com-
mon weal or happiness, whose interest is purely egotisti-
cal. One would indeed almost feel inclined to leave them
without a word — for they are a contemptible class
but that they, by their action, may imperil that weal,
about which if they do not care we do.
Know then, O thou narrow and miserable soul,
that thv so much prized happiness js to be accomplished
in no other way than by just the very means which has
been recommended to thy nobler brother. Think, all
ve such, if you can think, and learn! Are you cheated
by your grocer? Are you pilfered from bv your
servants? Do you lose money over inefficient and lazy-
work-people? Do the shafts of your carriage break
upon sudden strain because of unsound wood? Do you
lose your nearest and dearest or do you yourself run
the risk of being plunged into death by the breaking of
hridges immorally constructed? Are you poisoned by
evil odors from badly-made drains, or reduced to beggary
by the dishonesty of debtors? Are you suffering from
any of all the thousand ills which rascality and inefficiency
daily subject us to? Know then: all these ills are trace-
able to the s 1 me general cause: non-adaptation of constitu-
tion to conditions, inefficiency of character to meet the
needs of social life. And think : does it not concern yoti
personally that those conditions shall bemiintained which
alone will mould character in the necessary direction?
I pray thee think! State interference or non-interfer-
rence; individual independence or meddling supervision;
personal kindliness or indifference and rudeness: these,
things seem far apart from railway accidents, typhoid
fevers, trade peccadillos or work-people's stupidity;
but I tell you they all belong together, they have t lie-
most intimate connection, even that relation of relations,
the relation of cause and effect. Are you callou-?
You are so at your peril.
MONISM IN MODERN PHILOSOPHY AND THE
AGNOSTIC ATTITUDE OF MIND.
BV EDMUND MONTGOMERY.
Part III. — Conclusion.
Professor Haeckel, who, as every one knows, has
furnished, through his classical biological investigations,
manifold direct proof in support of the evolution
hypothesis, and who, through his popular works and
lectures, has probably done more than any other single
person to spread the knowledge of that great, life-
elevating doctrine, is also the advocate of a Monism
that — though essentially based on hvlozoistic as ump-
tions — pretends, nevertheless, to explain everything im
strict keeping with mechanical principles. Acconling-
to it, every atom is eternal and has an eternal soul. This,
soul possesses the properties of "sensation and volition,,
pleasure and pain, desire and aversion, attraction and
repulsi >n." Atoms aggregate to molecules, molecules to
crystals or plastidules, plastidules to cells and cells to com-
plex organisms. All this is said to occur in rigorous obedi-
enceto general mechanical laws, notwithstanding that it is
66
THE OPEN COURT.
volition which impels atoms to form chemical combina-
tions and that the plastidules transmit to other matter,
by dint of a faculty of reproduction, the complex motion
received during their evolution, the motion, in fact, in
which their specific nature consists. And this faculty of
reproduction, which thus renders possible organic growth
and propagation, is really unconscious memory, a faculty
of the soul. Parallel to the aggregation of the material
particles, their souls also aggregate, forming complex
souls, our own soul being the most complex of all.
The original dualism of body and mind within the
atom is thus made to form, by mere grouping, what
Professor Haeckel calls Mechanical Monism.
The philosophers of the seventeenth century, to
whom the connection of soul and body was such a
vexed question, believing — as all mechanical scientists
since Descartes have believed that each of the two
modes of existence displays its own series of phenomena
without the least interference from the other, these
benighted philosophers would no doubt be greatly aston-
ished at this easy solution of 'heir central problem. You
have only to lock up the two incommensurable elements
together in the smallest possible compass and you will
find them ready ever after to help each other out of
every imaginable difficulty.
An atomistic unification of body and mind on a
hvlozoistic foundation was also not long ago attempted
by a highly accomplished scientist, whose truly | henom-
enal career "the stupidity of death" cut shot t lone
before it had reached its climax. Clifford tried to prove
in a quasi-mathematical way that the reality which cor-
responds to our mental perception of things is made of
the same stuffas the mental perception itself. It would
occupy too much space to expose here the fallacy
of his specious argument. This the present writer has
undertaken in The Index of December 24, 18S5, pp.
307-8, where he has disproved this hypothesis of men-
tal atomism or mind-stuff and shown that complex individ-
ual consciousness is the only kind of mental existent we
know or can legitimately infer.
When it became highly probable, if not quite cer-
tain, that to each conscious state there corresponds a
definite molecular motion in the brain, scientific philoso-
phers, and among them Lewes, tried to establish a
monistic view on the strength of this correspondence.
This is the vievs usually known as the two-sided aspect,
or as Psychophysical Monism. According to it. the brain-
motion, the functional tremor of brain molecules, is only
another aspect of the corresponding conscious state,
which, in truth, is the same fact of nature, only sub-
jectively realized, while the motion is objectively real-
ized.
But it is cptite e\ ident that another person can realize,
as percept of his own, the brain-inntiott, while the per-
son to whom the brain belongs is experiencing the
corresponding couscous state. These two different
tacts, oceuri ing in two different minds, cami' t possibly be
one and the same identical fact of nature, ^o, here
again, we find ourselves baffled in our monistic efforts.
How, then, does science, as now constituted, really
bear upon a monistic interpretation of nature?
Science proceeds on the basis of an unfaltering con-
viction and ever-verified supposition that the things we
perceive, by means of our senses, are real existents, inde-
pendent in their intrinsic nature of our perception of
them. Those scientists, who believe themselves to be
idealists, have merely, during their philosophical excur-
sion, let drop into unconsciousness the leading principle
of their craft. The dilemma, which our present science
encounters on its way to a monistic world-conception, is
unavoidable. We find in the world, as it actually pre-
sents itself to us, highly complex bodies, possessing
manifold properties, some of them displaying activities
and experiencing affections of a marvelous kind. In
analyzing these compound structures science reacb.es
more and more elementary constituents, out of whose
combination these compound structures are most unmis-
takably formed. Dissolving thus all bodies into their
ultimate constituent parts, not in philosophical thought
or imagination merely but in all reality, there seems, ;«t
last, nothing left but a number of elements which, in
their most simple state, constitute gases, whose manifest
properties — the only properties which science is allowed
to reckon with ate all of the most primitive, physical
kind.
Now the dilemma is, how have the marvelous hpyer-
physical endowments of complex bodies got into
structures that are made up of nothing but physically-
endowed elements?
To take the qualities known only in connection with
complex structures, and place them in ever so minimized
a condition into their elements, is simply begging the
question and completely breaking through the limita-
tions of the scientific method. Science, prying into the
origin of things, has thus come to a beginning, con-
sisting of a vast multitude of interacting but disunited
elements, .and this is certainly not Monism.
As there cannot be the slightest doubt that the
universe is not made up through mere aggregation of
autonomous monads or atoms; but is truly a cosmos,
whose diversified and manifoldly endowed parts are
all closely interdependent constituents ; our attempts at
iuterpretati' n have to proceed in this monistic direction,
and there is no reason why we should not approach
nearer and nearer the solution.
I Jut is there anyone to be found in any time who with
bis understanding has yet penetrated the secret? And, if
not, why should "Agnostic" be a name of reproach? The
term "Agnosticism " as now used designates not a creed,
but merely a mental attitude, a wise suspense of judgment
THE OPEN COURT.
67
regarding certain vital questions passionately pre-
judged bv the society in which so-called Agnostics are
living. Formerly such dissenters from authoritatively
pre-cribed articles of faith were simply burned alive,
and that not so very long ago. In some parts of what
is called the civilized world they are still ostracized. In
England an " Infidel," up to very recently, was almost
universally despised, and had a very poor chance in life.
To the indefatigable exertions and eminent social
qualifications of such men as Professors Huxley and
Tyndall is chiefly due the great change that has taken
place in public opinion among the educated of the
English-speaking nations; a change which allows the
mild, more pitying than condemning, if not even half
or wholly-shared name of "Agnostic" to displace the
harsh and spiteful epithet "Heretic" or "Infidel."
Through generous sympathy with all the higher inter-
ests of humanity at large and of Englishmen in particu-
lar; through an amiable, open disposit.on, ever readv to
give fair play to an adversary, and to enter amicably
into his mode of thought; and withal armed with the irre-
sistible and masterly-wielded weapons of science; these
men — speaking the genuine human language — have
gained a candid hearing for their cause from the very
foremost leaders of public opinion. As prominent
svmptoms of the radical change that has thus latelv
been wrought in the direction of complete tolerance,
may be named the " Metaphysical Society " of London
and the "Nineteenth Century," where Roman Catholic
Cardinals, Anglican Bishops and the master minds of
dissenting denominations have discussed and are still
discussing with free-thinkers of all shades the questions
thev all have most at heart.
" Agnosticism," as commonly understood, has refer-
ence principally to the two great transcendental questions,
the existence of God and the immortality of the soul.
Strictly speaking, all who do not base their knowledge,
their gnosis, on supernatural revelation are Agnostics,
whether they call themselves so or not. For, it is a fact,
that the keenest and most profound thinkers among the
theologians themselves have now admitted, that reason —
not less than science — is incapable of bringing us positive
knowledge, not only concerning the particular nature of
God and the particular mode of existence in a future
life, but concerning the very existence of God -and a
future life. The logical proofs of Anselm and Des-
cartes, the teleological proof, the proof from causality,
from free will, etc., etc. ; all have turned out to be falla-
cious. Those then, who do not believe in supernatural
revelation — and who knows how many, there are of
such even among professed theologians — have to ground
and actually do ground their belief in God solely on the
feeling of the utter dependence of existence and life
upon a power, not themselves. What the intrinsic
nature of this creating and sustaining power may be
remains wholly enigmatical, however much the noble
stirrings of their emotional nature may prompt them to
identify it with its own highest sentiment and aspiration.
Dim and confused is in truth the boundary that sep-
arates at the uttermost reach of thought earnest and
open-minded seekers after truth, on whichever side of
providential Faith and personal Hope their conviction or
doubt may incline.
The- insistence on the supreme truth of supernatural
tradition ends, of course, all discussion. Our human life,
however, is being more and more exclusively molded on
natural revelation. This it is, that makes the spirit of
our scientific era more ami more humanely moral, but
also more and more agnostic, as regards the constitution
of the intelligible world, so minutely known and de-
scribed bv our forefathers. Agnosticism in reference to
the supernatural world, involves by no means a gener-
ally negative attitude of mind. Quite the contrary, it
leaves us all the freer to appreciate the positive marvels
of nature, and to work at a progressive development of
our race.
The mystery of Being and Becoming! Who in his
right senses dares for a moment to assert that the least
glimpse of its origin and intimate workings has been
vouchsafed to him.
George Eliot — truly a representative genius of the
highest aspirations of our age — with a receptiveness as
open as a child's, with knowledge as wide as human
understanding, with sympathy as deep as the human
heart; in vain, O in vain, has her humble beseeching,
her keen and tender gaze rested with life-long question-
ing on the silent secret "behind the veil, behind the
veil."
And how many cultured persons arc there, now-a-
days, who would consider, for instance, St. Augustine,
Luther or Calvin to be more lovable as human beings,
and deem their views of human life more truly moral
and estimable than those of her, who had the full
courage of her free, undogmatic convictions?
PUTTING OFF THE OLD MAN ADAM.
BY W. 1>. GUNNING.
A few years ago Dr. Ellsberg, to account for the
facts of heredity, proposed a theory which has been
accepted by Haeckel. A certain number of "physio-
logical units," plastic and therefore called " plasticules "
bv Ellsberg, pass, not organized into body, from parent
to child, to grandchild, down along the line in dimin-
ishing ratio until at last they fade out. Let us hypothe-
cate an Adam and Eve physiologically. The child is
not a new being, but a projection of the parents. In its
body, but not incorporated with it, are plastidules of
Adam and Eve. The child grows to manhood and a
portion of these plastidules pass, with his own, into the
68
THE OPEN COURT.
1 T.cly of his child. A portion, still remaining free, will
pass into the next generation. A time comes when all
the Adamic plastidules will he cut off". "Abbreviated
heredity" intervenes. The man has "put oft" the old
man Adam."
This may seem fanciful, but it is no more fanciful
than Darwin's theoiy of Panganesis, and the facts of
biology would seem to necessitate one theory or the
other, or both. Nature remembers long but she for-
gets at last. The unfolding human body does not epit-
omize completely the history which lies behind it. At
last the body ioigets its heraldry, f weep not over the
grave of Adam. His plastidules have long been cut off.
Between him and me there is no bond of kinship.
Physiological plastidules may be long persistent; the
spiritual persist still longer. We have worked the tiger
out of our teeth and nails, but the
"Tiger, tiger burning bright
In tile forests of the night,"
lingers in our passions. The mind is still toothed and
clawed, but not so much as of old. With the fading
out of old organic plastidules fades out their manifesta-
tions in the mind. In what mental kinship do you stand
to your Adam? In the higher range of faculties you
sustain no kinship at all to this protoplast.
And those, vour remote ancestors in India, in Egypt,
in Palestine, how much of their mind-plastidules remain
in you? Fix your attention on a segment of history.
I place it here on this page not to excite merriment or
derision, but to point a moral. It is the history of an
ark, chest, or box, holding, perhaps, a few pebbles. It
was captured by the Philistines from the Israelites and
taken to Ashdod. The capture and burning of all our
metropolitan cities would not smite us with such con-
sternation as the capture of this box smote into the
minds of Israel. While Israel shuddered with horror,
Ashdod broke out into pustules. To speak with ancient
Israel, the box was doing a right godly work, throwing
down the statue of Dagon and smiting its votaries with
pestilence. Terrified Ashdod, not daring to burn it, took
it to Gath. In Gath it wrought the same pestilence as
in Ashdod, and the Gadites took it to Ekron. The box,
at once, smote Ekron with pustules and mice. What
could be done with this god-box? Palestine was aghast.
No man would destroy it and no city would receive it.
Ekron took it out and left it on an open field. There
it kept right on creating ulcers and mice. What could
be done ? What we will call, by accommodation,
" the human mind," lit on an expedient. The box, or
god-in-the-box — I do not think the "human mind" dif-
ferentiated them clearlv — seemed to deal chiefly in ulcers
and mice. "Let us," these ancient men said, "let us
buy it off by giving it five gold ulcers and five gold
mice, modeled after those it has sent upon us." The
gold mice and ulcers were put in a little box which was
placed on the Jahweh-box, and the Philistines took the
two boxes on a new cart to Bath Shemesh. This city,
being Jewish, welcomed the box with rejoicing, tore up
the cart for sacrifice, and killed the cows which drew it.
Hut some of these men (it is not said that they were
women) looked into the box, and "it smote the men of
Hath Shemesh fiftv thousand, three score and ten." It does
not appear whether it killed this time with mice and ulcers.
No wonder that the survivors of Bath Shemesh sent
messengers to Kirjath-jearim asking that city to take the
box. Kirjath took it and appointed a priest to serve it,
that is, kill birds and bullocks "and rams for it. It
bcha-ved very well for three months, till King David
"stirred up all Israel from Shihor of Egypt even to the
entering of Hamath" to bring it to Jerusalem. Thev
went, a whole nation as we are told, to Kirgath-jearim
for this terrible box. " And thev carried the ark of
Jahweh in a new cart out of the house of Abinadab and
Uzza and Ahiv drove the cart. And David and all
Israel played before Jahweh with all their might with
singing and with harps and with psalteries and with
timbrels and with cymbals and with trumpets." But
when they came to the threshing-floor of Chidon the
oxen stumbled, the cart tipped, the box toppled, and
Uzza put forth his hand to support it. "And Jahweh
sBiote him, and he died before Jahweh." The terrible
box! "And David was displeased hecause Jahweh had
make a breach upon Uzza." The diabolical box! It
was left there at the house of Obed Edom, and Israel
dispersed. It was too much for a nation!
Three months passed and the nation tried again.
David g itheied all Israel to Jerusalem to bring the box
from t'-': house of Obed Edom. They went now with
priests L roperly sanctified for the task. On approach-
ing the dreaded box thev sacrificed to it seven bullocks
and seven rams. The historian does not tell us what it
had done with its gold mice and pustules. This final
expedition was successful. The box entered Jerusalem
in triumph, King David in a short linen frock, a kind of
" Culty sack," dancing before it "in the face of Jah-
weh," much to the shame of one of his wives.
What have we been reading? How does the storv
move you? What kinship do vou feel with these peo-
ple? Hardly more than you feel with the grain-gath-
ering ants of Texas, whose psychic life has been de-
scribed by Cook. They gathered into barns, so do vou
and so do the ants, and here the kinship ends. Their
mind-plastidules have been cut off. Their mind life is
no more to you than that of the pithecanthropos. But
it has been the bane of theology, pagan as well as
Christian, to gather up the cast-off robes of the race and
make them enrobe religion. We mend an old fiddle
with a piece of another old fiddle. I would build the
orchestra anew, using not a slued from the timbrel of
Deborah or harp of David.
THE OPEN COURT.
69
I know that the past holds the root of the present.
I know that we stand, body and mind, in generic rela-
tions with all the life which has gone before us. So
stands the fern on relations with the liverwort. But the
liverwort was such a remote ancestor that every grow-
ing fern to-day, although springing from a liverwort
thallus, sluffs that thallus from the root and lives its own
proper fern-life. I would have Christianity, wise like
the fern, sluff from its root the low thallus of Judaism.
The young dodder is rooted in the ground, but as it
grows and climbs and less and less nutriment flows into
it from the soil, at last it sluffs off its root and lives only
from the upper world of air. I would have religion
and philosophy, wise like the dodder, cut themselves
loose from devitalized roots.
How many a thallus is sticking to our roots! How
■many shriveled, sapless, pulseless roots this climbing
•dodder called humanity still holds clinging to its trunk!
I have tried a cruel experiment on an infant. The
child was sucking milk from a bottle through an India-
rubber tube. I pinched the tube and cut off. the How.
How lustily the babe continued to suck — the empty air!
Babes are thev whose milk bottles are in ancient Pales-
tine and who suck through the long elastic tubes of tra-
dition. They suck up, now a litter of gold mice and
now a long-haired hunter of foxes; now a syphilitic
king and now a blood-spaltered seer; now a seraph
snake and now, and with every gulp, the Jewish Jah-
weh. I would pinch the tubes. The heaven-mother
has lacteal glands whose flow is perennial.
You enter a great library and your eye ranges over
the thousand thousand volumes. Here, vou say, is the
history of all peoples, are the thoughts of all thinkers,
is the record of man from troglodyte beginnings till
now. To be a full man, standing tip-toe over the ages,
you must read all these. Think a moment and take
courage. You must not read all these, nor a thousandth
part of them. A thousand to one they are sapless roots.
Take down the old literature of Palestine. I am always
glad to see in a family Bible the Old Testament trans-
formed into an herbarium for autumn leaves and a hid-
ing place for old family letters. The book is not read,
an indication of good spiritual health. This family is,
as a dodder, cutting off a sapless root.
Here are ponderous tomes, Rawlinson's Ancient
Empires. You need not tarry long on these. What is
Tadmor in the wilderness to you in this garden of the
Lord? Tadmor, Babylon, Nineveh, they were products
of an extinct order of thought. It is not necessary to
your mind-growth to know their kings or their conquests.
And here are many ponderous tomes on ancient
Egypt — Bunsen, Lepsius and the rest. You are tempted
to tarry. Mysterious as their sphinx were these worship-
pers of leeks and onions and beetles and crocodiles, but
that very worship cuts them off from you. Egypt, with
her Nile-brood, is a shed thallus from our fern-root.
The thin volume of Renouf will give you all vou need
to know of Egypt.
Gibbon's Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire —
what ponderous and learned tomes! But why should
you burn the oil of midnight to learn an inventory of
emperors, chiefs, battles, butcheries, as infructuous as an
inventory of autumn leaves storm-cast to the ground?
Hallam's Middle Ages — lore interminable, and what
lore! Fifteen hundred years after Plato, the toe-nail of
a man who had shown himself a saint bv standing ten
years on a stone column in hunger and filth and rags,
the toe-nail of such a man was of more value in any
city of Europe than a telescope or a whole library of
Greek thought! History of the Middle Ages — history
of crows and kites! Thoughts of the Schoolmen —
thoughts of men whose highest problem was " whether
God can know more than he knows that he knows?"
Read De Coulanger's Ancient City, Maine's Ancient
Law, Draper's Intellectual Development of Europe,
Lecky's History of European Morals, and you will get
almost all the sap from these ancient roots — all the roots
save one.
Greece! In this alcove of the Greek you may linger.
Here is a proliferous root which the human tree, let it
spire up never so high, will never rescind. Homer,
.-Eschylus, Sophocles and Euripides sang for all time.
Plato, Pythagoras, Aristotle, Socrates, thought for the
race as long as the race should be. The Greek, the
people, singing and speaking in that matchless language
of their's, how little did they dream that in distant ages,
over all Europe and over a world unknown to them,
men, as they pushed out the boundaries of knowledge
and struck higher notes in the gamut of thought, would
draw from their speech the drapery in which to express
their inventions and robe their thoughts until the English
of science and philosophy would become an Anglecised
Greek!
In another alcove, side by side, it may be, with Duns
Scotus, with Zurgetius de Statu Servorum, with com-
mentaries on the curse of Canaan, with philological dis-
sertations on the Tower of Babel, with disquisitions on
the deluge, you may find a novel by a recent author; a
novel whose hero was the pithecanthropoid who left his
skull in the Neanderthal cave, and whose times were the
far-off stone-age when man was emerging from the
jungle. Read it if you can. Cry if vou can over the
woes of* Red, the hero. A growing babe was the
author, trying to suck sentiment through long tubes
from the age of clubs and claws. The tube is pinched.
The plastidules of Neanderthal are cut off. Red is dead,
thoroughly dead.
"Atrugelos," unfruitful, is the word which Homer
wrote against the sea. Atrugelos write against the
million parchments and tomes cast up from the restless
THE OPEN COU RT.
sea of human life. From "Thalassa," the laughing-
sea are the volumes of Rabelais; from "polyphoisboids,"
the many-voiced, are the pages of Shakespeare; from
the hitter-salt sea are the volumes of Swift and later
poems of Tennyson; from the storm-wracked, thunder-
ous ocean, are the Ocianides of .Eschylus and night-
cries of Carlyle; from the serene deeps are the thoughts
of Plato, Goethe, Emerson, Spencer.
THAT PREVIOUS QUESTION.
BY J. H. FOWLER.
The world is a mirror reflecting self: yet it is the die
that stamps experience. The sun is obscured by our
own atmosphere; yet it is the source of all life. Man is
neither fish nor worm, but aerial and ideal. He voyages
in celestial space and finds terrestrial kinship in the re-
motest star, yet he may explore the exclusive Ego to the
north pole of metaphysics, but the lie of his assumption
freezes in his teeth while his crystal logic dissolves in
suffering, sympathy, love, worship, joy. Every form of
experience relates him to facts objective and to beings
other than self. Egoism and devotion are antipodes.
One must go out of self that heat and light may come
in. Exit Ego, enter Hero.
Whatever the game, Faith is a trump card and with
a Heart makes a good hand. But Faith is content with
error and should be confined to recreation. Trust, with
plenty of dry powder is the thing for work. Skepticism,
the opposite of faith, tends to eliminate error; but dis-
trust inclines to pessimism while trust ever points to the
best. Life commences in trust. Through all the long
voyage paleozoic fish to modern man, Life has safely
trusted the polar stars of sense. No magic of intellection
can charm them out of their nature-fixed orbits or
weaken our hereditary trust in them. And yet these
orbs did not adorn the sky of primitive life.
There is a field of trust whereon the light of sense
never beamed, a day of senseless life, yet not of blind
life. If it was not light it was not wholly dark.
Objective presence dawned upon it and was recog-
nized. There was no seeing, no hearing, no tasting, no
smelling, no feeling, but there was the contact of dis-
criminate touch : organism selecting from environment
the congenial and rejecting from self the inappropriate.
The most simple and primitive vital organism is and
must ever have been, from the very beginning, function-
ally endowed with passivity to, and adjustivity toward,
environment impressible and self-adjusting. Endowed
-with less power and guidance, Life would have wrecked
at every outset, never could have made the long rough
passage to the land of specialization sense. With no
power of detecting the objective fact and of self-adjust-
ment thereto, the vital organism were, of all things con-
ceivable, the most unfit for survival, and at any moment
life were liable to be swallowed up by environment.
The phenomena of life are known only through
organism. This two-fold functional endowment so
essentially inheres in the vital organism that we are
unable to conceive of life without it.
Life, Organism, Function, Environment, axe. terms
so essentially correlated and interlinked by nature, that
no force of logic can put them asunder. The whole-
process of organic evolution consists in the progressh e
specialization of structure better and better adapted
to the performance of this fundamental duplex function.
Experience is the formative factor. It moulds structure
and by heredity secures permanency, subject to per-
petual modification. Individuals perish, but life endures,
and experience is perpetuated and cumulative, storing in
pepetuallv modified structure. Thus the vito-mechan-
ical impulse, and chemico-vital reaction, experienced by
the earliest progenitors, becomes the habit of succeed-
ing generations and in the more remote offspring is
organically fixed as instinct. ' The objective impulse
and subjective response repeated give to organism the
infinitesimal touch of change which ultimates in the
intuition of objective reality.
The simple protoplasmic organism is the constituted
subject of impulse and lays direct hold upon the object-
ive fact, not as light, heat, sound or any form of force
in space or time, but simply as objective presence, con-
genial or uncongenial, attractive or repulsive.
From this simplest and most primitive psycho-vital
function there arises within the organism a perpetual
struggle with a constantly-increasing effort or tenden y
to enlarge and intensify the receptive capacitv and to
increase the power of the adaptive faculty.
Our five senses are inventions of life through experi-
enced necessity for larger and more special capacities of
impression from, and of readjustment to, the external
world. They are instruments of life by which special
groups of phenomena are gathered up and utilized —
instruments of conquest and defense in Life's warfare
with environment.
Life has come to know and conquer, and through
every organism may report as truly as the great Caesar:
Vent, vidi vici.
The greatest American economist defined wealth as
mans power to control the forces of nature. So the
grade of any being in the ascending movement is deter-
mined by its conquests, what it knows, what i! does.
But philosophic truth needs no rhetorical setting.
Let us renew our research. See what we can know
as to the whence and what of that primitive organic
experience which, as mind-stuff, Life forms into our
highest psychic being.
We find it unmistakably in every organism, plant
or animal. It must have been simultaneous wit^ the
dawn of Life and could not have been the result of her-
iditv. This simple primitive passivity or impressive
THE OPEN COURT.
susceptibility of unspecialized protoplasm bears the same
relation to the senses proper that this primitive form on
protoplasmic structure hears to the specialized organisms.
It may, therefore, most appropriately be termed Proto-
sc/tse, for it is the first form of sense unspecialized, sense
simply of objective presence.
At present we know no more of its origin than we
do of the simple structure which bears it. When we
shall have determined the origin of life we may be pre-
pared to know the first cause of that organic suscepti-
bility to objective impress and power of self-adjustment
thereto, which antedates all experience, nav which is the
source of experience.
Certainly we cannot doubt that the first and simplest
vital organism performed these functions as trustingly,
so to speak, as we ourselves with our highly specialized
instrumentalities perform them. And shall we now for
the first time call in question the rectitude of nature in
this performance ? Suspect her first impress upon or-
ganism and pronounce all subsequent experience illu-
sion? Shall we not rather exalt this primitive trust
into a moral element, having learned by the persistency
of identity and difference, the law of fact presentation,
to which we are morally bound?
Organism is a creature of nature specialized by ex-
perience. How could nature misrepresent herself to
her own creature? How could nature which, tends
always to the elimination of all possible error, misdirect
the specialization of organ and function so as to subvert
the impress of nature and alienate the creature? When
our mental faculties have been created by nature and
evolved through experience in contact with nature, ex-
perience which leads us to the conclusion that the fittest
always survives, how can we distrust our senses, through
which experience comes, and declare that what we think
we know through nature is not real knowledge? That
■ >u- sense percepts give us no clue to objective realities?
That the world as we think we know it is by no means
the world as it is? That time and space are purely
mental concepts?
Convince the laborer who saws wood by the hour
to fit your stove ! I confess equal stubbornness — I cer-
tainly do "fail to realize that distance and position, as
well as all other space relations are truly subjective phe-
nomena."* Notwithstanding, I am "quite certain that all
our faculties are strictly determined by our organization
and wholly encompassed within it," "our knowledge is
relative,"* but nevertheless true knowledge. When I
know that a thing is so and not otherwise, satisfaction is
not conceit. I trust my own organism and well know
that I am a moral being, and, as such, related to all
being. In my human fellow I recognize and reverence
this transcendant worth, striving with him for the
higher fulfillment.
* From an article by Dr. Kdmund Montgomery printed in T/i? hide.
THE DECADENCE OF CHRISTIAN MYTHOLOGY.
KY W. s. KKS VI-DV.
'■/:' pur si innove." — GALII.frO.
Let the old gray-beard Tuscan's now somewhat
hackneyed phrase serve (for want of a better) as our
motto. The physical globe is in motion indeed; but
how many would suspect it if left to their own wisdom?
Round and round whirls the vast rock-shell, and for-
ward forever Hies, age after age ploughing its viewless
furrows in the eternal void and swerving not a foot
from its appointed co«rse along the old aeonian road.
" Tumhling on steadily, nothing dreading,
Sunshine, storm, cold, heat, forever withstanding, passing, carrying,
The soul's realization and determination slill inheriting.
The Huid vacuum around and ahead still entering* and dividing.
The divine ship sails the divine sea." — Whitman.
Here, then, we are actually whirling around at the
speed of a cannon-ball, and vet would never know it.
A glacier is in continuous motion, yet seems to move
not at all; the foundations of a great building may,
little by little, be sapped by the sea, and vet how firm
and majestic and apparently impregnable the noble pile
will seem only an hour before the thunder of its fall!
A vast pile of cumulus cloud, floating in as seeming-
quiet a midsummer's sky as vou please, is yet always
imperceptibly drifting, drifting with the air, and slowly
melting away in the fiery furnace of the solar heat. And
so is it with an outworn religious system ; so is it, I believe,
with the atrocious evangelical theology of our day. It is
like a scroll cast into the fire, the writing is legible long
after the vital cohesion of the fibers has been destroyed.
In recently going through the third volume of Gibbon.
I was struck with his accounts of the suppression of
Paganism by the Christian Emperors. The abortive,
though astonishingly and splendidly energetic, attempt ot
the Emperor Julian to revive the glories of the old
Athenian religion and philosophy ( a jolly good fellow
that Julian) had shown that Paganism was but a shell
of rites and ceremonies, and Theodosius — 390-420
A. D. had only to prohibit public sacrifices and wor-
ship to give the poetical but outworn system its quietus,
or nearly so to do. In sequestered rural communities
a few vintagers and husbandmen still devoutly wor-
shiped in their little mountain temples, and brought
thither their humble sacrifices for the gods in whom
they believed.
Hut practically the closing of the temples of city
and town extinguished the Pagan religion (a hint
here for those who rightly* advocate the taxing ot
church property: extinguish the public worship and you
extinguish the superstition), and the abolishing of the
still lingering schools and gardens of the philosophers at
Athens by Justinian a century later obliterated the last
remnant of Paganism. In one of his letters Shelley
(profoundly, if somewhat exaggeratedly) remarks of
an act of vandalism by certain convent monks, that
72
THE OPEN COURT.
*' associated man holds it as the vers sacrament of his
union to forswear all delicacy, all benevolence, all
remorse, all that is true, or tender, or sublime." If, as
Carlyle said, most people are [intellectually] fools, it of
■course follows that the associated action of majorities
must end in a certain amount of foolishness. Break up
any great popular organization, I care not what it is,
and you are prettv sure to disintegrate a mountainous
mass of folly.
It is notoriously difficult to bring into court legally
approved evidence of change of religious beliefs, since
there is nothing men are so cautious in concealing
Fishermen say that lobsters in getting out of their old
shells in moulting time have a hard time of it, and often,
leave a leg behind. So those who have passed through
the throes of religious change often come forth from the
trial maimed and sore, and by the measure of their
sufferings know the distance that separates them from
their former co-believers, and the danger there is in
revealing it. Yet we are not without many extremely
significant indications of the decadence of Javeh wor-
ship amongst us. Not to speak of the confessions of
orthodox clergymen often made in private to Unita-
rians and secularists; nor of the universal abhorrence of
the damnation doctrines expressed in private conversa-
tion by orthodox laymen; nor of the common lament
that no young men of worth can be obtained for the
Protestant priesthood (hundreds of Presbyterian churches
without a head simply because there are no men to put
into the pulpits, and hundreds of New England country
churches closed entirely- see the Century some time
back — for lack of interest); not to speak at large of
these, nor of the general running of steam and horse
cars and milk wagons on Sunday, and the opening of
cigar stands, fruit stands, news stands, art museums and
theatres on that day, let us confine our attention to a few
concrete and special instances.
What, for instance, do you say to that piece of
riotous burlesque in the student's procession at Harvard
during the recent celebration of the two hundred and
fiftieth anniversary. A cut of the scene lies before me.
Two men in ludicrous masks are carrying an illumi-
nated model of the college chapel, palanquin-like, on
their shoulders, and the model is covered with gaily
mocking and jubilant inscriptions celebrating the joy of
the boys at escape from the prayer humbug. What
would Cotton Mather have said to that? Or what
would Jonathan Edwards have said to the recent pro-
test of the Yale students against being fed compulsorily
on worm-eaten sermons and saw-dust doctrinal pud-
dings? What, again, is the meaning of these innumera-
ble trials for heresy ? the trial of Prof. Swing in Chicago,
the puhlic admonition by his bishop of R. Heber New-
ton in Brooklyn, the recent arraignment of the Andover
professors, the ejection of B. W. Williams and T. W.
Bicknell from their positions as teachers in a Dorchester,
Mass., Sunday-school on account of the alleged hereti-
cal tendencies of their views, and hundreds of similar
though less widely known cases. Don't von detect a
good deal of trembling and shaking in the towers of
Zion? And that ludicrous flight homeward of Dr.
McCosh of Princeton, blinded by the too dazzling light
of Harvard's secularism and agnostic science- quite sig-
nificant that, eh? And the acceptance and preaching of
evolution by Henry Ward Beecher, what does that
mean? He seems as much idolized as ever by his peo-
ple; in fact, never was more popular. And everybody
seems to sympathize with that Southern divine (With-
row is it, or Woodrow?) who has been deposed bv*
college trustees for adhering to his belief in evolution.
That fine old radical, Ruskin, remarks the complete
absence from the dramatis persona on the stage and in
imaginative literature of the clergv of our day, and
lightly thinks it a mark of their "extreme degradation
and exhaustion," as being persons who have no real
share in the manly march and battle of humanity (see
his Roadside Songs of Tuscany, p. 106). "In general,"
he says, "any man's becoming a clergyman in these
days implies that, at best, his sentiment has overpowered
his intellect." " In defense of this profession [of preach-
ing], with its pride, privilege and more or less roseate
repose of domestic felicity, extrcmelv beautiful and envi-
able in country parishes, the clergv, as a body, have,
with what energy and power was in them, repelled the
advance both of science and scholarship, so far as either
interfered with what they had been accustomed to teach,
and connived at every abuse in pul lie and private con-
duct with which they felt it would be considered uncivil
and feared it might ultimately prove unsafe to interfere."
(Fors Clavigera, II.)
So much for the destructive portion of our subject.
At some future time we mav be permitted to look at its
constructive side, and consider the successor of the
nations' anthropomorphic gods, i. e., the Universe, and
ask if indeed we can as vet discover in Its manifesta-
tions any ethical trend or purpose.
Professor Huxley says:
11 Tolerably earlv in life I discovered that one of the unpar-
donable sins, in the eyes of most people, is for a man to presume
to go about unlabeled. The world regards such a person as the
police do an unmuzzled dog, not under proper control. I could
rind no label that would suit me, so, in my desire to range
myself and be respectable, I invented one, and as the chief thing I
was sure of was that I did not know a great many things that
the — ists and the — ites about rue professed to be familiar with, I
called myself an Agnostic. Surely no denomination could be
more modest or more appropriate, and I cannot imagine whv I
should De every now and then haled out of my refuge and
declared sometimes to be a Materialist, sometimes an Atheist,
sometimes a Positivist, and sometimes, alas and alack, a cowardly
or reactionary Obscurantist."
THE OREN COURT.
73
The Open Court,
A. Fortnightly Journal.
Published every other Thursday at 169 to 175 La Salle Street I Nixon
Building), corner Monroe Street, by
THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY
B. K UNDERWOOD,
Editor and Manager.
sara a. undkkwood,
Associate Editor.
The leading object of The Open Court is to continue
the work of Tin- Index, that is, to establish religion on the
basis of Science and in connection therewith it will present the
Monistic philosophy. The founder of this journal believes this
will furnish to others what it has to him, a religion which
embraces all that is true and good in the religion that was taught
in childhood to them and him.
Editorially, Monism and Agnosticism, so variously defined.
will be treated not as antagonistic systems, hut as positive and
negative aspects of the one and only rational scientific philosophy,
which, the editors hold, includes elements of truth common to
all religions, without implying either the validity of theological
assumption, or any limitations of possible knowledge, except such
as the conditions of human thought impose.
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tute for unquestioning credulity intelligent inquiry, for blind faith
rational religious views, for unreasoning bigotry a liberal spirit,
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and upon the solution of which depend largely the highest inter-
ests of mankind.
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THURSDAY, MARCH 17, 1S87.
RELIGION IN THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS.
The 'New Princeton Review for January contains
an article from the pen of the late Dr. A. A. Hodge
on " Religion in the Public Schools," in which the
writer asks: "Shall the Christian majority consent
that their wealth shall be taxed, and the whole energy
of our immense system of public schools be turned
to the work of disseminating agnosticism through the
land and down the ages?" The alternative
is simple, " Christians have all the power in their
own hands. The danger arises simply from the weak
and sickly sentimentalism respecting the transcend-
ental spirituality of religion, the non-religious char-
acter of the State, and the supposed equitable rights
of a small infidel minority. All we have to do is for
Catholics and Protestants disciples of a common
master- to come to a common understanding with
respect to a common basis of what is received as
-general Christianity, a practical quantity of truth
belonging equally to both sides, to be recognized in
general legislation, and especially in the literature
and teaching of our public schools." Dr. Patrick F.
McSweeny, in the Catholic World, says that this article
" is remarkable as perhaps the nearest approach that
has yet been made by a non-Catholic to the Catholic
position on the school question." Hut Dr. McSweeny
further suggests that the denomination start and
manage the school, "the State paying for results in
the secular branches." If the State must regulate the
secular studies, he- suggests another compromise,
which, "although not as suitable, might be accepted
by us." He would have the State " appoint Catholic
teachers for Catholic children and Protestant teachers
for Protestant children, prescribing the present
neutral system of education for certain hours of the
school day, and giving also a fixed hour or hours for
daily religious instruction."
The rights of those who do not wish to have their
children indoctrinated in the Christian theology, and
the rights of all who desire to reserve the religious
instruction of their children for the home or the
church, are equally disregarded by the Protestant
and the Catholic divine. Both Protestant Chris-
tianity and Catholic Christianity, unmodified anil
unrestrained by the skeptical and rational thought,
which they both condemn, and having the power,
would be just as ready to disregard the rights of
each other as they now are the rights of free-
thinkers. Fortunately liberalism is so widely
diffused, and the largest sects are still so tenacious
of their distinctive doctrinal teachings, and so much
under the influence of a rival sectarian spirit, that
the work of converting our public schools into purely
ecclesiastical institutions is extremely difficult. We
do not believe it will succeed. The growth oi
liberal thought, which will make the jarring sects
subordinate their differences to a common purpose,
will equally broaden the scope of their common
work, and make their sectarian schemes we believe
impossible of realization.
THE REVIVALISTS WE HAVE, AND THE REVIV-
ALISTS WE NEED.
When, as within the past few weeks, there has
been a so-called "great revival" going on, and much
stress is laid by the preachers who give the meetings
their countenance ( hoping by this means to fill their
own empty pews), by the daily press, by the church
members who attend, as well as by the revivalists
themselves, to the great good accomplished by their
methods in reclaiming weak, bad and brutal men
from their evil ways, many persons of education
and liberal tendencies are disposed to' ask themselves
"4
THE OPEN COURT.
v\ hether, it these representations be true, the revival-
ists should not be encouraged in this good work how-
i ver distasteful to cultured minds such methods are.
That many of these "conversions" do result in
individual reform is, no doubt, true; but equally true
is it that the ultimate outcome of these revival meet-
ings on the public mind and on general education is
a deflection in the direction of ignorance.
Revivalists are wide-awake, intensely emotional,
strongly earnest men, limited in their range of
thought, narrow in their conceptions of man's destiny,
anthropomorphic in their ideas of God. They are
sincere in their beliefs— their sincerity makes them
enthusiastic, their enthusiasm strikes a responsive
chord of sympathy among those they appeal to by
the common bonds of humanity, that "touch of
nature" which "makes the whole world kin" is deftly
given and the fire of a revival is started. With all
honest}' of purpose the revivalists bewilder thought
by their constant appeals to the baser emotions and
t<> personal experiences. "I" and "you" figure
largely in those appeals which are not addressed to
the intellect but to the feelings; the chords of sorrow,
suffering, fear, hope, pride, reverence, are swiftly one
after another touched more or less strongly, and
acquiescence in the speaker's views is gained and a
momentary victory is won.
But it is always from a low stand-point that these
revivalists speak. They deal with worn-out ideas
revamped, ignorance is patted on the head, encour-
aged, and in a manner canonized. Science is mis-
represented, sneered at, and ridiculed. Take up the
daily papers which report these revival meetings and
scarcely one of the sermons, when fully reported,
fails to contain some sneering reference to distin-
guished scientists or thinkers whose work has seemed
at variance with so-called "revealed religion." Take
up the published "sermons" of Sam Jones and
others, and vulgar wit which would disgrace the
"end men" of a ministrel show or a reputable circus
clown, greets you on every page as the words of
men who profess to deal with the most serious and
momentous questions humanity can ask. Compare
the style of the published sermons of Sam Jones,
Sam Small, D. L. Moody, or even those of Joseph
Cook and ask how many pages of Darwin, Huxley,
Haeckel, Agassiz, Lyell, Carpenter or Gray, you
would peruse if written in the same vein?
Such revivalists beget in the popular mind, doubt
of science, fear of progress, reverence for ignorance.
They sneer in their flippant way at all the real
workers for man's development. They relate little
"smart" anecdotes in which "tadpoles" and "monk-
eys" and parodies of the "evolution theory" are
prominent, or in which so-called "arguments of
Sceptics" are overwhelmingly confuted (many of
these anecdotes being on the face of them glaringly
untrue), and then when a laugh is raised that suffices
to stamp the falsehood as true in minds unaccus-
tomed to careful thinking.
These are the revivalists we have. But we do
need revivals of a certain sort in our midst, and con-
sequently, revivalists.
We need revivals of commercial honest)', of
public sense of honor, of private and civic virtue, of
pure living, of truthfulness, of high ideals, ol pur-
poseful lives, of self denial, of all the more solid
and stalwart national virtues, rather than spasmodic
individual attempts at temporary halts in patent
vice. We need for revivalists men and women
imbued and impressed in every thought ot their
brains and every pulsation of their hearts with the
crying need for such a revival. Men and women
who would like Mood\' and Murphy work on year
after year unmoved by hindrances or repulse, in the
straight line of their duty as awakeners. We want
as a revivalist not one who self-conceitedly hugs in
his inner consciousness his possession of superior
knowledge as only attainable by himself, but instead,
one who, knowing its inestimable value to the world
shall not be able to rest until he proclaims that
worth and causes it to be proclaimed from every
house-top and street, every hill-side and valley
where a brother man resides. We want him to make,
in place of flattering appeals to ignorance, trumpet-
toned proclamation of the need of enlightenment
and eloquent portrayal of the lovliness of knowledge.
We want him to draw vivid word-pictures of the
work, scientific effort has already achieved in
relieving some of the worst ills to which nature left
man a prey, and in making liberty possible and life
more endurable. Such a revivalist as is best described
by Mrs. Browning:
'"What ye want is light — indeed —
Not sunlight * * "
- but God's light, organized
In some high soul, crowned capable to lead
The conscious people — conscious and advised —
Koi* il we lift a people like mere clay,
It falls the same. We want thee. O unfound
And sovran teacher! — if thy beard be grey
Or black, we bid thee rise up from the ground
And speak the word Ood giveth thee to say,
Inspiring into all this people round
Instead of passion, thought, which pioneers
All generous passion, purines from sin,
And strikes the hour for. Rise up, teacher, here's
A crowd to make a nation — best begin
By making each a man, till all be peers
OJ" earths true patriots, and pure Martyrs in
Knowing and daring.'' S. A. U.
As we rise in grandeur of life our hope will grow
higher and far-reaching; we shall beiieve more truly in
the power of the good as we see it gaining in the actual
THE OPEN COURT.
75
world. Nothing shall stand before it but it shall finally
be overcome. They who have this thought at heart,
that the good has the right to reign in the world, and
that the had has no right to exist, feel the call upon
them to work for that end; they do not ask when it shall
be; they wish that it might be now. But it is not; and
so they sec nought before them but the ought demand-
ing their effort to bring it about. The thought of a
higher order of things fills them; they cannot rest satis-
fied with the present; it is inadequate to meet their
need-.
* * *
Nothing shall stand but truth. Ail creeds, all bibles
shall be judged according to their true worth; not mir-
acles shall make them truer, not records of wonders
•done or necromancy, but the measure of their agree-
ment with the soul's high thirst that shall set their
value. That creed then, the ethics, which shall fulfill
most completely our highest thoughts, which shall
demand of humanity all virtue, righteousness every-
where and always, shall be our bible, our truth.
* * *
The positive basis upon which religion now rests
opens the way For a higher creed and a nobler hope
than the world has hitherto known. Already the relig-
ious conception of Herbert Spencer is winning adher-
ents in all parts of the civilized woil ', and the spirit of
free-thought has so penetrated the churches in general
that but a single step is necessary to place a large num-
ber within the pale of the religion of Evolution. While
this silent change is thus going on in the stronghold of
Christianity, those who openly declare their allegiance
to the new faith are finding in it a strength and power
of regeneration which a positive religion can alone pos-
ess, and which in fundamentally affecting their own lives
cannot fail of demonstrating its true value to the world.
* * *
The philosophy of Evolution defines evil as a mal-
adjustment in relation to the conditions of physical, moral
.and intellectual environment — that is, to the laws of uni-
versal order. It is therefore seen that evil is a necessary
condition of progress and that it is but another name for
imperfection.
-;:- * x
In the future the great mass of men will obey the
rides of conduct laid down bv their religious teachers,
but those rules, unlike many jof the rules of the past, will
find their basis in a scientific conception of what is best
for man. To see the benefit that will accrue from such
a moral teaching we have hut to compare its effects with
those of the teaching that claims to come from a super-
natural source. Having no sanction in the human mind,
it asserts its right to command without that sanction.
This once granted, it is productive of the most injurious
results; the teaching may or may not be true; if it is not
it will be obeyed till the results are indisputably proven
detrimental, and perhaps even l"iig after that. If the
teaching is essentially true, yet is so obscure that it can
not be firmly grasped by the mind the different inter-
pretations put upon it, the different opinions as to what it
really means will develop an .antagonism in practice
that can not be other than disastrous to the best interests
of man. With rules of right conduct sanctioned hv
science the future progress of the world is certain and
undeniable.
It is a true view of life that the world will at some-
time fulfill our hope; sometime, we know not when.
But we do know our dut\ and feel called upon to bring
about that cm\; our want, our aspiration to it is the
proof. Standing upon this ground there is no room for
doubt. In our high moments, when we see things
clearly, doubl is never suggested, but the thought of
a world uplifted and made beautiful in truth, seems but
a picture of a truly natural condition.
* * *
\\ hatever feeling of sympathy may lead us to a
broad interpretation ol the constitution of a church we
mu-t still feel that neither conscience nor thought can
find free development so long as it is constantly
coming into collision with an imposed creed. '1 he
position is becoming more and more unreal within the
church, for those who, having renounced the super-
natural, wish to teach what thev actually accept, and no
longer to teach that in which thev have no faith. Thev
are incessantly led into making compromises which not
only produce falsifications of the expressions of thou, lit,
but also tend to weaken their grasp upon the unalloyed
truth.
* * *
The great fundamental truths that underlie all relig-
ious conceptions are indistructable destined to live as
long as man lives. But those who take Jesus for their
master are hut giving their allegiance to the dead, who
has no word for the world of to-day. Jesus was a man
of and for the time in which he lived; and the new
world, so different from the one in which he taught,
whose hopes and purposes are so far from the hopes and
purposes held by him, cannot be satisfied with an\ in-
terpretation that can be put upon his teaching. In thank-
fulness for the truth which he gave, it turns its face
toward that larger truth of infinite developement.
* * *
The recent Andover controversy finds an echo among
the Congregationalist missionaries in India who are as
far from agreeing on the question as to the fate of the
unconverted heathen as a large and increasing number
of the clergy at home are. In a late communication ti-
the Andover Review the author, who is himself a mis-
sionary, throws some light upon the different shades of
76
THB OPEN COURT.
opinion that prevail among his brothers in the work.
While many are still thoroughly orthodox, others may
be found whose convictions are as far removed from
orthodoxy as the East is from the West, and who do
not hesitate to put their convictions into their teachings.
Still others there are who, while almost willing to admit
the falsity of the old dogmas, refrain from thinking on
the subject for fear of convincing themselves of the rea-
sonableness of their doubts. Lamentable as this last is,
it is but another illustration of the tenacity with which
men cling to old ideas when the current of criticism
threatens to bear them away.
* * *
The conception of a universal moving toward
moral order or perfection leads man to desire to
realize the possibilities of his nature, and in obeying
the moral law he is able to do this more and more.
The emotion that rises in the mind at the thought of
an ideal state of humanity is one of the great guiding
springs of action. As man advances morally, duty
and desire become one and the same.
* * *
Prof. E. 1.. Youmans left behind him a number of
rare manuscripts and important letters, including his
correspondence with Darwin, Spencer, Mill, Huxley,
Tyndall, Bain. Lubbock, Agassi/, and other distin-
guished men with whom he enjoyed an intimate
friendship. A memorial volume containing these
posthumous papers and letters, to be edited by Dr.
W. J. and Miss Eliza A. Youmans, brother and sister
of the deceased, will make a fitting tribute to the
memory of the late editor of the Popular Science
Monthly and constitute an important and valuable
addition to scientific literature.
Elizabeth Cady Stanton writes from England:
I am well, bin greatly depressed with the sad news of my
husbands death. When 1 left home he was so well and so deeply
interested getting out the third edition of his '•Reminiscences"
that I felt sure he had many years yet of life before him. But
pneumonia is always fatal in old age, and he was near eight} two.
One of the editors of Unity says, "To some of
us it seems clear that ethical culture cannot be much
promoted by admonition and instruction alone. It
is with the heart man believes unto rightsousness,
and the heart is cultivated through the religious
emotions, through church and family life, and all its
associations. To leave religion and religious associ-
ation out of the account is to cut off one of the most
important factors of all higher ethical culture."
Much depends upon the meaning attached to words
ethics and religion. Those who make ethical culture
the essential thing would include in it all which "with
the heart man believes unto righteousness," all the
good taught " through church and family life and all
its associations" and of course the fullest considera-
tion of all the factors of "ethical higher culture."
There is much they say taught in the name of religion
that is no part of ethics; but that all there is of truth
and permanent value taught by the various religious
systems comes properly within the scope and province
of ethics. When liberal thinkers shall learn to use
the same words with the same meanings, many of
their differences will be seen to have been merely
verbal.
* * #
A friend writing from Boston relates the follow-
ing anecdote, told her by a head master of one of the
schools in that city, as illustrative of the hold that a
well-known daily paper has upon the popular mind:
"The recitation was in ancient history. The pupil
was expatiating upon the topic of the Olympic games.
'A great many people went to see them,' she said,
'because it was put in the paper when they were
coming off.' 'The paper!' exclaimed the teacher.
'Did they have newspapers in those days?' 'Why,
yes,' was the reply-, 'it says so in the book, anyway;
it says the 'Herald' proclaimed them.' "
* * *
Notwithstanding the prohibition of cremation in
Italy by the Holy See this method of disposing of
the dead is quite popular in that country, where not
fewer than sixty cremation societies exist.
* * *
The press of the country has teemed with gener-
ous tributes to Mr. Beecher, fully recognizing his
genius, his eloquence, his patriotism and his far-
reaching influence as a preacher and reformer. He
was without doubt the greatest pulpit orator of his
age. The Christian Register- justly remarks: " Mr.
Beecher's eloquence was not of the grandiloquent
or orotund type. It was conversational, dramatic;
it gleamed with wit and humor or dropped into
pathos; it soared on the lofty wings of the imagina-
ation, and swooped down again into anecdote and
illustration. His discourses were lull ol windows
that let in the light, and some of them set in stained
glass which glowed with beautiful imagery."
He who frets is never the one who mends. And
when the fretter is one who is beloved, whose nearness
of relation to us makes his fretting at the weather seem
almost like a personal reproach to us, then the misery of
it becomes indeed insupportable. Most men call fretting
a minor fault — a foible, and not a vice. — He/en Hunt
"fackson.
THE OPEN COURT.
77
DARWINISM IN ETHICS.
A LECTURE GIVEN BEFORE THE CHICAGO SOCIETY FOR
ETHICAL CULTURE, JANUARY 16, 1SS7.
BY \v. Ml SALTER.
It would seem the high and noble thing to do what
is good and right of our own accord. We do not reach
the heights of morality till goodness is the free choice
of the soul. I believe that man with his wonderful
gift of reason can discern a highest good, and then,
unconstrained by all that is without him, can choose it.
This, to my mind, constitutes the incomparable dignity
of man - that he is not as a cloud driven before the
winds, but, as Geo. Eliot says, "can elect his deeds and
be the liege not of his birth, but of that good alone he
has discerned and chosen."
Nevertheless, we have a curious and profound inter-
est in the question, what is the tendency of things apart
from our own will? We all know that we are not
masters of our own life. There are conditions outside
of us to which we have to conform. To take one of
the simplest illustrations, we know that if on one of
these very cold winter days we were not sufficiently
protected against the weather, we should perish. We
must adjust ourselves to our environment- to use a
phrase that has come into vogue; we are compelled to,
if we wish to live. The tendency of thir.gs is thus to
develop prudence; nature may be said to be on the side
of those who are prudent, since those who are not she
does not permit to live.
The question is, does nature sustain any such rela-
tion to morality ? Does the force of things outside of
us incline the race to be moral ? Or is it, perchance,
favorable to immorality, or is it indifferent, so that good
and bad men thrive equally well? In other words, is
morality a private matter about which a person need
have no more serious concern than about any other
question of individual inclination ami taste, or is it
something having, whether we will or not, issues of life
and death? We naturally incline to take the former
view. When we transgress any of the laws of morality,
we like to say to ourselves that it is our own affair, and
nothing outside of us takes cogniz mce of it nor will any
grave result follow.
It is at this point that the views of Darwin have a
wonderful interest. Darwin does not wiite as an ethical
philosopher, but as a naturalist. In his famous chapters
in the Descent of Man (3d, 4th and 5th of Part First),
his object is not to give us a theory of ethics, but to
show the part which morality has played in the develop-
ment of the race. Any one who thinks that morality
is a private matter and that physical strength and mental
capacity are the only things that nature takes account
of, should read those chapters. Everywhere, according
to Darwin, among men as truly as among the lower
orders of being, there is a struggle to live; and those
who are best fitted to the conditions of life succeed and
leave offspring behind them, and those who are less
fitted tend to extinction. Any casual variation, by which
an individual has an advantage over others, is seized
upon, intensified by transmission, and perhaps in time
gives rise to a well-marked species.
Physically a man is no match for a bear or a buffalo;
in an actual tussle he would surely be worsted. None
the less is he their superior by virtue of his intelligence;
he invents a spear, a bow and arrow or a gun and
thereby outdoes them. So as between men and races
of men; variations in the direction of greater strength
of body are of slight importance compared with varia-
tions in the direction of higher mental powers; in war
itself it is not necessarily the most numerous nation or
the one with the hardiest soldiers, but the one with the
ablest generals and in possession of the most ingenious
methods of warfare that gains the victory. But Darwin
shows further that the possession of moral qualities is an
advantage in the struggle for existence, that a race with
strong moral feelings would, other things being equal,
win in a contest with another race destitute of such
feelings, in other words that nature is on the side of '
morality as truly as on the side of the strongest arm or
the largest brain. Darwinism is often interpreted in a
different way. It is often thought to sanction the efforts
of the stronger individual to push the weaker to the
wall. Let every man stand on his own feet, and those
who can't stand, let them fall - it is said. To practically
apply the doctrine: if a man can get an education, well
and good; if he can't, let him go without it — never
should he be helped. If a woman has power to get her
rights, very well; if not, let her go without them.
If a person is smart enough to defraud another, let him
do so; if he is strong enough to do violence to another
without impunity — very well, that is his right as the
stronger. This is the creed of unmeasured individualism,
of anarchism, and was well expressed by Rob Roy in
Wordsworth's poem, as the old rule,
" Th;it they should tike \\ ho have the power,
And thev should keep who run."
But it is very crude Darwinism, nay, it is opposed to
the teachings of Darwin, for according to him our
notions of what we should and should not do are derived
from the social instincts, and the social instincts contra-
dict such heartless indifference to the welfare of others
as the creed of extreme individualism allows. Doubt-
less such social anarchy did exist in the early ages of the
world, in the "ages before conscience," but the signifi-
cant fact is that the primitive races without conscience
did not perpetuate themselves, that they had no strength,
no stamina, no cohesive power in the struggle with
those superior races in whom the social instincts were
7 8
THE OPEN COURT.
developed, that so far as they do survive to-day, they
survive as savages and are on the border line between
man and the brute.
Let us observe now in detail, how morality helps to
build man up. so that by his very love of life he is
naturally deterred from those courses of conduct that
conscience condemns. A peaceful disposition is one
element of mora'ity I do not mean the disposition to
weakly submit to injuries, hut the indisposition to inflict
injuries; I mean the contrary of a violent and quarrel-
some temper. At lirst sight, it may seem as if violent
people injure others rather than themselves, as if their
violence gives them an advantage in the struggle to live.
But turn the matter round and ask, as between peaceable
men and quarrelsome men, other things being equal,
which are the more likelv to suffer violence in turn and
themselves come to an untimely end: 1 think there
cannot be a doubt that peaceful men are more likely to
survive and rear offspring than violent men. that violence
is like a boomerang striking at last the perpetrator of it,
that the wavs of violence, even in uncivilized societies,
are the wavs of death, and the ways of peace are the
wavs of life. Temperate habits arc another element of
moralitv. The intemperate man who indulges his
appetite for intoxicating drinks thinks it his own affair
and that he will not greatly suffer; but the laws of life-
think differently, they cut short his days; it is a statistical
fact that intemperate people at the age of thirty in
England are not likely to live more than thirteen or
fourteen years longer, while the expectation of life of
the average country laborer at that age is forty years.
Another element of morality is respect for woman and
the sense of the sanctity of the marriage relation. Does
it make no difference if men or women lead profligate
lives? So profligate people are apt to think. They are
rarely serious about it. Hut nature is opposed to pro-
fligacy for she will allow profligate women to have
but few if any children; she has a distaste for their
breed, she wants it stopped. In the natural course of
things, profligate men, as Darwin remarks, rarely marry;
on their side, too, the breed of ungoverned lust tends to
extinction. And both men and women, who do not
regard nature's laws, she is apt to afflict with the foulest
disease. And if in another way, men or women sin
against nature's laws and in solitude and darkness prac-
tice the crimes that the light of day would blush to look
upon, does the darkness hide them and nature take no
cognizance: Witness the weakness that comes on, the
weakness of bodv and weakness of mind, the loss of
memory, the childishness, yes, the sterility- 'tis as it
nature would cover them with contempt. And in
regard to the persistent disuse of moral feeling gener-
ally, do we realize what one of our highest scientific
authorities, Maudsley,* tells us, that bv it a man may
Pofiular Sritnc/ Monthly, Si-plembi-r. 1S7.
succeed in manufacturing insanity in his progeny, and
that insane people, if thev are allowed to propagate,
become at last a race of sterile idiots?
Look at the matter on a wider scale. Consider men
not as individuals, but as societies. If we think that
natural selection favors simply the strongest in body or
mind, consider the history of the family, the most rudi-
mentary of human societies. What would a family be
without some measure of unselfishness? To answer,
we have to go to the lowest savages. Among the
Andamanese the husband cares for his wife until the
child that is born to them is weaned. Then the mother
has to look out for herself and for her child. The
father seeks another mate. Is nature indifferent, and do
we imagine that this is a thriving tribe? The fact is
that according to a recent reporter, the Andamanese are
gradually dying out. lie saw but cine woman who had
as many as three children. Few members of the tribe
live beyond the age of forty.* And now suppose the
mothers had as- little unselfishness as the fathers, that
they let their offspring care for themselves as soon as
weaned: the tribe would probably in a generation or
two become extinct. It is some measure of unselfish
feeling that allows our race to be perpetuated at all.
Yes, Darwin shows that the social instincts to some
extent exist in the lower animal, so that there is no
impassible chasm in that respect between them and man;
timid birds will lace great danger to defend their young;
if there were no unselfishness, it is doubtful if we
should have anything in the world at all but the elements
and insensate plants, or perhaps, the very lowest forms
of animal life, whose offspring need no care; all the
higher forms of animal life, as well as men, exist
because unselfishness has watched over the beginnings
of their existence — and what mainly distinguishes human
beings from animals, along, of course, with higher intel-
ligence, is that the social instincts in men are intense!"
and cover longer periods and have a wider range;
human beings arc, according to Darwin, simply that
portion of the animal creation in whom vaiiationsin the
direction of unselfishness and intelligence have been
transmitted •■ nd perpetuated, by which thev have secured
a firmer foothold ami a more commanding place here on
the earth. Think of it. if the fishes of the sea or t he-
wild animals of the earth or even the birds of the ait-
had the fellow-feeling for one another that men have
and the intelligence, would they allow themselves to be
caught or captured or shot? Wc uld they not be a
match for man, and unless some new variations giving
greater power on the one side or the other arose, would
it not be a pitched battle between them and man? We
are men, because along with more of mind, we do care
for one another; they are animals, because they are to
such an extent dissocial, rather than social, and in a-con-
* Spencer's Sociology , I, 'V>s.
THE OPEN COURT.
79
test, each one is left so generally to fight his own battle.
And now beyond the family, consider the community
or the tribe. What parental feeling is to the family,
that community or tribal feeling is on the larger scale.
Do we think it makes no difference whether our unsel-
fishness goes beyond our families, that all we haye to do
is to care for ourselyes and our children, that patriotism
and zeal for the public welfare are idle sentiment and
that obedience to the laws is only necessary so far as it
is for our own interest? Darwin and those who have
written in his spirit do not think so, and history proves
that they are in the right. In times of peace, as one
■writer* remarks, sleek and prosperous selfishness may
give a certain element of strength to a society. But
these are not the times that test a society. It is
■when dangers arise, either from without or from within,
it is in times of peril, that the real strength and cohesive-
ness of a community are tested. Can it put down
internal dissensions, that threaten its lile, can it withstand
a foreign foe? For, as Darwin shows, not only individ-
uals struggle to live, but communities and nations, and
natural selection works to build up and destroy peoples
■with the same necessity and rigor with which it oper-
ates to determine the fate of individual lives. Who
does not see the truth of what Darwin points out that
even in the case of animals, who live in a body and
defend themselves or attack their enemies in concert,
they must be in some degree faithful to one another,
and if they have a leader be obedient to him — else they
will likely be exterminated? How much more truly is
this the case with men ! Suppose the members of a
tribe are given to murder, robbery, and treachery among
themselves, how long will they hold together even
if they have no external foe, and if they have, how
easily will they be subjugated? The fact is that a tribe
or community cannot live at all, unless there is more of
morality than of immorality in it; and the great amount
of wrong and crime that exist in some savage com-
munities, seem so only on account of the higher stand-
ards of morality that are recognized in civilized com-
munities and do not interfere with the fact that their
practice is ahead of that of savages who scarcely live
in communities at all and have few if any fixed cus-
toms or laws. Whether a people has any disinterested
love of virtue or not, they must learn it; for only those
■who do learn it, i. e., some measure of self-control, of
faithfulness, of public spirit, of obedience to law, survive,
and the rest, because they do not meet the conditions
which nature requires, perish. Darwin says in so many
-words, "a tribe including many members who, from
possessing in a high degree the spirit- of patriotism,
fidelity, obedience, courage and sympathy, were always
* Prof . C C. Evcrelt on "The New Ethics," in Unitarian Review, Octo-
ber, 1S7S — a most suggestive and a! times eloquent article. I am also indebted
to Prof. Georg von Gizycki's valuable article on " Kthics and the Development
Theory," in the Popular Science Monthly, July, i$S: (translated from the
Deutsche Rnmlschau).
ready to aid one another, and to sacrifice themselves for
the common good, would be victorious over most other
tribes; and this would be natural se'ection. At all times
throughout the world tribes have supplanted other
tribes; and as morality is one important element in their
success, the standard of morality ami the number of
well-endowed men will thus everywhere tend to rise
and increase.1'
All this holds good equally of civilized peoples. The
same things that lifted the social savage out of the ranks
of unsocial savages or animals and gave them the pre-
eminence, lift the civilized man out of the ranks of sav-
agry altogether anil give to civilized states rightful
pre-eminence in the world. Crude interpreters of Dar-
win's theory would have us eschew all philanthropy,
shut up our asylums and hospitals, abolish poor laws, and
let the weak and the helpless take care of themselves
or die. Prof. Sumner, of Yale College, suggests* that
the advance of civilization, instead of raising the victims
from the bottom, may very possibly crush them out
altogether. But this would not be rising' to a higher
stage of civilization, but would be relapsing into barbar-
ism, copying after the Indians, who leave their feeble
comrades to perish on the plains, or the Fijians, who,
when their parents get old or fall ill, bury them alive,
or those animals who expel a wounded animal from the
herd or gore or worry it to death. Nay, there are sav-
ages and even animals that are ahead in sentiment of
these heartless Darwinians; tor Darwin tells us of Indian
crows that fed two or three of their blind companions,
and says he himself saw a dog who never passed a
cat who lay sick in a basket, without giving her a few
licks with his tongue, the surest sign of kind feeling in
a dog. Destroy the social instincts, dry up the founts of
sympathy and pity in man, and you s'.rike at the social
bond itself; society would be dissolved into anarchy,
and the long, slow, painful work of building up the
race of man would have to be undertaken again from
the beginning. Let any community to-day try to
organize itself on the extreme individualistic plan
and show no charity, each man looking after himself
alone, those getting justice who are able to get it, and
the rest putting up with the denial of it as best they
can; let it enter into competition with other com-
munities, who take care of their poor and their sick and
give justice to every man, woman and child in their
midst, though there may be some who cannot raise a
finger to get justice for themselves; let the struggle
come to a clash of arms, and will any one doubt what
the result will be? Selfishness, Prof. Everett says, will
give its money, it will not give its life for the com-
mon cause. If the social spirit has been weak in peace,
it will not by a miracle become suddenly strong in
war. The unsocial community will go down, as it
* As reported in Ne:" York Times, January 1 or 7, 1883.
So
THE OPEN COURT.
deserves to go down, before the enthusiasm, the courage,
the devotion of men that have been bred in a social
community to habits of sympathy and public spirit.
Yes, if the community, whose principle was "every
man for himself," were by a bit of good fortune isolated
and never had to enter into a struggle with other com-
munities, I believe in time it would perish from dis-
sensions within itself, it would disintegrate like any
organism of matter whose particles are no longer
held together by any common attraction and from
which the animating breath of life had fled.
The thing that builds up a community, a nation, is
not less, but more sympathy and public spirit — more of
all the virtues that spring from these sources. Think
for a moment simply of obedience, reverence for law,
whether the law is made by a chief or by a people for
itself. What strength, what an almost irresistible power
Would a whole people trained to such a habit have. The
Spartans were not equal in intellectual power to other
Grecian states; but for a short time they held the
supremacy over all Greece. And when I think of the
three hundred who defended the pass at Thermopylae
against the Persians and held it at such fearful odds
until their last man had fallen, and remember that ac-
cording to their poet nothing but obedience to the laws
of Sparta kept them at their post, I do not wonder that
a country' that bred such a soldiery rose once to the very
head of Greece.
" Stranger, go ami to the Spartans tell,
That here, obeying their commands, we lell,'
stands graven on the rock as their memorial.
Socrates anticipated the thought of Darwin, and of
Bagehot,* one of the most fruitful thinkers who has
followed in Darwin's wake, when he said that that state
in which the citizens pay most respect to the laws, is in
the best condition in peace and is invincible in war;f
and Socrates himself had such a sense of the sanctity of
the laws that he refused to flatter and supplicate the
judges at his trial (which the laws forbade), and al-
though had he consented to do anything of the kind, he
might easily have been acquitted, as Xenophon says,|
he preferred to die abiding by the laws, rather than
transgressing them to live. What could withstand,
other things being equal, a nation of men like Socrates?
I believe that the things that tend to make a people
strong, permanently strong, that tend to give it a lasting
advantage in the struggle for existence, that make it the
fittest and always the fittest to survive, are good things,
moral things, things that conscience from its ideal stand-
point would approve. This does not apply to tempo-
rary victories, but to those that are held, that are lasting.
Respicejincm — look to the end and issue of all things.
No one can doubt that those great eastern empires that
* Vide his Physics and Politics.
+ Xenophon's Memorabilia iv, 4, 1^.
X Oitto, iv 4, 4,.
we have glimpses of in connection with Hebrew history
and legend, the Egyptian, the mighty Assyrian, the
Babylonian and Persian, perished in turn because they
were not fit to live. No one can doubt that Greece fell
a prey to Rome, when she was no longer worthy to rule
herself. No one can doubt that imperial Rome itself
fell when it was best she should fall, and that it was
owing to natural selection that the barbarians of the
north became then the leaders of the world's progress,
since out of their splendid energy and purer stock the
foremost nations of a new world have come. It is diffi-
cult to speak of the present and the future. But the
same laws will hold good. Always, I believe, will the
nations that have anything like a permanent leadership
in the world's affairs be the best nations — I mean those
that have the largest amount of virtue and intelligence
within their borders. It may be indeed that no nations
at present existing will be permanent; this would not
be contrary to natural selection, but a proof of its power.
It may be that none of them have the conditions of per-
manency. For natural selection is, I believe, as high in
its demands, as severe, as unrelenting as any ideal of
the Deity that has ever been conceived. Nations that
are full of selfishness and injustice cannot stand; they
will be turned and overturned; the great powers of
nature will not allow them to last. Nations with ruling
classes given up to luxury, to effeminate habits, to wan-
tonness, to " the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes-
and the pride of life," and to contempt of the poor and
the weak, will not stand; "behold, this was the iniquity
of Sodom, pride, fullness of bread, and abundance of
idleness; neither did she strengthen the hand of the poor
and needy. And they were haughty and committed
abomination before me; therefore I took them awav as
I saw good."* So speaks natural selection today, and
always will, for it is a power as dread, as summary and
as almighty as Jehovah. Nations full of violence toward
weaker countries, eager with yawning necks to swallow
them up and digest them for their own purposes, will
not stand; they who are insolent and know no right
above the sword shall perish by the sword; the power
of natural selection is a moral power, and nothing, no
success or triumph conceived and begotten in injustice,
shall stand. This great judge of all the earth holds up
the balances and says to the nations, for every act of in-
justice thou shalt pay. England, France, Germany,
America, — each thinks it is dear to the heart of Destiny
and cannot fail; and Destiny whispers through all the
experience of the past, I care for none of you, you
may go, have your little day, and pass away as Babylon
and Greece and Rome have done before you; I care for
justice, for a state of virtuous citizens with pure homes
and clean hearts and honest lips, men and women 'who
put truth above life and would rather their state should
* E/.ekiel, xvi, 49-50.
THE OPEN COURT.
8 1
fall than that it should rest on injustice; I call for this,
give it to me, O sons of men, and vou shall be dear to
me, I shall cherish vou, and your work shall stand while
the earth lasts.
This is how, my friends, 1 interpret the ethics ->f
Darwin. Darwin does not give us a theory of ethics,
or rather so far as he does I should have something to
say in criticism of it; but he does us a greater service, I
almost think, than if he had given us a perfect theory,
he shows how ethics works in tlie world. It is a great
and consoling belief that the powers of nature are on
the side of man's struggles after justice and a perfect
good. The Might)' Power, hid from our gaze by the
thin screen of nature and of nature's laws, is not in love
with you or me, but he is with our struggles after a per-
fect right, for to them he gives fmition and they are the
salt that keeps the earth from spoiling, and their effect
is undying, while all else is being- thwarted, cut short
and passes away. Every brave act we do and every
true word we utter helps to build up human life here
on the earth ; and every mean act and false word tend to
pull it down and destrov it. I have spoken of peoples
and nations; let us not think that these are things too
large for individual actions to count 'upon. The fate of
a nation depends at last not on kings or parliaments or
legislatures, but on the lives and characters of the in-
dividual men and women who compose it. As the
Statement of Principles of our Spcietv puts it, the well-
being of the state depends upon the well-doing of its
individual members. We think we are not responsible
for the evil and wrong there are in society. We are to
the extent that we submit to them. A great wrong can-
not be done bv a community unless there is the spirit of
wrong or of tolerance for wrong, widespread among its
members. Each one of us, no matter how unimportant
we seem, counts as a factor in the public sentiment from
which good things or bad things are born. I came
across a striking passage in a writer the other day:
" There are current maxims in church and in state, in
society , in trade, in law, to which we yield obedience. For
this obedience everyone is responsible. For instance, in
trade and in the profession of law, everyone is the ser-
vant of practices the rectitude of which his heart can
onlv half approve — everyone complains of them, yet all
are involved in them. Now when such sins reach their
climax, as in the case of national bankruptcy or an un-
just acquittal, there may be some who are, in a special
sense, the actors in the guilt; but evidently for the bank-
ruptcy each member of the community is responsible in
that degree and so far as he has himself acquiesced in
the duplicities of public dealing; every careless juror,
every unrighteous judge, every false witness, has done
his part in the reduction of society to that state in which
the monster injustice has been perpetrated."* That
* Robertson's Sermons, 3d series, p. 147.
came to me as a startling thought. Ves, you do count.
And the only difference is that you may count in those
influences that help to build man up here on the earth
or in those that tend to weaken and undo him. 'ion
may build on the sands and the floods will come and
wash your work away, or on the rock and your work
will stand forever. You may help to make a nation of
money-getters, close, had, contemptuous of the weak,
sacrificing honor and shame, and the sense of humanity
and life itself for the sake of amassing riches, only to
see it, if you could live on, crumble and disintegrate and
its wealth in ruins, or you may cast in your lot with
those who would be lovers of their kind, who would
rather see justice done than amass riches, who would be
clean in life and honor woman and protect the defence-
less, and if vou do not win the nation to your side, vou
or those who follow after you will form the saving rem-
nant, bv whom and through whom a new and wiser
nation may arise. Men trying to rear states without
justice in their hearts are like Sisyphus rolling his giant
stones up hill, that nevertheless fall of natural gravity;
and when one sees them anxious, striving, thinking with
laws and constitutions and courts and armies to buttress
themselves about, laboring so with their destiny, one
thinks of poor Sisyphus, in Homer's lines, heaving and
straining, the sweat the while pouring down his limbs
and the dust rising upward from his head. "Wash ye,
make you clean, put away the evil of your doings from
before mine eyes; seek justice, relieve the oppressed,'
is the voice of natural selection as well as of Israel's
God; else your work is vanity and all the labor of it and
all the pain of it — all are for nothing; the great God ot
the world will not permit it to stand.
Two applications, and 1 am done. Think ot the
Athenian race, whose average ability Francis Galton,
another writer who has followed in Darwin's wake,
says,* was nearly two grades higher than om own,
(*■ e., as much as our race is above that of the
African negro. Why did this marvelously-gifted race
decline? Galton says because of social immorality,
because, in plain language, marriage became unfashion-
able and was avoided, and courtesans held sway. Now
I say every man to-day, whether immoral or not, who
has light thoughts of woman, who is not indignant
when she is dishonored, who lets light jests pass his lips
or lewd thoughts linger in his mind, helps to swell the
tide of our social immorality, for he helps to make the
atmosphere in which it grows. Acts do not come from
nothing, they come from thoughts and words and what
we hear others say, from a thousand and one nameless
things that seem to count for nothing.
On the other hand let us not imagine that the quiet,
homely virtues, the graces of the heart, that kindness-
and pity and tenderness count for nothing with the great
' Hereditary Getthts, p. 34.3.
82
THE OPEN COURT.
powers of nature with which we deal. Never let us
think that physical strength is everything; it is not
everything even in the animal world. As Prof. Everett
has beautifully said, to the powers of natural selection,
■" the delicate, the graceful, the tender, the beautiful, are as
•dear as the fierce and the strong. It was the great law of
natural selection itself that taught the nightingale to sing
and that painted the humming bird with his changeful
hues. It is this that whispers to the timid hare to flee, and
this that binds the gentle sheep together in their harmless
federation." The gentler virtues all count in humanity's
struggle for existence. As there are no light thoughts
of human suffering that do not help to make men
cruel, so there is no sympathy and pity that do not help
to draw men nearer together and make them stronger in
any time of danger or distress. Quiet fortitude in a
mother makes brave sons and daughters. Love in peace
makes heroism in times of danger. Selfishness disinte-
grates and disorganizes, love builds up and welds
together. Nations stand not on dollars, not on armies,
not on police, but on righteousness, and if unrighteous-
ness becomes rampant in a community, not all its dollars
or its police will save it. You and I count, my friends,
living quiet inconspicuous lives as we do; oh, let us
count for good, for purity, for unselfishness, for all
that makes human life strong- and stable on the earth.
FURTHER COMMENTS ON MR. HEGELER'S ESSAY.
Chicago, March 12th, 1887.
B. F. Underwood, Esq., City:
Dear Sir — Kindly publish in No. 3 the attached
communication and editorial note, clipped from the
La Salle Republican.
I hold their wishes to be both sincere from their
standpoints — the one that of an ardent Catholic.
Sincerely Yours,
Edward C. Hegeler.
SCIENTIFIC ETHICS.
The Open Court is a new Chicago publication,
issued fortnightly, and " devoted to the work of estab-
lishing ethics and religion upon a scientific basis."
The feature that makes this periodical of interest to
La Salle any more than the hundreds of others of its
class is that our fellow-townsman, Mr. E. C. Hegeler,
is one of the incorporators of the publishing com-
pany, a financial backer of the enterprise and a con-
tributor to the first issue of this organ of scientific
ethics and religion. The first article, by W. J. Potter,
is about the only one seriously worthy of considera-
tion as a scientific effort to explain the mystery of
man's relation to man, and the something these
scientific (?) men call nature. Mr. Hegeler's effort
is that of a man with excellent vision walking in dark
places and seeking with outstretched hands some-
thing he cannot find. His scientific ( ?) attempt to
explain the immortality of the soul by the theory
that while individual souls become extinct at the
time of the physical dissolution, the aggregate soul
of our humanity lives on and evolves into higher
and better forms in each succeeding generation, is
very foolish and too much of a theoretical abstrac-
tion to conform to the principles of sound philosophy.
Not only this, but such a theory is opposed to the
convictions, practices and laws of the entire human
race in every age and clime, so far as history, tradi-
tion or investigation have yet revealed them to us.
When these scientific men endeavor to diffuse the
individuality of every distinct human soul, with its
individual responsibility for its free acts and words,
its distinct, real and conscious existence after the
physical dissolution, and its possibility of attaining a
perfect and worthy end by its individual effort in the
nebula of the confused, insane and vapory nonsense
of pananimism, then they not only take a false posi-
tion but they degrade humanity, maintain an attitude
adverse to their own personal actions and do a great
wrong to society. '
The effect of such a theory upon society would
be not only a great wrong, but a disaster, and reduce
mankind to a mass of immoral animals wherein self-
ishness and rapine would rule with physical violence,
and the laws of justice and humanity be as naught.
It would remove the adequate motive which prompts
men to be good, and leave in its place only a vapid
idealism, negative and withering. These highfalutin
theories may captivate and amuse the minds of
wealthy philanthropic theorists who are too proud to
follow the sure paths laid down by nobler though
humbler minds, or they may entertain the innate
capacities of the flatterers and sycophants who bask
in the smiles of wealthy patrons, but the)' can never
supplant the burning truths of Christianity sown in
the depths of the human heart, and reaped in the
harvest of justice, faith, hope and eternal love. The
Open Court may be a forum for scoffing at the true
good, but it can never in its present form be a hall
of light and truth in which men can learn the right
way to the better end. Ronoco.
The Republican has received no request from any-
one to review or even notice The Open Court, but
the critical comments of our correspondent, as found
elsewhere, lead us to remark in connection there-
with, that the only proofs thus far in life presented
to us in support of the theory that man has a soul
comes under the head of heresay evidence. First-
class courts generally rule out that kind of testi-
mony. It strikes some people that the tenets of
THE OPEN COURT.
83
the whole list of religions are founded on neither
axiomatic nor demonstrable truths, but something
established by tradition, which, by the way, is not a
very distant relative of what is commonly known as
superstition. —La Salic Republican.
CORRESPONDENCE.
RESOLUTIONS BY THE F. R. A.
To the Editors: Concord, Mass., March 10, 1SS7.
The following resolutions have been passed by the Executive
Committee of the Free Religious Association, with a request that
thev be published in The Open Court.
Resolved, That in company with all friends of progress and
admirers of puritv and independence in journalism, we regret
deeply the inevitable discontinuance of 'I In Index, and that we
are satisfied that this is not due to any lack of fidelity, energy or
ability either in its noble and gifted founder, Dr. F. E. Abbott, or
in his successors.
Resolved, That we hold the names of its recent editors,
Messrs. Wm. J. Potter and B. F. Underwood, who have con-
ducted it most ably under the auspices of the Free Religious
Association, in gratitude and honor, and that we now render our
warm thanks, not onlv to them, but to all who have aided the
paper with pen or purse.
In sending the above I take the opportunity of expressing mv
own confidence in The Open Court, as was prophesied by Mr.
Wm. C. Gannett at the supper of the F. R. A. in Boston, on
November 18th, " the soul of The Index is marching on."
Fred. M. Holland, Sec'v F. R. A.
SCHILLER'S GODS OF GREECE.
( Freely translated in part. )
BY B. W. BALL.
Yotir festive ritual never knew
Harsh penance or austere devotion —
The happy were akin to vou —
All hearts throbbed with a glad emotion;
For then the Holy was the Fair,
To Beauty's scepter all submitting,
Man's raptures gods blushed nut to share,
If Muse and Graces were permitting.
No specter o'er the bed of death
Hung ghastly then, but sad affection
Kissing received the parting breath,
And Love his torch lowered in dejection,-
Whereart thou, lovelv world: Again
Return, O vanished bloom of yore!
Save in the Land of Song vour reign,
O happy Golden Time, is o'er,
Dishallowed meadows, forests mourn —
No glimpse of Deity is given —
From disenchanted e.irth forlorn
Her haunting life of t^nds \\ as driven.
Out of the cold North breathing dun
A blast that t'airv world invaded,
And, while exalted was the One,
The mythic host before him faded,
In yonder starry vault I find,
My lost Selene,* thee no more,
While hollow echo on the wind
Answers mv call from wood and shor
Unconscious of the joy she yields —
Of her own splendor unaware —
Bl nd to the plastic power that wie'ds
And fashions her forever fair —
Deaf to the voices in her praise —
Like lifeless pendulum's vibration.
Lo, godless Nature mow obeys.
Slave-like, the law of gravitation.
Still ruled ye with dominion bland,
Ear.h's happy generations swaying,
Fair Beings out of Fable-land,
When all the young world went a- Maying,
And still thy fanes with wreaths were bright,
O Amathusian Aphrodite!
Around the Truth the drapery lair
Of Poesy was woven then,
Life's fullness streamed through earth and air,
As it will never stream again —
To make her loved and lovelv man
Nature enriched with will a'nd feeling.
So that whate'er his eyes might scan
Was trace of Deity revealing.
i
Where only now, as sages say,
Soulless an orb of fire is burning,
Carborne, a stately God of Day,
In ether blue men were discerning;
An Oread haunted every hill —
With every tree a Dryad died —
And with its silvery foam each rill
Was deemed from Naiad's urn to tflide.
To old Deucalion's r.ice d .scending
Enamored Deities still came;
For mortal maid his Hocks while tending
Apollo felt a lover"s flame;
Alike round heroes, g< ds and men
Love did his rosv bondage twine —
Mortals and gods and heroes then
All knelt at Amathusia's shrine.
Day dies, but with each tresh morn shines
Resurgent from its grave diurnal;
The moon, waxing and waning, winds
Like spindle swift its round eternal,
Useless, to Poet's Land they flew,
Their home, the gods of earth's young days
The world no more their guidance knew,
But held itself self poised in space.
Yes, homeward to the Poet's Land,
The bright gods flying bore away
All that was beautiful and grand —
Life's melodies and colors gay —
Saved from the whelming stream of time
O'er heights of Pindus still they hover,
Immortally in song sublime
They only live, whose life is over.
* Stlene, Greek name of the moon.
BOOK NOTICES.
Philosophical Realism. By William Icrin Gill, author of
" Evolution and Progress" and "Analytical Processes." Bos-
ton : Index Association, 18S5; pp. 292.
The leading ohject of this little volume in paper covers, com-
posed mainly of a series of papers printed a few years ago at
considerable intervals in The Judex, is to show that the only reality
is Mind; that material things have no existence per se; that they
are but " mortal modes of mortal thought," which pass away and
perish with the power of sensibility which begot them, mind alone
THE ORKN COURT.
remaining and enduring forever. Mr. Gill's philosophical realism is
idealism, and this our author holds is the goal toward which all
thought and. action clearly tend.
The work shows acquaintance with the various schools of
speculative philosophy and it is marked by much acuteness of
thought and ingenuity in anticipating and replying to objections-
This volume, like the other works of Mr. Gill, is independent in
spirit, and contains chapters to which no orthodox theologian is
like to give assent. Among its defects are needless repetitions
and obscurities of expression which detract from its value, but in
spite of which it is an able contribution to speculative thought
Practical Piety. From Discourses delivered at Central Music
Hall, Chicago. By Jenkins Lloyd Jones. Chicago: Charles
II. Kerr cV Co., 1S87; pp. 60. Cloth, price 30 cent-,.
As samples of these sermons we quote the following: •' When
our lives are most in attune with high things, how many clamorous
wants recede into the background" (from Sermon on " The Econi-
mies of Religion"). " Ideas, the high price of which tempt us to
shrink from the purchase, endure, priceless gems in the cabinet of
the universe, outshining and outlasting the stars themselves.1'
("Bread versus Ideas.") "Your brain is fertile with the deposits
of your ancestors. Your blood is rich with the triumphs of your
forerunners. Your heart is made tender with the tears of the
mother* that were unappreciated in life and are forgotten in
death." (" Present Sanctities.") "The claims of a child are: 1st, to
be well horn; 2d, to a welcome into the world; 3d, to the sym-
pathy of its elders; 4th, to a long childhood; 5th, to a practical
education; 6th, to a moral training ; 7th, to religious influences,
spiritual aptitude, an appetite for heavenly things, a thirst for per-
fection." ("The Claims of the Children.")
Treasure Trove for March is full of bright reading for
bright girls and bovs. Over a score of illustrations give point to
the stories, poems, biographical sketches and instructive articles
of the number. Of these three are portraits of Gen. Hunt,
Florence Nightingale and James Fenimore Cooper. 151 Wabash
Ave.. Chicago; $1.00 per year. Treasure Trove Publishing Co.
A very timelv article, in view of the recent earthquakes, is the
opening one in Scribner's Monthly lor March, entitled " The
StabiliU of the Earth," by N. S. Shaler, which is accompanied by
a dozen pertinent illustrations by first-class artists. The frontispiece
is a striking portrait of M. Thiers, French historian and statesman.
One of the most interesting papers of this number is contributed by
Hon. E. B. Washburne, ex-minister to France, "Reminiscences
of the Siege and Commune" another is that entitled "What
is an Instinct," by Prof. Win. James, of Harvard College. The
serial stories are by Harold Frederic, II. C. Runner and " ]. S. of
Dale." There are also short stories by Joel Chandler Harris,
Robert Gordon Butler and T. R. Sullivan, and poems by R
Armvtage and Andrew Lang.
The Ar 1 A.m.vi elk for March is a very lively and agreeable
number. It is curious to learn that the great religious picture,
"Christ Before Pilate," has been bought by the Philadelphia "big
dry-goods dealer," Wanamaker, as an aid to his business, while it is
reported, though the report is not confirmed, that Hurler has
bought the $100,000 Rembrandt, to show to everyone who buys
fifty cents worth of molasses candy. It has been found profitable
to put a big Bongereau in a bar-room, while sometimes the pictures
have proved too attractive and diverted the attention of the custom-
ers from buying. Can it be that the shop and the saloon are to
be the patrons of Art instead of the palace and the Church? If so,
what will Art become.' Will it pander to the lowest taste of its
patrons, or will it really represent the religion of the great mass
of humanity — and tell of the life which is lived, often purelv and
heroically — amid the turmoil and strife of business? A complete
collection of Millet's etchings, owned by Mr. Keppel, of New-
York, must afford a rare treat to all lovers of this great master.
Greta tells good news of the Boston Art Museum — first, that it
has secured the services of Mr. S. K. Koehler to take charge of
its valuable collection of engravings. Mr. Koehler is very much
interested, also, in forming a historical collection of American
engravings and all contributions to it will be welcomed and
properly arranged. The hope that the museum will be able to add
a new wing to the building this year is also a delightful prospect.
It will enable the museum to exhibit treasures already in posses-
sion and make room for more, which will surely come. The illus-
trations in this number are very attractive. The colored plate of
Titmice, by Miss Ellen Welby, seems to ring with the freshness
and gladness of spring. The little wood-cuts are remarkably
good. Dupre's Twilight and Schreyer's Gipsy Encampment are
full of feeling. The Patient Donkey tells the story of the weary
days' wandering. The little genre from Meyer Von Bremen, "Too
Hot," has all the tenderness and naivete of that charming master,
while "Betsy Prig and Sairey Gamp Taking Tea " do justice to
those inimitable sketches of Dickens. The ornamental designs
adapted from flowers are very good. One gives the leaves and
blossoms of the pitcher-plant, and would be very effective in many
styles of embroidery or decorative work. The reproduction of a
pen-drawing by F. Hopkinson Smith, after Ziem, gives much of
the charm of light and shadow of his Venetian pictures.
WHAT THE PRESS SAYS OF THE OPEN COURT.
The Open Cocrt, which hikes the place of the Index, and is now published
at Chicago us a fortnightly, is a great improvement on that rather unequal
journal and brings to the front, with their affirmations of positive thought,
the principal radical thinkers of the country. There is not an
article in it which a thinking man can afford to skip, and if the periodical c in
lie maintained at ils present level, it will speedily become one of the influential
papers of the United States, in all that pertains to vital thinking. It will he an
honor to any man to reach the public through its columns. — Boston Dotty
Herald.
T\ pographically speaking The Open Cocrt makes a handsome appearance,
as it is neatly printed, and its contents are rather interesting, being a decided
improvement on any other religious journal that comes to this office, now that
the Index has disappeared. — Boston Investigator .
The first number just out, is a notable issue both in contents and tvpograph
ical appearance, and is a worthy champion of the cause to which it is dedicaied.
—Boston Budget.
It will doubtless find readers to whom it will become a necessity and an effi-
cient helper. — Chicago Tribune.
It was to late last week, when we discovered our new contemporary, Till-.
Open COURT, nestling among our exchanges, to extend to it a fraternal
welcome. We stretch our hand across the continent, however, this week, to
shake hands with this new representative of free thought. The Open Couh 1
is what in the West would be called a " broad-gauge " paper, and it starts with
a good head of steam and well-freighted columns. From the Register's stand
point, it does not seem exactly as if The Open Cockt were 00 the right track,
theologically; and, if Orthodoxy is right, the final experience of our contempt,
rarv must be one of wreck and conflagration. But we are glad to say that it
exhibits high ability as well as freedom in thought; and we may be sure, under
Mr. Underwood's editorship, that its moral tone will be lofty and commanding.
— Christian Register.
The number before us is beautifully printed, and judging from the cursory
perusal we have been able to give it, is able and entertainingly edited. — Dovj.
agiac (Mich.) Times.
Both in appearance and matter it is attractive. — Unity.
The first issue gives promise of a brilliant career. — Sentinel Advertiser,
1 Hope Valley, R. I.I
It is a fortnightly journal, very handsomely printed, neatly made up, and one
of its good features is that il is of convenient size and form for references and
binding. A hasty inspection leads us to anticipate much pleasure from its fort-
nightly visits.— Aft. Deseret (Me.) Herald.
It is a successor of ttie Boston Index, which was the organ of Free Religious
Movement, but on a somewhat more "advanced" plane. Its contributors
represent all phases of religious thought. — Ottavja lOot.) Free Press.
The Open Court
A Fortnightly Journal,
Denoted to the Work of Establishing Ethics and Religion Upon a Scientific Basis.
Vol. I. No. 4.
CHICAGO, MARCH 31, 1887.
\ Three Dollars per Year.
1 Sin^l Copies, 15 cts.
A HINT FROM FRANKLIN.
BY JOHN" BURROUGHS,
In his autobiography, Franklin speaks of a certain
sect of the Dunkers of his time, who had wisely refused
to print their confession of faith, lest as the}' progressed in
spiritual knowledge, they he too much hound by it and
it proye a bar and a hindrance to them. "When we
were first drawn together as a society," said the Dunker,
"it had pleased God to enlighten our minds so far as to
see that some doctrines which were esteemed truths
were errors and that others which we had esteemed
errors were real truths. From time to time he has been
pleased to afford us further light, and our principles have
been improying and our errors diminishing." Franklin
adds, that "this modesty in a sect is perhaps a single
instance in the history of mankind, every other sect sup-
posing itself in possession of all truth, and that those
who differ are so far in the wrong; like a man traveling
in foggy weather, those at some distance before him in
the road he saw wrapped up in the fog as well as those
behind him, and also the people in the fields on either
side, but near him all appears clear, though, in truth, he
is as much in the fog as any of them." These Dunkers
were indeed wise in their day and generation, and
Franklin himself was, perhaps, as little in the fog
engendered by narrowness and dogmatism as any man
of his times. If there is one thing certain in the his-
tory of mankind it is that sects do outgrow their creeds
and are compelled to pull down and build larger or else
be terribly pinched for room. Probably every one of
the evangelical churches is to-day more or less pinched
by its confessions of faith. No one can read the
debate of the Congregational ministers last fall at Des
Moines, on the subject of Foreign Missions, Future
Probation, etc., without seeing how keenh' the finer and
more expansive spirit among them felt the hard limita-
tions of their creed. The Andover professors have
tried to enlarge the creed a little, or rather, they haye
tried to stretch it so as to make it less galling to the
modern humanitarian feeling, and for this they are now
arraigned, and by many of their brethren, already con-
demned. What pagans and heathens most of us still
are in opinion, hardly yet more than half liberated from
the most groveling and materialistic superstitions of the
pre-Christian world. Heaven is still a place with our
creed makers, hell is still an infernal abode, God is still
a Moloch or a Baal, Christ is still the victim sacrificed
upon the altar to conciliate an offended deity, religion is
still a doctrine and a ceremony, man is still the spirit of
capricious and super-human powers; justice is still
repriyal and reversal; there is wrath and a feeling of
destruction in heaven, and the day of judgment is still
an assizes adjourned to some future time. Creeds in
our day harden the heart; they shock our religious sensi-
bilities; they make atheists and scoffers.
In a city near me, there is a large cemetery, in a
neglected corner of which is a multitude of children's
graves which have the appearance of being outcasts?
reprobates; and so they are. These children were not
baptized, therefore they cannot be buried in consecrated
ground; their blameless little souls are in heli, and their
bodies are huddled together here in this neglected
corner. This is a glimpse of the beauty of the Catholic
creed. The [ewish Papalists used to believe that the
.utterance of certain magical words engraved upon the
seal of Solomon would transform a man into a brute, or
a brute into a man. The Catholics ascribe the same
magical power to water in the hands of a priest. When
the service is read and the unconscious infant is bap-
tized, at that moment a miraculous change is wrought in
its nature, and Rome says, with true Christian charity,
"let lvm be accursed" who believes it not. The mere
knowledge of such things is hurtful. And it requires
rare Christian forbearance to read the Andover creed,
and not fall from the grace of brotherly love. Is it not
easy to see what short work Jesus would have made of
these creed mongers, the friend of publicans and sinners,
the rebuker of formalists, the comtemner of life service,
who laid all the emphasis upon the condition of the
heart and the attitude of the spirit, who said to the chief
priest of the popular religion of his time: "The publi-
cans and harlots go into the Kingdom of Heaven before
you ? "
Our doctors of divinity talk glibly of the growth of
religious thought, but seem to lose sight of the fact that
growth of religious thought means more or less a decay
of old beliefs. There is no growth in anything without
a casting off and a leaving of something behind. Growth
in science is to a great extent the discovery of new facts
and principles, which render the old theories and conclu-
sions untenable. See how much we have had to unlearn
and leave behind us by reason of Darwin's; labors and
86
THE OPEN COURT.
further advances already lessen the significance of some
of his principles. But it may be said that religion has
not to do with outward facts and laws like science, but
with inward spiritual conditions. Then why seek to
embodv its final truths in formal propositions, as if they
were matters of exact demonstration like science? The
creeds treat religion as objective fact, something to be
proved to the understanding and to be lodged in a sys-
tem of belief, like any of the teachings of physical
science. Regarded as such, it is always exposed to the
inquiry: Is it true? Is it final? Does it agree with the
rest of our knowledge? Does it keep pace with the pro-
gress of science? If it is a subjective condition, if the
Kingdom of Heaven is really within, as Christ taught,
then the expression of it in outward forms of belief and
creed must change as much as any other philosophy or
metaphvsics change. A noble sentiment mankind will
doubtless always admire ; a heroic act, self sacrifice, mag-
nanimity, courage, enthusiasm, patriotism will always
awaken a quick response; so will religion as devotion,
or piety, or love, or as an aspiration after the highest
good, but as an intellectual conception of God and of
the manner of his dealings with man, it must be subject
to change and revision like all other intellectual concep-
tions. Where actual verification cannot take place as in
science or mathematics, belief must forever fluctuate like
the forms and colors of summer clouds. The subject of it
may always be the same — God, the soul, the eternal life,
but the relation of these and their final meanings can
never be once and forever settled. Theology is at best
only a tentative kind of science. Its conclusions cannot
have anything like the certitude of scientific truth be-
cause they are not capable of verification. Principal
Tulloch in his Movements of Religions Thought in
Britian, had the courage to say, that " the idea that
theology is a fixed science, with hard and fast proposi-
tions, partaking of the nature of infallibility, is a super-
stition which cannot face the light of modern criticism."
Tullnch further indicates that the true rational stand-
point as to creeds and formulas, is a profound distrust of
them as professing "to sum up Divine Truth. Useful as
' aids to faith', they are intolerable as limitations of faith."
And " limitations of faith " most of the creeds undoubt-
edly are. But the drift of religious feeling, if not of
religious opinion, is undoubtedly away from them.
Most Churches keep their creed pretty well in the back
ground. When has any one heard a doctrincal sermon?
The creeds have been retired to the rear because they
are no longer available in front. The world no longer
asks what a man believes, but what is he? What is his
intrinsic worth as a man? Is he capable of honesty, ot
sobriety, of manliness? Vital original qualities, and not
speculative opionions, are certainly what tell most in
this world, however it may be in the next. Religion as
a sentiment is strong in these times, but religion as a
dogma is weak. The growing disbelief of which we
hear so much, is a disbelief in the infallibility of dogma,
not a disbelief in the need of godliness, purity, spirit-
uality, and noble disinterested lives. These things move
us as much or more than ever, but in the creeds we hear
only the rattling of dry bones. How had the Puritan
theology been sloughed off by Emerson, and yet what
a pure, stimulating, ennobling, religious spirit shone in
that man, and still shines in his works. The "saving
grace" of heroic thought and aspiration, if they ever
existed. The same might be said of Carlyle, rejector
as he was of the creed of his fathers. " Religion can-
not be incarnated and settled once for all in forms of
creed and worship. It is a continual growth in every
living heart — a new light to every seeing eye. Past
theologies did their best to interpret the laws under
which man was living, and to help him regulate his life
thereby. But the laws of God are before us always,
whether promulgated in Sinai thunder or otherwise."
The progress of religious thought that has been made
in the last half century is indicated in the writings and
sermons of such men as Maurice, Campbell, Erskine,
Kinglsey, Stanley, Arnold, Robertson, Tulloch, Mauds-
ley and others in Great Britain, and in those of Emer-
son, Parker, Hedge and Mulford, in this country — a
progress from the bondage of the letter of the law into
the freedom of the spirit. When we think of what
these men have said and done, we may look forward
with some confidence as Goethe did to a time when "all
of us by degrees will learn to elevate ourselves out of a
Christianity of catechisms and creeds, into a Christianity
of pure sentiment and noble action."
JEPTHAH'S DAUGHTER AT HONOLULU.
BY MONCURE D. CONWAY.
The Princess Like Like, of the Sandwich Islands,
has just died in her youth. She had received an Amer-
ican education, had married an American, and had before
her a flowery path to the crown worn by her brother —
for she was the youngest sister of Kalakaua — when she
was done to death as a sacrifice to Pele. It is the old
" theology in the island " that eruptions of the volcano
Mauna Loa signify the wrath of Pele against mortals
generally, and that the dread goddess can only be ap-
peased by the sacrifice of a member of the royal family.
" They had not," says the correspondent of the New
York Herald (March 8), alluding to the Kahunas, "far
to search for one who would make the fearful sacrifice,
and while the rumbling of the volcano made awful
thunder the Princess Like Like announced to the people
that she, the sister of the king — the nearest to the throne
— would lay down her life to stop the fearful flow. She
openly proclaimed that she gloried to make a martyr
of herself for her country and her people; and though
in the prime of life, and with the prospect of a crown
THE OPEN COURT.
87
before her, she made her final preparations and lay down
to await the end. It is said that in this final proceed-
ing the Kahunas played no unimportant part, and that
while acting as her guardians and advisers they were, in
fact, practising their dark arts upon her and hurrying
her onward to the end. For days and days she lay
among these people, and during all that time not a par-
tial of food was allowed to pass her lips. She died of
starvation at last, lay in state twenty days, and was laid
in the royal mausoleum February 2S, 1SS7. The
strangest part to tell," adds the correspondent of the
most widely circulated paper in Christendom, "is this,
that upon the day of her death Mauna Loa, the Awful,
ceased to belch its lava forth, and for days after was in
comparative quiet, and then the hoary old soothsayers
went about among the people with many a nod and
mystic sign, as who should say, 'Didn't we foretell all
this? ' and to-day their power is greater in the land than
since the days when Captain Cook laid his bones upon
their sandy beach."
Many a tender-hearted woman, reading this tragical
narative, will ask, " Where were the missionaries? " I
can answer such from personal knowledge. American
protestant missionaries have for generations held com-
plete possession, morally, of the Hawaiian Islands.
They are chiefly of New England origin and have been
able to establish there the nearest thing to the old Puri-
tan government now surviving on earth. The sacred
sawisans are not fossilized in the Sandwich Islands; they
poison all that paradise of coral and flowers. A man
may be imprisoned at Honolulu for riding on the Sab-
bath. I was one of a company compelled to pass a
Sabbath there; it was a fearfully hot September day,
but no one was allowed to sell our ship a lump of ice,
nor could we buy a glass of soda-water. The whole
Sabbath atmosphere was that most congenial to human
sacrifice. It were, perhaps, not wonderful if the young
princess, like Electra of old, desired to get out of it all
and find a repose unvexed by any gods. From what I
learned of Christian theology in the Sandwich Islands
while there, four years ago, it has but given new lease
of life to the native theology. Both of these theologies
have a common source. They rolled out of the cruel
phenomena of nature. They
" Came
Like the volcano's tongue of flame;"
even like the fiery vomit of Mauna Loa. The " Moun-
tain Fiend," as the Herald calls Pele, is but a hag Je-
hovah. How often had the Princess Like Like, sitting
in church with her American husband (A. B. Cleghorn)
and her little daughter, heard her minister read about
the biblical Pele? "And Mount Sinai was altogether
on a smoke, because the Lord descended upon it in fire;
and the smoke thereof ascended as the smoke of a fur-
nace, and the whole mountain quaked greatly." " And
the sight of the glory of the Lord was like devouring
fire." " And he said unto them, thus saith the Lord
God of Israel, Put every man his sword by his side, and
go in and out from .gate to gate throughout the camp,
and slay every man his brother, and every man his com-
panion, and every man his neighbor. And there fell of
the people that day about 3,000 men. For Moses had said
consecrate yourselves to-day to the Lord, even every man
upon his son, and upon his brother; that he may bestow
upon you a blessing this day." How many young Like
Likes were sacrificed that day to appease the "Devour-
ing Fire," and to secure blessings for their survivors!
How many sermons had this sacrificed Hawaiian
princess heard representing God as a Consuming Fire,
whose wrath had been soothed, whose remorseless law
satisfied, only by the death of a member of the royal
family ?
The ancient Hebrews frankly preserved, what mod-
ern Hebrews try to explain away by casuistry, the story
of Jepthah's sacrifice of his daughter to Jehovah in ful-
fillment of a pledge to do so if Jehovah gave him a vic-
tory. Jepthah's faith is praised by Paul. It is the
opinion of Froude, and other eminent scholars, that the
Greeks got hold of a version of this same story, and that
"Iphigenia" is really "Jepthah-genia." Whether the
two stories are variants of the same or not does not mat-
ter, however, they are the same in theological origin.
But there is a striking difference between the use made
of this idea of human sacrifice by ancient Greeks and
modern Christians. The Christian plan of salvation
sets before us an offended God (or Law) satisfied by a
spotless and royal human victim who takes the place of
the human race and suffers the vengence which would
have fallen upon them. The doctrine based on this is
that we should praise and worship both the avenger and
his victim and regard the scheme as an expression of
divine wisdom and love. Now the Greeks set before
us an offended goddess, Artemis, who vents her fury on
the fleet of Agamemnon, king of men, because of some
offense to her divine privileges by one of his royal an-
cestors— offense small as eating a forbidden apple. It is
decided by the priests (Kahunas of the time) that the
fleet can only move and victory be won if Agamemnon's
daughter, Iphigenia be sacrificed. This is done. The
imputed sin is requited by vicarious suffering of the in-
nocent. Agamemnon moves on, prevails, and returns
home amid the wild delight of his people.
But just here the Greeks bring in another figure —
Clytemnestra. She — the mother — cares little for the
victory. She asks for her daughter who accompanied
the fleet — her beloved Iphigenia. She is told the story.
With her own hand she slays Agamemnon. That is
Greek theology. The king cowering before Artemis
in heaven learns that there is a Clytemnestra on earth.
Humanity also has its rights and its vengeances. Cly-
temnestra is the Greek criticism on the Jepthah story.
88
THE OPEN COURT.
The Hebrews did not report what Jepthah-genia's
mother thought of the proceeding of the Israelitish
captain. The Greeks supplied that omission.
Christianity refused the Greek hint. It accepted
the piimitive savage notion. Abraham's arm stayed,
when about to sacrifice his son, became the line of Jew-
ish theological evolution. But Christendom selected
for its basis the unarrested human sacrifice — unarrested
by any angel, unavenged by any Clytemnestra. With
Jepthah's faith it subdued Greece ami stopped the
mouths of poets. It established in Europe the volcanic
theology of Mauna Lao. It added millions of victims
to the 3,000 massacred before the Devouring Fire of
Sinai. The deified Devouring Fire and its deified vic-
tim were establish d also in America. For two hundred
years this virgin land was victim of a dogma more cruel
than its wildest aborigines ever devised. But at length,
in the Athens of America, Clytemnestra appeared.
Channing appeared, and Parker, and Emerson, and
Ballou. Through them spoke humanity, and by her
maternal hand this Agamemnon theology — this throned
cowardly sacrificer of men to gods — was laid low. Un-
fortunately, however, it was not slain. It tied from the
centres of American culture to take up its abode, and
rebuild its empire, among helpless and ignorant islanders,
in whose horrible devil-worship it finds natural habitat.
Despite the death of its latest victim, the Princess
Like Like, Mauna Loa is still belching out its brim-
stone. This same paper tells us that its red dust has
settled down in some Western city. The theological
dust of Mauna Loa may be recognized in that Congre-
gational Assembly in Chicago which declined to sym-
pathise with Mrs. Beecher because her dying husband
did not believe in eternal hell-fires. No question was
raised about anything so unimportant as Beecher's mor-
ality, or the Assembly's humanity. The Devouring
Fire was alone important. Everything must be sacri-
ficed to that. These men are a thousand years behind
ancient Greece. Their Madonna is Pele. Their the-
ology was all belched out of Mauna Loa.
MORAL UNITY.
BY WILLIAM J. POTTER.
One of the basal facts of the science of ethics is the
moral unity of the human race. This, of course, is not
to say that among all races and nations there is the
same measure of moral light, nor even that enlightened
mankind are always uniformly agreed in respect to the
application of moral principles. Much less is it to say
that all persons are alike zealous in seeking and doing
right actions. But what is meant by moral unity among
mankind is that, under conditions of normal develop-
ment, all classes and kinds of men not only have a sense
of moral obligation, but substantially agree among
themselves in regard to the fundamental principles of
the moral law; and, further, that, with increasing en-
lightenment and advancing civilization, there is a grow-
ing agreement among all races and classes of people
concerning the practical application of these funda-
mental ethical principles.
The moral unity of mankind, historically considered,
may be regarded as a comparatively recent discovery.
It was one of the common-places of the old theological
teaching, and not so very far back, that the moral law-
was given to man in connection with religious revela-
tion and came direct from heaven; that outside of the
Hebrew and Christian religions only a most meagre and
inadequate knowledge of moral obligation and moral
principles has ever existed; that, even if a few excep-
tionally intelligent men among heathen races appear to
have comprehended a tolerably lofty ethical code, the
masses of the people around them were incapable of under-
standing it and were almost void of moral sense. This
was one of the stock-arguments by which it was sought
to prove the necessity of a supernatural revelation in
order to save mankind from ruin by imparting to the
race the true moral code. The same argument was
also brought forward to prove the vast superiority of
the religion of the Bible to all forms of natural religion.
The point was apparently overlooked that both the Old
and the New Testaments furnish abundant evidence of
the fact that the masses of the people gave little heed to
the moral precepts announced therein by such excep-
tional teachers as Moses, Isaiah and Jesus.
But researches which have been made, especially in
the latter half of the present century, in the literature
and teachings of the heathen religions of Asia, have
disclosed in them a body of moral principles and pre-
cepts in entire unity with the best ethical teachings of
the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures, and in every
important particular as clear in perception and as lofty
in tone and tenor. In view of these discoveries, so sur-
prising to the theological mind of Christendom, it is not
too much to say that these natural religions have become
re: ealed to the modern world; and, in consequence, it
is not now a very rare thing to find Orthodox writers
admitting that all these religions before Christianity
had a measure of divine revelation and guidance. The
confirmed theological mind of the old type, however,
has not yet been able to adjust itself to this discovery.
Therefore it was that President Bartlett, of Dartmouth
College, in the recent debate in the Board of Missions
over the chances of salvation for unconverted heathen,
made the senile statement that, though he had taken
pains to look up the matter, he could not "obtain
account of more than a dozen or twenty instances" of
heathen before Christ who were possibly in a salv-
able condition. But the adjustment of old creeds to the
new Oriental scholarship is taking place. This is one
of the things which the New Orthodoxy means.
THE OPEN COURT.
89
And the important fact which has been determined
by this better information concerning the ethics of the
heathen religions of Asia is that the peculiar ethical
features which have been supposed to distinguish the
moral code of the New Testament can no longer be
regarded as unique. Of course it has been known for a
good while that Greece and Rome had good moral
codes. But it had become the fashion in theological
Christendom to explain these codes as the utterances of
a few specially bright intellects, upon which C hristian-
ity may have cast some of the morning rays of its ap-
proaching light. It was also alleged that the classic
moral code, though of heroic quality, was not of nearly
so high a type as the morality of the New Testament;
that it especially lacked the features of gentleness,
humility, self-sacrifice, forgiveness, forbearance, resig-
nation, that mark so conspicuously the moral precepts
of Jesus. But these discoveries with regard to the
Oriental religions — with regard to Buddhism, Brahman-
ism, and the religions of Zoroaster and Confucius —
prove that these very virtues, ordinarily regarded as
peculiarly Christian, are the common property of all
these Eastern religions. In truth, these are eminently
Oriental virtues; and ethical precepts of this tenor are
found embedded in the sacred books of all the ethnic
religions of Asia, mixed, as in the Hebrew and Chris-
tian Scriptures, with a good deal of inferior and extrane-
ous matter, yet, in the one case as in the other, consti-
tuting an essential part of the religion of which these
sacred books in each case are the accepted authoritative
utterance. " Return good for evil" said a Brahman
text 1200 years before Jesus taught the ethics of the
Sermon on the Mount. " Overcome anger by love, evil
by good," is a Buddhist precept of date before Christ.
" Be rigid to yourself, and gentle to others," and again,
" He is the great man who is strongest in the exer-
cise of patience — who patiently endures injury," taught
Confucius; and his fellow-countryman, Lao-tze — the
profounder religious teacher of the two — said, " Of all
noble qualities, the noblest is loving compassion."
If we regard the more robust moral principles, such
as honesty, justice, veracity, self-control, purity, we find
a similar unanimity of recognition. " Let a man keep
in subjection his speech, his arm, and his appetite," said
nanu, of the ancient Hindus. " Fear not poverty, but
fear missing the truth," again preached the wise Con-
fucius. " Whatsoever people may think of you, do that
which you believe to be right," taught Pythagoras, the
Greek. " Blessed are the pure in heart" stands among
the highest of Jesus' utterances. But, centuries earlier
Zoroaster taught the Persians " to keep pure in body
and mind;" that "immodest looks are sins"; that "to
think evil is a sin."
Examples like these, to prove the parity of ethical
teaching among the different races and religions of
mankind, mi'jjht be multiplied indefinitely. The his-
torical argument for the moral unity of man is simply
overwhelming. Humanity, always and everywhere,
and under various conditions of experience, when it has
risen to sufficient intelligence to perceive the relations of
human acts, has had essentially the same moral per-
ceptions, and recognized the authority and majesty of
the same moral law.
In matters of practice, the world, of course, has
always been very far from moral unity, and is still a long
distance from that goal. Different persons and the
ethical codes of different nations may give precisely the
same moral judgment of a certain action when consid-
ered apart from their own interests; but let self-interest
be involved or personal passion be concerned, and im-
mediately the moral perception is likely to be blurred
and the action will accordingly be differently adjudged.
The practical moral disagreements between individuals
and between nations arise from this disturbance of judg-
ment caused by the excess of some motive of self-inter-
est. When we look at the nations of Europe arming
themselves to the teeth against each other and ready to
send millions of men to battle-fields to defend against
each other their alleged rights, it does not seem possible
that they should confess the same moral code. And
yet they do. And so do the contending and struggling
classes that in any single nation are to-day at strife with
one another. They all say that they want only jus-
tice and equity. But what is justice, what are the
requirements of equity, in the special questions at issue,
the pressure of self-interest prevents them from seeing
together.
Yet in spite of the actual moral disturbance and the
fierce physical contentions in consequence, moral unity
is stdl the ideal aim of mankind. It is the central attri-
bute in humanity's vision of a perfected form of so-
ciety. That the individual members of society, differing
in respect to intellectual faculties, services, and power,
should see, feel, and live together in entire moral har-
mony,— this has been man's dream through the ages.
It has been the Utopia of social philosophers, the vision
of enthusiastic philanthropists, the faith of religions.
Nor is this hope of a practical moral unity for mankind
to be scoffed at as only an unsubstantial dream ; nor is
its realization to be put where religion has been too apt
to put it, among the mysteries of a future world. It is
the hope that gives largest motive, highest dignity, most
permanent influence, for human efforts in this present
world. It is worth all the struggle and pain of all the
past ages, that this creature called man has come, en-
dowed with the power of discerning the right and the
true and of putting them into deeds and institutions.
He thereby becomes the incarnation and servant of the
Eternal Power that makes for righteousness. By their
capacity to help toward this end of practical moral
9°
THE OPEN COURT.
unity, or righteousness, all men, measures, and institu-
tions must be finally judged.
The consummation is, indeed, far off! Individual
selfish greed is delaying it. Individual passions and
appetites, seeking their own to the sacrifice of the com-
mon good, are grievously hindering forces. Moral unity
needs first of all to be established in the individual char-
acter. Thence the harmony will extend to the family,
to the neighborhood, to the community, to the State.
Nevertheless, in spite of the appalling obstacles and
delays, social progress is made. Vices are yielding to
the efforts of philanthropy and to a firmer self-control.
Injustices are slowly, but surely, giving way to righteous
laws. Old oppressions are loosening their grasp, and
their victims are rising up men and free citizens. By
and by — some of the younger readers of this number of
The Open Court may live to see it — the warring
nations may agree to dismantle their forts, disband their
armies, and unite in a confederation of justice and
brotherhood. In view of moral and political reforms
which have been accomplished, this is no merely vision-
ary prediction. The moral unity will come if men and
women will work for it according to their best belief
and knowledge.
FLOWERS AND POETS.
BY ANNA OLCOTT COMMELIN.
Saintine, in his charming story of Picciou nas shown
us how the development and growth of a little plant,
with its buds and flowers, saved from weary languishing
the poor prisoner of Fenestrelle, restored his reason,
health and life, and in the end, brought to him friend-
ship, liberty and love. Without claiming that all flow-
ers, in all circumstances, can accomplish so much as this,
let us consider them in their relation to human life, and
the inspiration that they have given to poets. " Poeta
nascitur, nonjit" says the proverb, and in the mind of
every one possessed of the poetic fire is born the love of
beauty. Says Wordsworth :
"To me the meanest flower that blows can give
Thoughts that do often lie to deep for tears."
The "kindly fruits of the earth" minister to our
corporeal needs, besides giving pleasure to the eye, but
flowers are almost human in their association with the
dearest and holiest sacraments of life. They go with
the bride to the altar, and we lay them beside our sacred
dead when we dress them for their last, long sleep.
.Says Longfellow:
" Bear a lily in thy hand,
Gates of brass cannot withstand
One toueir of that magic wand."
" Sweets to the sweet," says Queen Gertrude, when
she scatters flowers over Ophelia's lifeless form. Says
Browning, "do not the dead wear flowers, when dressed
for God?"
From the first chill days of early spring, when the
delicate anemone rises from the wintry ground, until
the last frail little waif of a violet, in bleak December,
how magnificent and varied is this procession of beauty.
Says Oberoil :
" I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
Where ox-lip and the nodding violet grows,
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk roses and with eglantine."
Mrs Whitney expresses our feeling in the return of
the flowers we have loved in her lines :
" God does not send us strange flowers every year;
When the spring winds blow o'er the pleasant places,
The same dear things lift up the same fair faces, —
The violet is here."
When we read that the violet, — our violet, — was
known in the time of Homer, we think of the favorite
poem of Lincoln, and the lines:
" We see the same things that our fathers have seen."
In Cowper's translation from Homer we read :
"Everywhere appeared
Meadows of softest verdure purpled o'er
With violets; 't was a scene to fill
A god from heaven with wonder and delight."
Lady Wilkinson, in her book on flowers, gives
many interesting particulars concerning the violet. It
must have been greatly in favor with the Romans, she
tells us, as they called their days set apart for decking
graves, "Dies VlolarisP Pliny thought that violets
were of medicinal value, and advised that garlands of
them should be worn on the head. DiiFerent varieties
of this flower grow in many parts of America, Pales-
tine, China, Japan, Europe, and even on the Swiss
Alps, and the ruins of the Colosseum at Rome. Its
praises, we are told, have been written in many lan-
guages. Aboo Rumi, an Eastern poet, says, " it is not
a flower; it is an emerald, bearing a purple gem." The
Arabs, it ia said, compare the eye of a beautiful woman
to a violet. Homer speaks of Venus as crowned with
violets, and Theocritus thought that these flowers were
specially desirable for. wreaths. Aristophanes spoke of
Athens as " violet crowned," and Dioscorides makes
mention of the flower. In modern times this favorite,
with its meanings of truth, modesty and love, is spoken
of by Shelley, in these lines :
" Lilies for a bridal bed,
Roses for a matron's head,
Violets for a maiden dead."
Daisies are found so universally that a British poet
calls them " the constellated flowers that never set."
Chaucer says:
" Above all flouris in the mede
Than I love most those flouris white and rede,
Such that men callen daisies in our town."
In his legend of " Gude Women," he gives a poetical
version of the origin of the daisy. It is pleasant to know
that Linnaeus himself may have inherited a love of
flowers from his father, but when we read a botanical
definition of a daisy as a " scape, one-flowered, with
leaves spathulate, single-ribbed, obovate, crenate," w»
THE OPEN COURT.
9r
turn with satisfaction to Burns, in his address to the
«< wee, modest, crimson-tipped flower.'''
Wordsworth says :
" Mcthinks that there abides with thee
Some concord with humanity,
Given to no other flower I see
The forest through."
Sweet and tender and sad are the associations of the
daisy with the frail genius of the poet Keats, who knew
not of the immortality that time would bring him, when
he composed his own epitaph, and felt, only a few days
before his death, the "daisies growing over him."
Lucy Larcom, in our own day, writes gracefully of
" golden daisies:"
" Disk of bronze and ray of gold
Glimmering through the meadow grasses
Burn less proudlv! for behold
Down the fie'd mv princess passes.
Hardly should I hold you fair,
Golden, gay midsummer daisies,
But tor her, the maiden rare,
Who, amid your starry mazes.
Makes you splendid with her praises."
The " Flowers of the Fallow " is another lovely
poem by this writer:
" I like those plants that you call weeds,
Sedge, hardback, mullin, yarrow,
That knit their roots and sift their seeds
Where any grassy wheel-track leads
Through country by-ways narrow.
They fringe the rugged hillside farm
Grown old with cultivation,
With such wild wealth of rustic charms
As bloomed in Nature's matron arms
The first days of creation."
It is hard to refrain from quoting all the verses, but
we have cullings from many authors, in a field which
comprises all lands and all ages, and where the only
embarrassment is one of riches. To mention the name
•of Bryant is to bring up a host of tender and beautiful
associations of poetrv and nature's charms. One hardly
knows which to love best, the golden rod which sug-
gested the verse of his poem, or the verse which has
immortalized the golden rod. The lines are so familiar
to all that some less known but well worth knowing
will be more appropriate to introduce here, by Jennie
Maxwell Paine.
" Open the bars and make me room, —
Let me wade, waist-deep, in the yellow bloom,
Let me me revel at will, let me gather my fill,
Let me touch their plumes with reverent hands,
Let me tread where the wealth of blossom stands.
With the pomp of gold, in the glowing lands.
Fine as feather and soft as down
Is its petaled plume, — the verv crown
Of the fair and the fine and the rare design!
Fair as the ore. when wrought and rolled.
Fine as the fretting of filagree gold."
When we read of the thistle of Scotland, the fleur-
de-lis of France, with the daisy as the badge of the
beautiful province of Languedre, and the rose of En-
gland, we could wish that the possession of a national
floral emblem were ours, though the choice of one
" bright, consummate flower " would be attended with
difficulties. Here, in the length and breadth of our own
America, with its wealth of flowers, one can think of
none so national in character as we find in other coun-
tries. Is not the harebell immortal in its association with
the name of Ellen Douglas and Scotland?
The fragrance of flowers has the power to recall
recollections of the past, since the sense of smell is more
intimately connected with the power of memory than
with sight or hearing. Perhaps this may be another
, reason why flowers are so much beloved by poets. A
different sentiment, the expression of his Pantheistic
thought, is shown in Omar Khayyam's wonderful poem
of the Rubaivat :
" I sometimes think that never blows so red
The rose as where some buried Cajsar bled;
That every Hyacinth the garden wears
Dropt in her lap from some once lovely head.
And this reviving herb, whose tender green
Fledges the river lip on which we lean,
Ah. le.inupon it lightly! for who knows
From what once lovely lip it springs unseen!
Shakspeare expresses a similar idea:
" Lay her i' the earth,
And, from her fair and unpolluted flesh,
May violets spring."
And Herrick says:
" From her happy spark here let
Spring the purple violet."
And George Eliot:
"Is there not a soul — half nymph, half child— in these delecate petals which
glow and breathe about the centres of deep color? "
The rose, supposed to be a native of Syria, seems to
have been known in earliest history. Mention is made
in the Iliad of ointment of oil perfumed with roses, with
which Venus annointed the body of Hector, and Hector
is spoken of as using the same "ambrosial lymph" in
Cowper's translation. Roses were worn at the feasts of
the ancients, and at the banquets of Cleopatra. They
were much used to decorate tombs, and it is said that
the Romans provided for this observance in their wills.
Anacreon thought that the rose had power to protect
the dead. Didvmus, the Alexandrian, was persuaded
that the " rose was something more than human." Sap-
pho is said to have written verses to this flower, and
Dryden, in his translation from Virgil, speaking of
.Eneas at the tomb of his father, Anchises, says:
" With roses then the sepulchre lie strewed,
And thus his father* ghost bespoke aloud."
Plinv says that this flower was much cultivated bv
the Romans, and used as a perfume for annointing the
body. Gerarde thought that the rose was useful for
" strengtheninge of the heart, and refreshinge of the
spirits, and profitable for other griefes."
In our day, Aldrich alludes to roses in one exquis-
itely tender verse.
" We wove the roses round her brow- —
White buds, the summer's drifted snow —
Wrapt her from head to foot in (lowers. . . .
And thus went dainty Baby Bell
Out of this world of ours."'
The meanings that are attached lo flowers would
92
THE OPEN COURT.
form an interesting study. Many sentiments can be
expressed and replied to in their interchange. In Shaks-
peare's time this was thought of, since Ophelia said :
''There's rosemary, that's for remembrance: there's pansies, that's for
thought."
The English poet, Horace Smith, has written a
" Hvmn to the Fowers," one stanza of which we quote:
" Floral Apostles! that in dewy splendor,
Weep without woe, and blush without a crime,
Oh may I deeply learn and ne'er surrender «
Your lore sublime."
Wordsworth was a genuine lover of flowers, and
said, " and 'tis my faith that every flower enjoys the air
it breaths," giving to them consciousness of being.
When he says:
" My heart with rapture fills
And dances with the daffodils,"
one feels with him a throb of delight. Shelley shows
his affection for all flowers in his verses to the sensitive
plant in which occur these lines:
" Narcissi, the tairest among them all
Who gaze on their eves in the stream's recess,
Till they die of their own dear loveliness."
In our own day, Anna C. Brackett in her " Vaca-
tion " poem, discourses eloquently :
'■ When did we leave the Michigan woods?
I only know
That clusters of asters, purple and white,
And the golden rod, like a flash of light,
Had set all the roads aglow."
Holmes, in his beautiful sonnet, " nearing the snow
hue," speaks of the "slender flowerets, scentless, pale,
along the margin of unmelting snow." Emerson writes
to the rhodora, speaks tenderly of the wood-rose in
" Forbearance," and in his poetical, prose paragraph,
describes the edelweiss, flower of noble purity. With
Lowell, in his sweetest of love songs, " Auf Wieder-
sehen," we breath the very fragrance of the lilacs.
Truly,
" The poet, faithful and far-seeing,
See- alike in stars and flowers a part
Of the selfsame universal being
Which is throbbing in his brain and heart."
Not alone the poet, but all who possess the love of
beauty, and who feel glowing in them the enthusiasm
every flower that blows, gladdening the eye, delighting
the sense, must feel that it is well indeed to consider the
"flowers of the field," for truly" Solomon in all his
glory was not arrayed like one of these."
THE BLUE LAWS.
BY FREDERIC MAY HOLLAND.
This name seems to have been first used of the early
statutes of New Haven, some of which are spoken of
under this title in the General History of Connecticut,
by Rev. S. Peters, a tory refugee. The little hook,
which was first published in iSyijand has been recently
reprinted, is very readable, but by no means trustworthy.
Peters proposses to give extract from enactments which
were never allowed to be printed, and which " were
properly termed blue laws, i. e., bloody laws, for they
were all sanctified with excommunications, confiscation,
fines, banishment, whippings, cutting off the ears, burn-
ing the tongue and death. " " Similar laws still prevail
over New England as the common law of the country,"
adds Peters, who undertakes to " give a tolerable idea of
the spirit which pervades the whole, " bv stating forty-
five of the enactments of New Haven. This colony,
it should be noticed, was not united to Connecticut until
1665; and its first code was avowedly based on the Bible,,
so that the edition of 1650 is as full of references to
texts as any catechism.
From this code and other records, it is plain that
Peters was right more than half the time. Of his forty-
five blue laws twenty-four, at least, were substantially
in force. Among those that must have been peculiar to
New Haven are the following: "The judge shall de-
termine all controversies without a fury. " A debtor in
prison, swearing he has no estate, shall be let out and
sold to make satisfaction, " and " married persons must
live together or be imprisoned. " Then there are others,
common to New Haven and other colonies at first, but
gradually modified; like those which allowed only
church members to vote or hold office; which made con-
spirators, Quakers, adulterers, and men-stealers liable to
be hung, and liars to be whipped; and which provided
that " No gospel minister shall join people in marriage, "
that " The sabbath shall begin at sunset on Saturday, "
and that " No man shall court a maid in person or by
letter without first obtaining consent of her parents. "
This statute was often enforced in New Haven. On
May-day, 1660, a special court, whose record may be
found in the Blue Laws of Connecticut, bv Silas Andrus,
was held by Governor Newman to try Jacob M. Mur-
line and Sarah Tuttle. The girl had made some jokes
too much like those of Shakespeare's heroines, to
Jacob's sisters. Then he came in, snatched up her
gloves, and refused to give them back unless she would
kiss him. This she denied having done; but the sisters
testified that she had; and the Governor decided that she
was guilty. She dill not deny that Jocob had kissed
her, or that they had set side by side for nearly half an
hour, with their arms about each other, and his sisters
looking on. Her father charged Jacob with trying to
inveigle her into marriage; but she denied it so firmly
as to save him from punishment for this crime. Jacob,
on being asked " whether his arm was about her waist,
and her arm upon his shoulder or about his neck, " said
"he never thought of it since," "for which he was
blamed, and told he had not laid to heart as he ought."
The court further decided that "his carriage hath been
very corrupt and sinful, such as brings reproach upon
the family and place. " Sarah was scolded by the
Governor, until she " professed that she was sorry she
had carried it so sinfully;" and the criminals were fined
THE OPKN COURT.
93
twenty shillings each, at a time when the most skillful
workmen was forbidden by law to earn more than two
shillings a day. Peters does not mention this last
statute, nor that under which Jacob and Sarah were
fined, as I suppose, namely that re-enacted the same
month, to punish all persons who " meet, or company
together in any kind of vain manner or unreasonable
time, whether by day or night, to mispend and waste
the precious talent of these gospel seasons of grace, "
etc. This statute of May 30, 1660, also forbids "cor-
rupt songs and foolish jesting," " mixt dancings,"' "im-
moderate playing at any sort of sports or games, or mere
idle living out of an honest calling industriously, or ex-
travagant expenses, by drinking, apparel etc, " as is
mentioned in Iloadlv's New Haven Colonial Records,
pp. 336-7. After New Haven became a part of Con-
necticut, a fine of twenty shillings was imposed on any
one who should play at cards or back-gammon, or suffer
it to be played in his house; and enough of this hatred of
amusement remained in 1S49, to cause all dramatic per-
formances, exhibition of trained animals, etc., where
there was a charge for admission, to be prohibited under
a fine of $50. One of fifty cents was incurred in 180S
by absence from church, or failure of the parent or
guardian to inflict punishment, in the presence of some
officer, on anj child under fourteen who broke the
Sabbath.
Some of the worst laws which Xew Haven took
from the Bible are not mentioned by Peters, namely
those to inflict death for worshipping " any other God
but the Lord God;" " witchcraft," "willful or obstinate
denying the true God, or his creation or government of
the world, " or uttering " any other blasphemy of the
like nature;" manslaughter committed "suddenly in
anger or cruelty of passion;" attempt at murder; or
profaning the Sabbath "proudly, presumptuously and
writh a high hand. " This last statute was pecuhar to
New Haven; and so was that by which maiming others
might be punished," " eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand
for hand, foot for foot." Witches were hung there as
well as at Hartford ; " a stubborn and rebellious son "
of sixteen, might be put to death in either colony; and
Voltaire, Holbach and Diderot might have been hung in
Connecticut, where blasphemy was a capital crime until
1784, when the penalty was reduced to forty stripes on
the bare body, and one hour in the pillory. In 1673 it was
decreed, that adulterers should no longer be hung, but
have the letter A branded on their foreheads with a hot
iron. New Haven burglars were to be branded on the
right hand with P>. Each of these infant colonies had
a fine of five shillings for every absence from church;
and whoever interrupted the preacher in Connecti'ut, or
charged him falsely with error, had for the second
offence to " either pay five pounds to the public treasury,
or stand two hours openly upon a block or stool four
foot high, upon a lecture day, with a paper fixed in his
breast written with capital letters, Ax Open and Ob-
stinate Contemner of God's Holy Ordinances,
that others may fear and be ashamed of breaking out
into the like wickedness." It was ordered at Hartford,
in 1676, that all heads of families who obstinately neg-
lected " reading of the scripture, catechising of children,
and daily prayer, with giving of thanks," should be
" fined, or punished, or bound to good behavior, accord-
ing to the demerits of the case. " Both New Haven
and Connecticut forbade any man to live alone, or any
family to take a lodger without leave from the magis-
trates. A license from the legislature, as well as a cer-
tificate from the doctor, had to be procured before
tobacco could be used by any one under twenty, or by
any one else who had not formed the habit. This w as
voted at Hartford in 1647, when it was also ordered:
" That no man within this colony, after the publication
hereof, shall take any tobacco publicly in the street-, nor
shall any take it in the fields or woods, unless when they
be on their travel or journey at least ten miles, or at the
ordinary time of repast commonly called dinner, or if it
be not then taken, yet not above once in the day at most,
and then not in company with any other. Nor shall
any inhabiting in any of the towns within this jurisdic-
tion take any tobacco in any house in the same town,
where he liveth, with and in the company with any
more than one who useth and drinketh the same weed. "
This ordinance, like that of 1659 against "disordered
meetings of persons in private houses to tipple loge-
ther," and that of 1673, by which young persons and
servants were not to meet together in the streets or
fields or in any house " after the shutting in of the
evening," without consent of their parents or masters,
shows the same ascetic principle as the punishment of
Sarah Tuttle. When I consider farther that ships were
forbidden in 1673, to set sail out of any harbor in Con-
necticut on Sunday, I am inclined to think that Hinman,
who was Secretary of Connecticut for seven years, mav
have had some authority for inserting in his Blue Laws
of New Haven Colony, in a list which is otherwise un-
doubtedly correct, the following enactment, apparently
taken by him from the original records: " If any man
shall kiss his wife, or wife kiss her husband, on the
Lord's day, the party in fault shall be punished at the
discretion of the court of magistrates," p. 130.
Neither this, nor any other of the laws mentioned
in the last paragraph, is given by Peters. So it must be
said, that his picture is not on the whole any bluer than
the reality, though he does put much of his paint in
wrong places. For instance, he says that criminals
could be tortured at New Haven, which se ms to have
been done only at Xew Amsterdam while under the
Dutch. What he says about hanging Catholic priests is
more nearly true of the New York law of 1699 than of
94
THE OPEN COURT.
that of Connecticut. He was undoubtedly in error,
though I think innocently, when he charged New-
Haven with forcing every voter to swear, "that Jesus
is the only king," and ordaining that: "No one shall
run on the Sabbath-day, or walk in the garden, or else-
where, except reverently to and from meeting ; " " No
one shall travel, cook victuals, make beds, sweep house,
cut hair, or shave on the Sabbath-day;" " No woman
shall kiss her child on the Sabbath or fasting-day;"
" No one shall read Common-Prayer, keep Christmas
or Saints'-days, make minced pies, dance, play cards, or
play on any instrument of music, except the drum,
trumpet, and Jesus-harp;" "Every male shall have his
hair cut round according to a cap."
This last law, however, is still enforced by public
opinion in all civilized lands. Even the most conserva-
tive and aristocratic gentlemen have become Round-
heads. Snme of the other precepts just quoted were
observed in Connecticut families when Peters lived
there; and the Legislature of Massachusetts is now de-
liberating whether it will do to let barbers cut hair or
shave on Sunday, or make it legal for milk to be de-
livered, for prescriptions to be put up, for horse-cars to
run, for dispatches to be sent by telegraph or telephone,
for newspapers to be sold or printed, etc. Among other
questions now being agitated in Boston is the propriety
of abolishing the statutes against Sunday travel and
Saturday evening amusements. The general blueness
of our Sunday laws is seldom realized; but a full and
accurate account of the various statutes in the different
states and territories will be found in the Outlook and
Sabbath Quarterly for last January, which may be pro-
cured from Alfred Center, N. Y., for twenty-five cents
per copy. That author has been able to collect later
information in some cases than I gave last fall in The
Index. Indiscriminate prohibition of Sunday amuse-
ments seems to be established in Connecticut, Maine,
Massachusetts, Michigan, Minnesota, New Hampshire,
New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Caro-
lina, Vermont and Wisconsin, besides restrictions of
various harmless pastimes in every other state, except
California, Colorado, Florida, Georgia, Louisiana, Vir-
ginia and Western Virginia. Special laws against
theatres have recently been passed in Nevada, New
York and Maryland, and the permission to deliver ice
was repealed in this last state in i SS6.
The worst of our .Sunday laws is not to be found in
the statutes of any state or territory. It is the decree,
every where sacred, of Mrs. Grundy, forbidding any
one to amuse himself in public on Sunday. Driving,
for instance is permitted, because no one can be sure
that it is wholly for amusement. Lawn-tennis, which is
much less noisy and throws no needless labor upon
animals, is utterly out of the question in good society;
as are dancing, archery, private theatricals and picnics.
Cards can be played secretly, but card parties are under
the ban, which falls with peculiar severity upon all
amusements which may be enjoyed by the poor. There
is no need to say much against other Sunday laws, until
this unwritten one is reformed thoroughly. When the
duty of taking healthy amusement on every day in the
week, and encouraging the poor and overworked to get
the recreation they need peculiarly, whenever they can,
hecomes fully recognized by public opinion, there will
be little difficulty in getting rid of the last of the blue
laws.
LaSalle, March 24, 1SS7.
B. F. Underwood, Esq., Chicago, 111.:
Dear Sir — I find that in my note in last number
introducing two articles from the LaSalle Republican,
I have, through inattention, written " I believe their
■wishes to be both sincere from their standpoint,"
instead of " I believe these criticisms to be both sincere
from their standpoint." Yours truly,
Edward C. Hegeler.
AMENDMENTS AND ANSWER TO CRITICISMS OF
HIS ESSAY ON THE BASIS OF ETHICS.
BY EDWARD V. HEGELER.
Proceeding to answer the criticisms to my essay on
the Basis of Ethics, I feel that I should properly com-
mence with criticising the same myself. I find that in
presenting a number of examples of the use of the
word good, for the sake of ascertaining its general
meaning, I have omitted the most important use of the
word under the head "What do we call good for man?"
viz.: The ethical teachings we Stave received in our
youth, principally as part of our religious instruction.
While these teachings as far as they were of a Super-
natural character, gradually weakened in us on our
becoming acquainted with modern science, the truth
of nearly all the ethics remained unshaken.
Their basis was unclear for a time until now we can
say, the rules of ethics are those ideas evolved in the
past, that in the struggle for existence have evolved
from the savage the civilized man of to-day.
Supplemented by further evolved ethical ideas thev
are the foundation for the preservation and further evolu-
tion of civilized man.
I should also have mentioned another class of uses
of the word good, where only a pleasant sensation is
meant; we say, "the sugar tastes good," "the rose
smells good," " this musical chord sounds good." While
we may assume that the effect of these excitations of
the nervous system in some way favors its growth, we
do not think of this in so using the word good.
Looking over the comments made, I notice espec-
ially the remark that I had not done justice to Mr.
Spencer. I should mention that it was in part a thought
of this, why 1 asked Mr. Bradley, who is known to be
THE OPEN COURT.
95
versed in Spencer's views, to state his position. Mr.
Bradley's statements have since been supplemented in
the comments by others.
I deem it my duty to express here in reference to
Mr. Salter's remark, "for myself I would say that in
searching for the truth, I would rather be baffled a thou-
sand times and have the discomfort and sense of frus-
tration accompanying such experiences, if the thousand
and first time I found the truth, than to forego the
search at the outset, because I knew there would be
more pain than pleasure attending it," that I hold that
Mr. Spencer considers this searching for truth as a high
pleasure in itself; and that in his theory he considers
the amount of attainment, physical, intellectual and
moral, as great happiness to the individual and the race.
How strong Mr. Spencer thinks in this way is shown
in a statement in the introduction to his Data of Ethics,
which appears to me as a powerful demonstration that
a grand and lofty idea is in persons of ethical tendencies
or high aspirations, their real self and their better ego,
for the continuance of which they often freely spend
their wealth, devote their labor, and even sacrifice their
lives. Let me quote it here :
" I have been led thus to deviate from the order
originally set down, (for the publication of the Synthetic
Philosophy,) by the fear that persistence in conforming
to it might result in leaving the final work of the series
unexecuted. Hints repeated of late years with increas-
ing frequency and distinctness, have shown me that
health may permanently fail, even if life does not end,
before I reach the last part of the task I have marked
out for myself. This last part of the task it is to which
I regard all preceding parts as subsidiary. * * * from
that time onwards my ultimate purpose lying behind all
proximate purposes, has been that of finding for the
principles of right and wrong in conduct at large, a
scientific basis. To leave this purpose unfulfilled after
making so extensive preparations for fulfilling it, would
be a failure the probability of which I do not like to
contemplate."
In my essay I have presented the view in opposition
to Mr. Spencer's, that not happiness /;/// evolution itself
(expressing it in a word) is the Basis of Ethics. By a
closer examination of Herbert Spencer's studies on
the meaning of the words good and bad in his Data
oj' Ethics, I find I must contest the truth of his conclu-
sion that good and bad are equivalent to "well or ill
adapted or adjusted to ends," which must mean tnore or
less adapted or adjusted to ends. Mr. Spencer says,
" the good knife will cut." This can be considered only
as an abbreviated sentence, for any knife cuts or is
adapted to cutting. A good knife is one with which
the person using it can, by the same labor, achieve more
cutting than with an average knife.
An umbrella is called bad if it protects the bearer
from rain less than the average umbrella.
" We call a day bad in which storms prevent us from
satisfying our desires." Also here, in using the word
bad, we compare the weather to ordinary weather. It
is bad also by being destructive to our intended occupa-
tion. The energy or capacity for it we had, and it is
considered to be wasted.
A good jump is one which achieves the immediate
purpose of said jump, while judging from the results
of many similar jumps that it could not be achieved.
There is more achieved than ordinarily.
A stroke at billiards is called good when the move-
ments are more skillfully adjusted to the requirements
than they ordinarily are, the stroke being successful or
not. A person looking at the play not acquainted with
the billiard game is unable to express an opinion whether
the stroke was good or bad.
These doings of man are not considered as good or
bad, according to their success or failure ( the billiard
stroke may fail and nevertheless be good > but in com-
parison of their results to those of the average doings of
the same class.
"A mother is called good who ministering to all the
physical needs of her children, also adjusts her behavior
in ways conducive to their mental health." It is assumed
here that the mother expends a certain quantity of her
energy in ministering to all the physical needs of her
children; the expenditure of this quantity of her energy
in her conduct affects the mental health of her children
at the same time, and in this respect stands in the condi-
tion of a natural adjustment, as that may happen to be.
By her behavior being more adjusted, the mother's same
energy results in greater mental health to her children,
a result being in the direction of higher evolution.
(TO UK CONTINUED. I
SUNDAY WORSHIP.
BY CHARLES K. WHIPPLE.
One of the most vivid shocks given by the late The-
odore Parker to the theological sensibilities of New
England was his statement that, in Old Testament
Scripture the Jehovah of the Hebrews was represented
as fond of « roast veal." The fact of so great a shock
from so slight a cause is curious, but not inexplicable.
It is curious, since the people thus spasmodically affected
had all their lives been reading in their "sacred volume"
that, on numerous specified occasions, a bullock, a calf,
a ram, a lamb, or a kid, was to be killed and roasted by
the priest " for a sweet savor unto the Lord," and that
the priest must also put twelve loaves of hot bread in
the holy place before the Lord every Sabbath. It is no
more strange that such preferences should have been
ascribed to the Supreme Being by the early Hebrews
than by the early Greeks and Romans. But our Chris-
tianity has its roots so firmly fixed in that ancient
Hebraism that, although we may use the utmost freedom
96
THE OREN COURT.
in speaking of Greek and Roman superstitions, any
present mention of the cruder peculiarities of the Old
Testament faith must he made in that original phrase-
ology which has hccome sanctified by tradition and
custom, if the speaker would avoid the imputation of
sacrilege and blasphemy. In fact, Mr. Parker's plain-
speaking in modern language frightened the majority
of his generation so much that they really thought him
an infidel and a scoffer, instead of the devout religious
reformer that he really was.
At the present day, one of the great reformatory
agencies is the Sunday newspaper. The Sunday press,
with some faults as obvious as the opposite faults of the
self-styled "religious paper," which it is fast supplant-
ing, is conferring immense benefit on the community in
two ways: first, by counteracting that theological blind-
ness which, pretending that one day of the week must
be recognized as more holy, necessarily allows that the
other six days may lie esteemed less holy; and next, In-
supplying reading matter more instructive and bene-
ficial, that is to say, containing more truth and less
error, than the average church sermon.
These, as I have said, are very great benefits con-
ferred on the community by the Sundav paper. Seek-
ing to be re k1 by all, it provides something to suit the
taste of every class in city and country, the serious and
the frivolous, the scientist and the sportsman, the student,
the merchant and the politician. ( )f course, while con-
taining something attractive to each class, it contains
much which each class will pass by with indifference.
Of course, also, its proportion of sermon-like articles,
while sometimes controverting the lessons of the pulpit,
will sometimes echo them. In fact, the occasion of my
writing at this time is an echo, in the Boston Sunday
Herald of February 27, of what seems to me one of the
erroneous doctrines of the pulpit.
In an editorial article there, entitled "Sundav Morn-
ing Worship," it is contended that our Protestant
churches err in laying too little stress upon worship
(meaning simultaneous confession, supplication and
adoration) and too much upon pulpit instruction. The
w liter complains that these churches give us a very
stinted worship of the Divine Being; that all the pray-
ing and most of the praise are done by proxy; ami that
thus the hearty and helpful worship of God is ignored.
There is sound worldly wisdom in this statement of
the Sunday Herald, since a large number of our clergy
and churches have for a year past been moving in that
direction, and trying, by attractive additions in the
department of worship, to retain the audiences which
are slipping away from them, ami to draw in outsiders.
Sound worldly wisdom: for, while thus adhering to the
general idea of the Sunday paper by presenting in its
columns something attractive to every class, saints as
well as sinner-, the editor offers terms of compromise
to the saints, removes one of their objections, and
attracts to his support a proportion of those who have
hitherto been hostile. Nevertheless, as both the Herald
and the churches seem to me to be wrong in this mat-
ter, I will suggest some reasons for taking the opposite
ground, namely — that the chief use, and a most impor-
tant use, of our excellent custom of holding public
assemblies on Sunday is the giving and receiving of
instruction, particularly in the departments of morals
and religion; in other words, that the sermon, if it is
zvhat it should be, is the most important part of the
Sunday service, and well worth the trouble of regular
attendance and the expense of making suitable provision
for it.
The //"in the preceding sentence is a very important
word, since its meaning would exclude the great major-
it}' of the sermons now preached, and that on both
negative and positive grounds; the number of their
erroneous and unfounded assumptions, and their posi-
tive false teaching respecting both sin and duty. What,
then, should a sermon be?
It seems to me that any subject relating to human
welfare may properly be treated in the pulpit; yet, since
one day in the week is not too much to be devoted to
the important departments of morals ami religion, I
think the chief function of the sermon should be to
inculcate righteousness or right fixing and to oppose
vice and error; especially to insist on the duties custom-
arily denied or neglected, and to give warning and
admonition respecting the evil practices which are
countenanced by fashion or custom. If these things
are faithfully done by a competent person, the time
given to his instructions and the money paid for his
support will be well expended.
But should there be no public worship? Should
those observances cease altogether which now form the
chief occupation of the Sunday mornings of Roman
Catholics and Episcopalians, and which Dissenting con-
gregations seem of late disposed to adopt in greater
number and variety ? Is there not a strong presump-
tion in favor of a custom so long established, and main-
tained by people so numerous and so estimable?
I reply, the presumption here supposed would be
strong, were there not both authority and reason
against it.
First, authority. The clergy of all these seas,
Roman, Episcopal and Dissenting, claim to be disciples
and ambassadors of fesus, whom they call Christ.
What did Jesus say about public worship?
The four biographical sketches which give us all
we know about him contain neither injunction nor
recommendation for Public Worship, nor for Sabbath
meetings, nor for Sunday meetings, nor for prayer
meetings, nor for any sabbatical observance whatever.
1 f fesus sometimes went up to the Temple on the Jewish
THE OPEN COURT.
97
Sabbath, it was not to join in the observances there,
but to teach a better method, righteousness instead of
sacrifices, rites and ceremonies.
What our clergy inculcate as public worship con-
sists of prayer and praise. Of the former, Jesus said to
his disciples, " When thou prayest, enter into thy closet."
Reason echoes this injunction, since the desire, the con-
fession, the aspiration which a man wishes to express to
the Heavenly Father can best be done in person and in
private; and this seems most likely to be that "worship
in spirit and in truth" which Jesus enjoined.
As to praise, the other constituent of Public Worship,
the multiform variations of applause offered to the Deity
weekly in our Sunday assemblies — the sentiment of
Jesus respecting it as well as respecting Prayer may be
found in his warning against the use of '-vain repeti-
tions." And here again reason echoes his injunction.
It is the worse sort of rulers and potentates, the poorer
specimens of men, who are pleased with public rehearsal
of their dignities and merits. It is not an elevated
idea of the Supreme Being to suppose that he resembles
such persons; that he really desires intelligent human
beings to occupy themselves periodically in proclaiming
him to be holy, just and good, or in kneeling or pros-
trating themselves before him as before a Turkish or
an Abyssinian ruler! There is no reason to believe that
God desires men publicly and periodically to "praise"
him. Judging bv the teaching of Jesus, what God
wants of his human children is obedience, the doing of
what they understand to be duty in their daily lives.
And the true function of the pulpit is to explain and
enforce this duty; to teach the people what they do not
know in morals and religion, and to remind them of
those things which, though known, are apt to be for-
gotten, neglected or evaded. To do this work effectively
is to perform one of the most important services to a
civilized community ; and if the minister who does this
has also skill to teach true reverence and conscientious-
ness to children, to supply to them, in the departments
of morals and religion, that which is lacking in family
and school education, he is one of the greatest of public
benefactors.
THE ART OF MAKING POVERTY.
BY M. M. TRUMBULL.
Part [I.
The effort of " organized labor " is to lower the
wages of the many, and raise the wages of the few; to
make an aristocracy of trades, and hold a monopoly of
the knowledge that earns bread; to divide the working
men into a high-wages caste and a low-wages caste,
into skilled and unskilled laborers. Exclusion and pro-
scription are employed to increase the numbers of the
lower caste, and reduce the numbers of the higher. Des-
potic statutes guard the guilds from intrusion, and crowd
the ranks of the unskilled who must work for a dollar
a day. " It seems hard," say the '• knights," " to for-
bid an honest boy to learn a trade, but we must protect
ourselves, and in order to do that we must crowd him
down to swell the dollar a day majority. It would be
dangerous to let him learn a trade." This proscription
is barbarous. The Guilds, and the Unions, and the
Knighthoods, have no more right to keep a bov ignorant
of handicraft than of arithmetic. They have no more
right to cripple his usefulness by excluding him from
the art and practice of bricklaying or printing, than
they have to break his arm. His power of competition
may be destroyed by either process, and one way is no
more cruel than the other. To make unskilled labor
skillful is the true policy, so that the product of labor
may be greater, and its reward higher in money. By
this plan we abolish poverty, by the other we create it.
The strategy and tactics employed by the aristoc-
racy of labor against its poorer brethren, by the high-
wage caste against the low-wage caste, may be seen in
the following examples taken promiscuously from the
papers :
"Birmingham, Conn., Jan. 4. — There is an exten-
sive strike on the verge of culmination among the
cutlerj' grinders of New England. They are mostly
Englishmen, and control that part of the cutlery busi-
ness, admitting only their sons or near relatives to learn
the business."
"Pittsburg, July 6. — The 4th annual meeting of
the National Window Glass Workers' Association began
here to day. * * * * Another feature of the
agreement for next year will be the introduction of a
new clause relative to the apprentice system. Employ-
ers claim that at least a few apprentices should be
allowed to each factory."
"At the Pittsburg Convention July 7, 1S86, a west-
ern delegate proposed to allow a limited number of
apprentices to be indentured in the trade, the chief
merit of the plan being that only relatives be allozced to
become apprentices. The subject was put over until the
results of the missions of Me-srs. Wallace, Campbell
and Winters could be ascertained."
Here we have a scheme not only to make an aris-
tocracy of trades, but also to make that aristocracy
hereditary, like the nobility of England. The vexa-
tious leak in the plan was the drain to this country of
glass-blowers from Europe. To stop that leak Messrs.
Wallace, Campbell and Winters were sent to England
and Germany. Their mission was to induce the glass-
workers there to put glass-blowing among the occult
sciences, and allow no apprentices to learn it.
"Phila., July 14. -The 400 rug weavers, who have
been on strike at the rug and carpet manufactory of
John Bromley & Sons, returned to work yesterday
under protest. The cause of the strike was the refusal
of the firm to lay off a learner.'1''
Pitiful and mean as that action of the carpet-weavers
was, it found imitation in the conduct of a still more
98
THE OPKN COURT.
inferior aristocracy, the nobility of carpet-layers. Here
is an extract from a Chicago newspaper:
" A meeting of carpet-layers was held yesterday
to form a Carpet-layers Union. There are from 75 to
80 skilled carpet-layers in the city, and the object of
the proposed union is to keep up the price of skilled
labor, and keep unskilled men out of t lie business^
It seems difficult to form an order of nobility out of
people whose only claim to it is that they sew hams up
in bags, and yet it can be done. Here is an item from
a newspaper dated June 28, 1SS6:
"Last night the Ham-sewers of Chicago entered the
Knights of Labor. The industry can only be followed
seven months in the year, and the average earnings are
$3.00 per day. About one year's apprenticeship is
required before one becomes an expert in bagging hams
neatly. As the industry is a growing one, measures
are being taken to keep novices out"
Where the statutes and decrees of this new chivalry
are not sufficient of themselves to crowd willing indus-
trious men out of work, and into poverty, the citv and
State governments are appealed to for assistance. An
antiquated law, a relic of English class privilege, pro-
tects the lawyer trade against the competition of natural
genius, by requiring all aspirants to that profession to
spend so many years in a lawyer's office, or to obtain a
diploma from some law school, or at least to pass an
examination. If the State may arm the lawyer with
this absurd proscription to protect him from the rivalry
of brighter men, why should not the same weapon be
given to the carpenter and the blacksmith, to the news-
boy, the car driver and the architect? Last winter the
car drivers of Xew York asked the Board of Aldermen
to proscribe a certain class of intruders into their pro-
fession. As the car drivers cast a <jocxl many votes
their demand was complied with, and "an ordinance
was passed requiring every driver of a car to obtain a
license, and requiring that every one receiving a license
shall be 21 years of age, a resident of the state one year,
and of the city four months."
Some time ago the newsboys of Chicago demanded
a similar proscription for their benefit, but as they had
no votes their claim was not allowed. They also
demanded that all newsboys pay a tax of $^ a year.
The effect of this would be to "freeze out'1 all the boys
who were not able to pay the $5 and make tine rest an
aristocracy like the lawyers. The boys who considered
themselves able to pay the tax, marched in long pro-
cession to the offices of the newspapers which opposed
the scheme, and poured upon them derision and con-
tempt in tire howling classics peculiar to newsboys.
They actually demanded that they themselves be taxed,
because the effect of the tax would be to drive their
poorer comrades away from the opportunity to earn a few
coppers by selling newspapers on the street. Here was
instinctive selfishness imitating the poverty-making
tactics of the various "brotherhoods" of labor, and the
consolidated "brotherhoods" of capital. Is the ragged
nobility of those ignorant boys any more ignominious
than the broadcloth nobility of the high-caste brahmins
of the other professions and trades? At the architects
convention held in St. Louis November 17, 1875, it was
recommended " that all State legislatures be petitioned
to pass laws providing that examining boards be
appointed by the governors, the issuing of diplomas to
architects, and the fixing of penalties for practising
without complying with the requirements of the law."
The constant pressure of a thousand agencies like these
against the weaker members of society must crowd
thousands out of employment and out of the world.
Improvidence, and the many personal vices that
make poverty, belong to another branch of economics,
and are not considered here. Only the public vices
born of the social war are here exposed, and ver\ few
of them. They will suggest others, and show the pov-
erty-making character of this bitter struggle against
each other, against plenty, against the skill that makes
abundance, against equal opportunities, against freedom
for all our energies. All this poverty-making is within
the reach of public remedies, and in the application of
those remedies lies the solution of* the labor problem,
the restoration of peace.
•• Scientific and pseudo-Scientific Realism " is the sub-
ject of an article from the pen of Professor Huxlev, in
the current number of The Xincteenth Century. In
answer to the assumption of Cannon Liddon, that sci-
ence denies the possibility of miracles, on the ground
that they are violations of natural law, he replies that
true science makes no such denial, as it does not claim
to have apprehended the whole region of natural law.
A law of nature, in the scientific sense, is the product ot
an operation of the mind upon the data of nature that
come within the limit of its observation. It would
therefore be irrational to say that a catastrophe of any
kind was miraculous, simply because we could not per-
ceive the cause. Science looks upon apparently inex-
plicable phenomena as having natural causes, not as \ et
apprehended, and withholds assent to miracles solely on
the ground that there is an insufficiency of evidence.
Up out of the thick of intellectual gloom that
shrouded it in the beginning, the aspiring soul of man
has risen. What strivings, antagonisms, what heights
gained at the expense of millions of lives have the
years witnessed. What a distance from the beast to
man. Perhaps some human heart, dwelling amid the
awful strife, was touched with the light of future day,
and gained a momentary glimpse of the beyond. Per-
haps that soul knew that one day love should be the
law, that when the light of truth should have broken
through error and illumined its depths, the disenthralled
souls of men would rise responsive to its beauty.
THE OPEN COURT.
99
The Open Court.
A Fortnightly Journal.
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Buildingi, corner Monroe Street, by
THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY
B. K. UNDERWOOD,
Editor and Man \r, ek.
SARA A. UNDERWOOD,
Associate Edituk.
The leading object of The Open Court is to continue
the work of Tin- Index, that is, to establish religion on the
basis of Science and in connection therewith it will present the
Monistic philosophy. The founder of this journal believes this
will furnish to others what it has to him, a religion which
embraces all that is true and good in the religion that was taught
in childhood to them and him.
Editorially, Monism and Agnosticism, so variously defined,
will be treated not as antagonistic systems, but as positive and
negative aspects of the one and only rational scientific philosophy,
which, the editors hold, includes elements of truth common to
all religions, without implying either the validity of theological
assumption, or any limitations of possible knowledge, except such
as the conditions of human thought impose.
The Open Court, while advocating morals and rational
religious thought on the firm basis of Science, will aim to substi-
tute for unquestioning credulity intelligent inquiry, for blind faith
rational religious views, for unreasoning bigotry a liberal spirit,
for sectarianism a broad and generous humanitarlanism. With
this end in view, this journal will submit all opinion to the crucial
test of reason, encouraging the independent discussion by able
thinkers of the great moral, religious, social and philosophical
problems which are engaging the attention of thoughtful minds
and upon the solution of which depend largely the highest inter-
ests of mankind.
While Contributors are expected to express freely their era n
views, the Editors are responsible only for editorial matter.
Terms of subscription three dollars per year in advance,
postpaid to any part of the United States, and three dollars and
fifty cents to foreign countries comprised in the postal union.
All communications intended for and all business letters
relating to The Open Court should be addressed to B. F.
Underwood, P. O. Drawer F, Chicago, Illinois, to whom should
be made payable checks, postal orders and express orders.
THURSDAY, MARCH 31, 1SS7.
RIGHT THINKING
Deeds are followed by consequences which can he
ohserved at once and by everybody. The results of be-
lief are less direct and cannot always be traced to their
source. A man's acts appeal to the senses, while his be-
liefs with which his conduct may be glaringly inconsist-
ent, manifest themselves in ways so numerous, subtle and
imperceptible, and frequently blossom forth and ripen in
the fruit of action at periods and places so remote from
those at which they were expressed, that the connection
between the beliefs and their legitimate effects generally
escapes ordinary observation. Hence the popular no-
tion that theoretical beliefs are of but little if any signifi-
cance as factors in human progress, and that a man's in-
fluence should be judged chiefly by his character as man-
ifested in his conduct. But a belief adopted by one
whose conduct is scarcely affected by it because deter-
mined by inherited tendencies, early impressions, or social
environments, may through his influence, be adopted by
those into whose lives, long alter he is dead, it shall
become incorporated as an active force in the formation
of character and the determination of conduct.
A thought, a theory, a discovery or an invention,
whatever l>r the moral character of the individual who
hist announces it, may profoundly influence the conduct
and modify the conditions of millions t* rough uncounted
generations. A political or social tluory originating in
the mind of one who is not only regardless of the con-
ventional standards, hut even the just and reasonable re-
quirements of morality, may prove a great benefaction
to the race. Equally true it is that a false theory advo-
cated by a sincere and enthusiastic philanthropist, and
recommended by his own purity of life and nobility of
character, may in time poison a community, producing
possibly a moral cancer which only the surgery of revo-
lution and war can cut out of the social system, still
leaving perhaps the taint of disease to be combated and
overcome in the on-going years. Error incorporated
into individual or social character makes harmonious de-
velopment impossible; and the more deeply it is im-
planted and the more numerous and firmly established
are the false adjustments to which the character is forced
in accommodation to the disease, the greater the suffer-
ing to be endured before the permanent conditions of
healthy growth can be reached.
Clear thinking, then, is quite as important as correct
living; and the man wdio helps to make others think
aright thereby helps to advance not only intellectual hut
moral progress, and to augment the sum of human hap-
piness. He, on the contrary, however unexceptionable
his conduct and pure his motives, who helps to befog,
mystify and confuse the minds of men by sophistry and
error, is as much the enemy of moral as of intellectual
advancement. Slovenliness in thought is certain in time
to result in slovenliness in morals. Thought cannot he
divorced from conduct, even though the thought, true or
erroneous, of one generation shows itself the most con-
spicuously in the conduct of succeeding generations. A
teacher of error may be sincere, but his sincerity in no
way severs the connection between cause and effect, and
therefore in no way diminishes the results of the error.
Indeed, intellectual error is harmful in proportion to the
sincerity of its adherents, upon which its growth de-
pends.
The poison lurking in many theories is the more
effectually hidden, like the serpent in a bed of roses, by
the drapery of language and a false sentimentality
which, while they charm, often conceal the implica-
tions and absurdities of a belief; hut time, the unimpas-
sioned ally of truth, strips such theories of all that de-
ceived and deluded men, and shows their real results in
the moral rottenness as well as the intellectual deformity
to which they lead.
It is evident that he who, in laying stress on conduct
IOO
THE OPEN COURT.
attaches but little if any importance to theory or belief,
and computes men's influence wholly or mainly from
the acts by which they project themselves out upon the
field of active labor, ignoring; or assigning to a second-
ary place the influence of thinkers and teachers, takes a
view of life that is narrow and narrowing in its ten-
dency. The importance of right conduct and the value
of direct moral teaching, both by precept and example,
and of moral agencies and influence of every kind are
adm tted by all. There is not so general an apprecia-
tion of the work of those who stimulate thought, in-
crease knowledge, and in science and philosophy, as
well as in poetry and song, help to educate the race in
the principles of truth anil virtue.
In a late number of the Fortnightly Review Pro-
fessor Huxley has a reply to W. S. Lilly, who in a few
pages attempts to show the utter infeasibilitv of finding
any satisfactory scientific basis for morals, and distinctly
hints that the only safety for the race lies within
the bosom of the Roman Catholic Church. In Pick-
fessor Huxley's article entitled " Science and Morals: A
Reply," an exactly oppisite view is taken. Science is
attempting the work that the Church has neglected, i. c,
to find an indestructable basis for the rules of right con-
duct. It neither denies nor asserts the existence of a
God, but insists upon morality as independent of either
of these considerations, and so far from tending to bestial-
ize man, is rather striving to give him a rational concep-
tion of the law of his existence. Morality is indestruc-
tible, and if the clothing of creeds which it has so long
worn has been found to hide its true character, there is
no reason to set up the hue and cry of danger when these
obstructions are laid aside. Science hears the grumbling
of the Church; she hears the accusation of "Material-
ism," but keeps faithfully at her work of drudgery.
.She sees order where there is seeming disorder. The
evolutionary process is clear before her eyes, and she
knows that the safety of morality lies in abandoning the
unfounded assumptions of theology and holding to a
belief in the order of Nature, which follows immorality
wit! i social chaos as surely as it follows physical tres-
pass,-, with physical disease.
* * #
In "Science In Religious Education," published in
the January and February numbers of the Popular
Science Monthly, Daniel G. Thompson pleads for
tlie abandonment of religious teaching (other than
scientific) in universities and schools generally. The
wide differences in religious belief that are so evident
will sooner or later make this demand imperative. The
present system of education in our universities is one
calculated to instill into young minds religious prejudices
that cannot fail to be detrimental to their highest inter-
ests, scientific criticism of theological dogmas being out-
lawed. A religious organization has a perfect right to
establish an institution where its belief or creed may be
taught. Those who go there will be drawn because of
their sympathy with such creed or teaching. But public
schools and state universities are no longer public or for
the people when a religion is there insisted upon that
lacks the sanction of the general mind. In justice to all,
the principal religious beliefs should he studied in our
universities in the light of science, all the evidence for
and against them being presented, that conclusions may
be drawn by individual minds unhampered by any theo-
logical assumptions. Truth alone should be the basis of
teaching, and what is not truth or unverifiable state-
ments, should not be asserted where veracity is regarded.
As of old the West still looks to the Past for re-
ligious light, and accordingly " B. D.," of Chicago, thus
inquires of the Boston Investiga'or : "Do you consider
Monism and Agnosticism to mean the same as our Open
Couitr says:" To this the editor replies: "No; one
presumptuously affirms there is a God, the other mod-
estly asserts that it does not know. If this statement is
correct there is no agreement between them, though it
may be that we don't exactly understand what Monism
is." Another question asked is: "Can you tell me what
a Free Religionist is— whether Christian or Infidel — as I
am having a controversy on the subject?" Our vener-
able contemporary of the East answers ;is follows: "A
Free Religionist is probably an Infidel under a Chris-
tian name, because an Infidel is one who rejects the Di-
vine authenticity of the Bible, and as a Free Religionist
docs I hat, he is an Infidel really, though nominally a
Christian. lie is not indorsed as a believer by church
people, but he is 'on his winding way' towards the ac-
knowledgment of more independence, — when the popu-
lar and fashionable hour shall arrive." These defini-
tions are given here because The Open Court has no
" funny column " in which they can be copied.
There is great dissatisfaction among the National Lib-
erals, and not a little among many of the Conservatives
over Bismarck's concessions to the Vatican, which are
looked upon as a reaction likely to strengthen the Papal
power not only in Germany but elsewhere. Says the
Voss/ic/ic- Zeitung : " Not only is the Roman church
the undisputed victor in the contest, hut Germany's lead-
ing statesman has even appealed to the papacy for help
to overcome the opposition, which, after all, is composed
of men who, though his political enemies, are his own
countrymen." The government papers bestow liberal
praise on Bismarck's action as effective statesmanship,
but the concessions seem generally to be regarded as of
the purely opportunist character, and to afford small
grounds for belief that the peace compact with the
church will lonsr be maintained.
THE OPEN COURT.
IOI
A number of American and German naturalists,
including Haeckel, are now striving to show what good
service the daring Frenchman, Lamarck, did, in expound-
ing an important law of nature which has not been
.adequately recognized, even by evolutionists. One of
these neo-Lamarckians, Prof. Hyatt, recently read a
paper on "Effort in Evolution," before a club where
Darwin's views had never been brought without excit-
ing eager opposition. The lecturer, while plainly
rejecting the fancy of special supernatural creation, and
cordially acknowledging the correctness of the principle
■of natural selection, said that Darwin had simply built
on Lamarck's foundation; and that no admiration of the
superstructure should prevent our keeping in mind the
value of the great truth on which it is based. Many
facts show that the structure of animals is largely due
to their attempts at conformity with changed conditions
of environment. Among the minute inhabitants of
ponds of fresh water are some which are found in a
greatly different form in brackish pools; while a third
species occurs where the water is intensely salt. The
breaking down of a dam at salt-works has been found
to bring about a transformation of species in one direc-
tion; as repairing the dam did in the other. The
naturalist who observed this has since tried the experi-
ment in his own aquarium, where the same animals
were actually made members, first of one species,
then of another species, and then of a third, and finally
carried back into their original form, simply by increas-
ing or diminishing the amount of salt. Then again,
one of the lobster's claws has sharp teeth and the other
blunt ones, and there is always a corresponding differ-
ence in size; but Prof. Hyatt found on examination of
five hundred lobsters that the right claw was the large
one with one-half of them, and the left claw with the
other, showing that not only the size of the claw but
the shape of the teeth is due to the peculiar habits of
the individual possessor. One lobster uses his right claw
its another does his left claw, and both claws and teeth
take form accordingly. That the dog's wild relations
hunt in packs, while the cats hunt singly, seems due to
a greater amount of natural sociability in one family
to in the other. Elephants, too, though not needing to
as-ociate for mutual advantage, do so for mutual pleasure.
M inkeys so far overleap the law of '•survival of the
fittest," (as interpreted by some persons) as to pick out
thorns from disabled comrades, and otherwise preserve
the wounded and enfeebled. Thus, there is constant
eff>rt, not only to meet changes in environment, but to
carry out peculiarities ot habit and temper, rhis power
of individual effort has had much more to do in shaping
the original structure of each species than natural selec-
tion, which seldom comes into play for any species
until it has had time to make its members numerous
enough to crowd one another. And, as men have made
themselves what they are by their effort to work out
their ruling traits of character, so we may hope, that as
these traits improve from generation to generation, the
whole structure of society will he reformed accordingly.
Such, at least, we understand to be substantially the
views of Prof. Hyatt, and many share them with him.
Emerson is known to have studied Lamarck with great
interest, and to have followed this theory of evolution
in the lines :
*' Am! striving to be in. in the worm,
Mounts through :ill the spires of form."
# * *
The bequest of the late Lord Gilford to the four uni-
versities of Scotland fur the support of free independent
lectures on National Theology by prominent thinkers
11 of," to quote from the will, "any denomination what-
ever, or of no denomination at all," "of any religion or
way of thinking, or, as is sometimes said, they may be of
no religion, or they may he so-called skeptics or agnostics
or free-thinkers." provided only that they be "reverent
men, true thinkers, sincere lovers of and earnest in-
quirers after the truth," is of interest to all lovers of the
Science of Comparative Religions and to all friends of
independent thought. The Scots/nan says: "This will
be the first step in a great revolution. Theological tests
will linger yet for a time amongst us. Put Lord Gif-
ford has driven the first nail into their coffin. To all
men they will soon appear as grinning anatomies, and
before very long there will he a general cry to have
them buried out of sight."
* * *-
In an article entitled ■• Artisan Atheism," in the Feb-
ruary number of the Nineteenth Century, William Ros-
siter discusses the alienation of the English laboring
classe- from the Church. The teaching of an anti-
quated theology that has no answer for the great
social questions of the day, and that in some particulars
is in direct opposition to the known truth, this, taken
along with the fact of a comfortable and satisfied clergy
that has no sympathy with him and his low condition,
is what is drawing the English artisan farther and
farther away from the fold of the dominant faith.
The Congregationlist has never had the least sym-
pathy with Henry Ward Beecher's liberal theological
views, but of the man and his work it now generously
observer :
Probably no one face of this generation has been more univers-
ally recognized than hi- ; and no one voice has ever thrilled a
larger multitude with its humor, its pathos, and its trumpet calls
to action. A* preacher, lecturer, editor, author, he filled a large
space in the popular thought. As a theologian, he had an influ-
ence larger than he really earned ; and no one man probably has
done more than he to bring the chinches to a condition of depar-
ture from the old standards, which, in some respects, with multi-
tudes of others, we have so deeply deplored.
I<>2
THE OPEN COURT.
A htte writer has urged the union of the Catholic
and Protestant Churches, on the ground that they would
thus be able to cope more successfully with their com-
mon enemy, science. It is not to be wondered at that a
feeling' of insecurity should lead them to take some
measures for the preservation of that which they hold
in common, but a union of religious bodies whose tenets
are, in some respects, antagonistic, would be a paradox
unparalleled in history. It is inexplicable except upon
the hypothesis of friendship springing up between im-
placable enemies, when a third power greater than
either is gradually forcing them to the wall. In this
case, all sincerity is forgotten in the common motive of
self-preservation. This is what this writer asks for.
Rev. Canon Fremantle, an English Churchman,
writes on " Theology Under its Changed Conditions,"
in The Fortnightly Reviciv for March. The purifica-
tion of theology has left but very little of the original
structure. The doctrine of " The Fall of Man" has
been given up, as a result of the teaching of the phi-
losophy of evolution. The superiority of Christianity
is admitted to have come in a great measure from the
people who professed it. Finally the inscrutableness
of Deity is admitted, and with it, as a matter of course,
all teaching claimed as inspired will stand or fall, as it
agrees with or antagonizes the facts of life.
A conception of the universe is formed by philoso-
phy, out of the data furnished by observation
and experience. This conception the religious senti-
ment proceeds to color and idealise, and while seek-
ing in it the svinbol of the infinite we also project into
it a human element, which returns to us an echo of our
questionings and yearnings. An apparent conflict arises
between free thought and the religious sentiment, as
soon as any conception of the cosmos fails to agree with
the demands of science. The hostility in this case is
between two scientific conceptions, the elder of which,
having become outworn by the advance of knowledge,
is still retained by religion. Its elimination is but a
question of time. Experience teaches that after a
greater or less period of searching for a new basis, the
religious sentiment always trees itself from the old
forms, and formulates a conception of the universe
more in keeping with the developments of science and
the needs of the existing social order.
* * #
A correspondent in Mexico City, writing of the
many feast days observed by the native Mexicans,
says: "There was a national celebration on the 16th
of September. I think it was to celebrate the date
when Mexico first became a Republic, Hidalzo was
the hero of that day and his picture flourished in all
the windows of stores and private houses. There
was a great military procession, with cars represent-
ing the different industries of Mexico; the military
school, also one representing the Aztec temples, and
accompanied by men in Indian costume. In the
morning the President and government officials in
citizen's dress walked down from the Plaza to the
Alameda through the principal streets. The day-
after the Feast of All Saints (which of course was a
church celebration) was the day of the dead. I don't
know whether it was to remind people of their mor-
tality or not, but in a way they seemed to take a
cheerful view of it. There were booths for the sale
of toys and confectionery all round the Plaza, and
the toys were little hearses, and dolls in mourning
dresses, and dancing-skeletons; and the confection-
en' shops had sugar skulls and thigh bones conspicu-
ously displayed for sale. The effect was, on the
whole, not as ghastly as might have been expected.'"
* * #
From an article on " How Should Labor Organize?"
in the editorial columns of the Catho/ic Rez>ieu\ in
which often appears sound and wise advice to working-
men, we quote with approval the following extract:
It is one of the absurdities of American human nature to-
fancy that every conceivable social benefit is conferred by a poli-
tician, a legislature, and a law, when in fact the very best influ-
ences for good and against evil in the State are those which
stand outside the political garden. The religious organizations
of this country are an example. Without having anything
special to do with politics, yet a declaration from them is a thing
to be respected and feared. The pernicious influence of the
monied corporations is well known. The influence of honorable
men, whose names stand with thousands as synonyms of virtue
and truth, is very powerful in this nation. Do not these facts
point the way for the feet of labor advocates and leaders? In-
stead of walking the long, thorny, uncertain road of politics,,
would it not be belter to organize outside with a view to influence
the present political parties, to influence the public opinion of the
country and create a sentiment in favor of just treatment?
Says John Morley in an article on " Byron:"
The greatest poets reflect, beside all else, the broad-bosomed
haven of a perfect and positive faith in which mankind has for
some space found shelter, unsuspicious of the new and distant
wayfarings that are ever in store. To this band of sacred bards
few are called, while perhaps not more than four high names-
would till the list of the chosen; Dante, the poet of Catholicisms
Shakespeare, of Feudalism ; Milton, of Protestantism; Goethe
of that new faith which is as yet without any universally recog-
nized label, hut whose heaven is an ever closer harmony between-
the consciousness of man and all the natural forces of the uni-
verse; whose liturgy is culture, and whose deity is a certain high
composure of the human heart.
The mind of the scholar, if you would have it large
and liberal, should come in contact with other minds..
It is better that his armor should be somewhat bruised by
rude encounters even, than hang forever rusting on the
wall. — Loiigfellozv.
THE OPEN COURT.
103
DR. EDMUND MONTGOMERY.*
Dr. Edmund Montgomery \v:is born in Edinburgh,
in 1835. His parents were Scotch. His father was a
prominent lawyer. When but four years old he was
taken to Paris where he remained till he was nine. The
remainder of his youth was passed at Frankfort, Ger-
many. Of the circumstances of his early life we know
but little beyond the fact that his attention was directed
early to natural science and philosophy. When he liyed in
Frankfort, in 1S50, he was deeply interested in Schopen-
hauer, whom he saw pass daily with his poodle, and
whom he regarded as a philosopher when most people
who saw the great pessimist regarded him as a mad
man. At the age of fourteen he had been ostracized
for refusing to be confirmed, after haying passed through
the usual religious instruction. The matter became a
public scandal. Clergymen \ ied with one another to
convert him. From being the most popular boy he
found himself soon isolated, and the circumstance
saddened him profoundly for many years. Some years
later he became acquainted with Feuerbach and attended
.at Heidelberg the lecture*- of Moleschott and of Kuno
Fischer and discussed matters with them. He had fre-
quent intercourse with prominent philosophers who had
been pupils of Scheliing, Fichte and Hegel, especially
with Hofrath Kapp. At Bonn he attended Helm-
holtz's lectures on the Physiology of the .Senses, and
began to formulate psychophysical problems, — problems
that now go under the name of ''physiological psychol-
ogy.1' He studied at German universities from 18^2 to
1 858— -Heidelberg, Berlin, Bonn, Wurzburg (where he
became M. D. | Prague and Vienna. He had gone
through Comte's suggestive and original, even though
tedious works, in French before he went to England,
where he studied Mill and Bain and other representa-
tives of the association philosophy. He had studied
Darwin and arrived at his main philosophical conclusions
before he read anything of Herbert Spencer's.
All philosophical systems appeared to him merely
reflex-thoughts from the conception of organic life prev-
alent at the time being, and he was deeply impressed with
the need of a Philosophy of Organization. But first of
all, Kant, the most powerful introspective philosopher,
had to be encountered. In his student davs he had gone
through the Critique of Pure Reason at least five times,
and the whole thing was alive before his eyes. The
result was a book whose title may be translated thus:
Kanfs Theory of Knowledge Refuted from the Em-
pirical Sta>idpoiut. In the original German it is, Die
Kantische Erkenntnisslehre widerlegt vom Stand-
punkte tier Empiric, Munich, 187 1.
It is, as the sub-title says, "a preliminary contribution
towards the establishment of a physiological conception
of nature." In the preface the author advises conserva-
tive and reactionary thinkers to take a lesson from
China and keep all the avenues of learning open to
students. He urges the study of nature and of' things
themselves, instead of trying to reach truth by accept-
ing as true whatever can be tortured consistently out of
established ideas, according to the formal logic in Ger-
man philosophy before Kant. One section of the work
contains a summary of the Critique which Dr. Sterling
one of the best authorities in English, in his reply to
Dr. Montgomery published in the Fortnightly Review
for October, 1872, p. 413, admits to be accurate and
praiseworthy. Dr. Montgomery's reply to the assump-
tion on which the Critique is built, viz., that our ideas
of Time and Space are given us from within as a priori
conditions of experience, without whose direction
knowledge would be impossible. Sterling calls the germ
of our author's thought.
Dr. Montgomery says: -'There needs only the
refutation of this one fundamental position, and the
whole laborious fabric sinks helplessly together."
"Time and Space, as infinities, are only abstractions,
and are never given us a priori. Under every true
perception of space and time lies a portion of that
empirical raw material of knowledge, consisting in
feelings called into consciousness by muscular action."
Kant was not enough of a physiologist to see how
closely our mental activity, which enables us to know-
Time and Space, is connected with our muscular activity,
that enables us to become conscious of motion against and
among external objects; and to verify those generaliza-
tions, from observation and experience, which we become
entitled by such empirical verification to accept as the
fundamental axioms of mathematics. Transcendental-
ism has made mathematics her stronghold; and Kant
admitted her claim; but Dr. Montgomery maintains
that mathematical knowledge really comes, like all other
knowledge, from without. His arguments are unusually
clear, as are those adduced to show that the necessity,
which compels us to combine a variety of impressions
of color, resistance, temperature, etc., into a perception
of some external object does not lie in the structure of
our minds, as Kant thought, but in- that of the object
itself. Xo wonder that Haeckel writes to Dr. Mont-
gomery that his excellent book is now often quoted in
controversy .f
*This account h:is been prepared partly from publications of Dr. Mont-
gomery, and partly from data supplied by unpublished letters written by Dr.
Montgomery to B. F. I'nderwood from iSS^ to 1SS7.
f Dr. Montgomery's views of Kant mav also be found in these
essays: "The Dependence of Quality on Specific Energies,"
(Mind, No. XVII, 1SS0). "The Substantiality of Life " (Mind, No
XXIII, July, 1SS1). "Causation and its Organic Condition-"
{Mind, Xo.''s XXVI, XVII and XXVII, 1SS2). "The Object
of Knowledge" (Mind, No. XXXV, 18S4). " Space and Touch"
{Mind, No.'s XXXVIII, XXXIX and XL, 1SS5). "Tran-
scendentalism and Evolution " (The Index, March 26 and April
2, 18S5). "Scientific Theism" (The hidcx, March 11 and iS,
1SS6). " Plato and Vital Organization," read before the Concord
School of Philosophy, July 26, 18S6, {The Index, August
104
THE OPEN COURT.
Before publishing this book he had begun a series of
scientific experiments which we cannot here describe at
length or pass final judgment on. He has for years
been striving to overthrow the cell-theory, still gener-
ally held by men of science, one of the most eminent
of whom has described himself as "a cell-aggregate
brought into harmonious action by a co-ordinative ma-
chinery.''
"What can all philosophical speculation avail," says
Dr. Montgomery, " without an understanding of vitality
and organization? If molecules or cells really build up
complex organisms, then there is no escape from the
assumption of a supernatural spirit, governing vital
formation and activity. I, for one, could find no peace
"till this question was positively settled one way or the
other.1' From 1S60 to 1863 he had a laboratory at St.
Thomas's Hospital, where he examined all the material
afforded by the institution, which is one of the largest
in London. Employing new methods, he soon found
out that the secret of life is not contained in a set of
mysterious properties shut up in so-called cells. To
render this evident, not only through observation of
natural cell-forms, but also through experimental
demonstration, he prepared a substance with which he
succeeded in artificially imitating almost every cell form.
He had just been elected Lecturer on Physiology by the
faculty, when the effects of a dissecting wound put an
end to his London career, and for many years also, to
his sci ntific work. Lung trouble obliged him to pass
the winter in the south, and eye trouble prevented him
from working with the microscope. Not before the end
of [866 was he able to present the results of his pre-
vious work to the Royal Society. Lionel Beale, a pie-
tist and theological partisan, happened then to be the
12 and 19, 1SS6), ami "The Previous Question Under-
lying 'Scientific Theism' versus Naturalism" (The Index,
October 14, 1S86). In the essay on "Space and Touch,"
he remarks that his book "vaguely ascribed to muscular sensa-
tions what I now know to be accomplished bv directly t'elt posi-
tions not dependent on sensations of movement." The essays on
" Causation," " The Obiect of Knowledge" and " Substantiality,"
object particularly to Kant's failure to acknowledge the full influ-
ence over thought of the external world. The same objection is
urged in Tin Index, for April j, 1SS5, March 18, iSN6and Aug-
ust 1 2, 18N6.
What Dr. Montgomery says of Kantism in The hidt \ is little
more, however, than a prelude to his attacks on much more
popular systems of transcendental philosophy, which he compares
with his own view thus : " The question is, what underlies the
wide-spread displav and endless train of conscious occurrences
that, for each of us, make up the world we know ? And what is
the real meaning of it all ? Genuine transcendentalism answers:
The absence of our being consists in a spiritual organization or
subject, autonomously weaving steady experience out of the ever-
changing conscious phenomena ; and it all means the more or
less adquate understanding of that which eternally and unalter-
ably subsists in a universal consciousness. Genuine naturalism
answers : The true subject and bearer of the conscious display
is that abiding something of ours which we perceive as our living
organization, and its conscious affections signify to us the recog-
nition of our own relations to the entire economy of sense-com-
pelling influences which we call the world."
" We have ambiguously to decide for one or the other of these
extreme views. Consistent thinking can discover no compro-
mise. Our being is either wholly natural or wholly spiritual." "In
Royal Society's authority on such subjects. He opposed
Dr. Montgomery's chemical views and succeeded in pre-
venting their publication in the transactions. Richard
Owen wrote at the time a spontaneous and apprecia-
tive letter, saying that if he had been there this would
not have happened. Next year he published the paper
at his own expense. It forms a handsomely printed
volume of sixty pages: On the Formation of So-
Called Cells in Animal Bodies ; by Edmund Mont-
gomery, M.D.; London, John Churchill & Sons, New-
Burlington street, 1 S67. Its accounts of the natural
and artificial production of cells are so clear and satis-
factory that Owen cites it as an "important contribution
to the philosophy of physiology" (Anatomy of Verte-
brates, volume 3, page 564). According to Dr. Mont-
gomery, we cannot admit that "the units of which
organisms are composed owe their origin to some mys-
terious act of that mysterious entity, life, by which in
addition to their material properties, they become en-
dowed with those peculiar metaphysical powers consti-
tuting vitality." On the other hand "the organic units,
like those of inorganic bodies — the crystals — form, by
dint <>f similar inherent qualities," and assume "neces-
sary modes of appearance as soon as certain chemical
compounds are placed under certain physical conditions."'
"If the former view be true, then we must clearly
understand that there exists naturally a break in the
sequence of evolution, a chasm between the organic
and inorganic world never to be bridged over. If, or»
the contrary, the latter view be correct then it strongly
argues for a continuity of development, a gradual
chemical elaboration which ultimately results in those-
high compounds, which, under surrounding influences,
manifest those complex changes called vital."
no way can our veritable being be both together ; a spiritual sub-
ject, constituting experience by dint of its own power, and also-
an organic subject, experiencing its naturally constituted func-
tions. Experience is either exclusively organic or exclusively
hyper-organic," (Mind, 1S84, p. 1).
In another published essay, he savs: "The two great cosmo-
logical conceptions which are now struggling against each other
for supremacy, involve inevitably as ultimate result the decision:
Whether life be indeed a deplorable aberration from the original
fullness of thought-steeped being; or whether it be rather a desir-
able unfolding of more and more intense and ample world con-
sciousness." "Either the human body in its progressive organi-
zation has to be cherished ;.s the only true temple and revealing
oracle in the universe, or complete extrication from every bodily
impediment must become the chief aim of human exertion.'"
" Consistent rationalistic transcendentalism is of necessity hostile
to the fulfilments of nature, to the aims of vital being. Its ethics
do not consistently yield rules of action, hut rules of restraint from
action, leading like all supernatural codes to unmitigated acenti-
cism." "The object of its striving must ever be diametrically
opposed to that of natural evolution. Evolution points to a life-
affirming, life-exalting faith. Transcendentalism involves total
life-negation." " Shall we then, for any visionary hankering
after individual bliss forsake the wide-spread vital misssion in-
grained in every fibre of our mystic frame? Shall we, as called
upon bv trancendentalism for the dream of an incommensurable
self beatitude or spiritual quiescence, desert the creative task
allotted to us by whatever is underlying nature and its unaccount-
able growth, the task here among our fellow-beings under joy
and anguish to work out the higher life of that all-compromising
organization of which we are veritable personations ?"
THE OPEN COURT.
io5
At the time Dr. Montgomery published this little
hook he hail a laboratory at the Zoological Gardens
during the summer months, where he met and conversed
often with Darwin, and deferentially entered into the
thought of the great naturalist who was just then
working out his hypothesis of Pangenesis on the basis
of the cell theory, and who was naturally not open to
Dr. Montgomery's special views. There were plenty
of other problems to talk about and on these, views
were freely exchanged.
In various quarters, Dr. Montgomery's conclusions
adopted, and extravagant theories of life were erected
on the strength of them. They influenced Dr. Bastian's
Beginwi>igs of Life. Dr. Montgomery, however, never
believed either in a molecular theory of vitality or in
spontaneous generation of any of the forms of life now
known.
After leaving the hospital he practiced for six years
at Madeira, Mentone and Rome; but in 1S69 he retired
with a moderate competence, to devote himself to
science and philosophy, which had been his purpose
from the beginning. He had meanwhile become more
convinced than ever that the philosophical problems
which had so intensely perplexed him could be solved
onlv through an understanding of vitality and organiza-
tion. Life! what is life? He could find no peace till this
question was positively settled one way or the other.
Accordingly he came in. 1 87 1 , after publishing his
protest against Kant's authority, to Tex is, where he
has resided ever since on his estate, Liendo plantation,
Hempstead. He says that: " The first seven years here
in the South were devoted to laborious biological re-
searches. No writing at all." His principal objects of
observation have been minute animals of the simplest
structure, barely distinguishable from plants, mere
shapeless lumps, without visible head, li rib, eve, or
mouth, and variously known as monera, protozoa and
amoeba?, the last name denoting their capacity of chang-
ing form indefinitely, by alternate expansion and con-
traction in one or more directions.
This capacity of motion or motility, has been made
a special study by Dr. Montgomery and with very
important results. "Spontaneous motility," he says,
"constitutes the most salient and characteristic feature of
animal vitality. Its scientific explanation had thus
become the clref desideratum of physiology. When
amoeboid forms of life were first carefully noticed, the
attention of investigators was naturally arrested by the
strange display of their ama'boid movements. But,
importing at once from muscular physiology the con-
ception that vital motility is due to a specific property,
called contractility, scientific curiosity was pacified by
simply giving the name of contractile substance to the
moving proplasm. The occult property, 'contractility'
was here also allowed to pass as an explanation of vital
motility," (Webster's Dictionary, for instance, defines
"motility" as "the faculty of moving contractility.")
"Thus matters stood when I began my protoplasmic
studies." "Where masters have failed, surely I, their
obscure disciple, would never venture to come forward
with a view of my own. But it so happened that by
some fortunate accident nature allowed herself, as I
believe, to be caught in my presence without her usual
impenetrable guise. I could not help seeing what others
have so long sought for in vain. By some strange fas-
cination, I was drawn into giving careful attention to
the peculiar amoeboid movements displayed by homoge-
neous protoplasm. Day and day (sometimes for eigh-
teen consecutive hours), and month after month for
five years (from 1S72 to 1S77) I kept close watch on
those slow and monotonous movements. Prom near
and far a vast array of specimens were gathered show-
ing every imaginable variation of this one central
activity, the pushing forward and retracting of projec-
tions." "I followed the sluggish current of hyaline "
(or transparent) "material, issuing from globules of
most primitive living substance. Persistently it forced
its way." "Gradually, however, its energies became
exhausted, 'till, at last, it stopped an immovable projec-
tion, stagnated to death-like rigidity. Thus, fur hours
perhaps, it remained stationary, one of many such rays
of the many kinds of protoplasmic stars. By degrees,
then, or sometimes quite suddenly, help would come to
it from foreign but congruous sources. It could be seen
to combine with outside complemented material drifted
to it at random. Slowly it would thereby regain its
vital mobility, shrinking at first. But gradually, com-
pletely restored and reincorporated into the onward tide
of life, it was ready to take part again in the progressive
Mow of a new ray. On the other hand, I watched also
the brisk current of more highly elaborated but still
homogeneous protoplasm," etc. " So I continued watch-
ing and pondering till it all seemed clear to me, till these
primitive displays of vital activity had disclosed— to the
satisfaction of my own mind — the constitution and inter-
dependence of the elementary properties of life."
The results concerning motility are stated as follows:
" I first showed that the pushing forth of protoplasmic
projections and not the subsequent contraction of the
same, constitutes the fundamental act of vitality; that
contraction is dependent on previous spontaneous and
active expansion." Thus the existence of vital spon-
taneity or self-initiated movement, which had been
denied by biologists and declared impossible by physicists
in general, was proved by actual observation. " A certain
organic substance expands under chemical composition
and afterward contracts under chemical decomposition.
Its disintegration is incited by the dynamical influences
of the medium. Its integration is brought about by its
own inherent chemical affinity." Thus, "the display of
io6
THE OPEN COURT.
living motion on the part of the protoplasm, which has
hitherto been contemplated under the aspect of an occult
vital property called 'contractility,' has been proved to
consist in an alternate expansion and contraction of
organic substance, accompanying its functional integra-
tion and disintegration." " The power exhibited during
motility is in reality the chemical power of specific
affinity interwoven into the living substance, and induc-
ing during its saturation expansion of the same."
He also demonstrates how all essential organic divisions
of the animal form, — its oral and aboral pole, its bilateral
shape, its sensory surface, its integument, its contractile
layer, its food-receptacle, its depurative organ, — how- all
these organic divisions necessarily result from the spe-
cific and unitary cycle of chemical activities which consti-
tute the life of the living substance. These researches
are described at length in the St. Thomas' 's Hospital
Report for 1S79, and more briefly, in The Index for
December 25, 1SS4, as well as in the articles on " Monera
and the Problem of Life," in The Popular Science
Monthly for September and October, 1S7S.
To the five years thus spent he added two more on
the Infusoria:, and so produced a paper which appeared
in the jenaische Zeitschrift fur Naturzvissenschaft,
volume xviii, and also in a separate pamphlet, under the
title of Ucbcr das Protoplasma einiger Elementar or-
oanismen. There he shows how the organization of
Infusoria with all its peculiarities can be explained as a
higher development of the different phases of the uni-
tary cycle of vital activities which constitutes protoplasm,
or the living substance. The paper has never been
translated, but its most interesting portion, the attack on
Darwin's theory of Pangenesis, may be found briefly
summarized in a series of articles in Mind for 1SS0,
which have been reprinted as pamphlets on " The Unity
of the Organic Individual." Here may also be found
his criticisms on the Polarigenesis of Herbert Spencer
and the Peiigenesis of Haeckel. Dr. Montgomery
holds, however, that " Life is not a consequence of
organization; but, on the contrary, it is the formless
protoplasm that builds up organized forms."
Two more years of hard work enabled him to pub-
lish, not only as an essay in Pfli'iger's Archiv fur die
gesammite Physiologic, volume xxv, but as a pamphlet
( Bonn, Emil Strauss, 1SS1 ). his observations of muscu-
lar motion, entitled Zur Lehrc von dcr Muskcl-contrak-
tion. Some of its most striking passages may be
translated thus: "As soon as we admit, with most of
the recent phvsiologists, that I he protoplasm of the mus-
cles is not essentially different from that of the lowest
forms of life, it can he fully proved that it is solely the
muscular substance itself which produces all the power
exerted in motion." " The spontaneous chemical in-
tegration of the living substance is the key to the secret
of its nourishment, growth, multiplication, resistance to
destructive influences and capacity of persistent reaction
against stimulating impulses. It is, in fact, the power
of resistance displayed in all vital function, a power
which not only opposes itself to all encro.ichment from
outside, but which moreover repairs the damage caused
by such encroachments, — is the fundamental peculiarity of
life." " The living substance is not an aggregate of equal
molecules held together by cohesion." "It is a chem-
ical unit and not a physical aggregate." "All the phe-
nomena of life rest at bottom on specific chemical pro-
cesses." "The chemical process which underlies muscular
activity is not one of oxydation, but one of disintegration
and reintegration." "The power of expansion is inher-
ent in the muscular substance; and not due to any com-
bustion, or other result of external influences." " The
living substance treasures up within itself, as internal
wealth, the organic results of endless previous elabora-
tion. Raised thus above the destructive ravages of
time, an indivisible, specific totality, it gathers the life
of the past into simultaneous presence, and confronts in
ever rejuvenated wholeness the scattering and perishing
things of this world. It is the living substance that is
perennially persistent, not the dead configurations of
unfeeling matter."
This paper is also interesting, as demonstrating that
the muscles are not composed of cells, and thus enabling
Dr. Montgomery to reply more emphatically then ever
in the negative to the question he has recently taken to
head a pamphlet: " Are we Cell-aggregates?" Here
he expressed (in November, 1880) his hope that "we
shall be delivered from having to consider ourselves" a
congregation of ever so many primitive lives, and shall
feel scientifically restored to the full dignity of indivisi-
ble autonomous personalities." The reader who prefers
to consider himself as a person, and not as a congrega-
tion, would do well to read carefully not only the
pamphlet just quoted, but those on the " Unity of the
Organic Individual." (Mind, Nos. xix and xx ).
And further evidence that we are not mere aggre-
gates of cells acted upon from without by some
higher power may be found in the arguments in
he Popular Science Monthly, September, 1S7S, that
" Nature does not consist of so many particles of inert
matter held together or pushed about by a set of
mysterious agents." "All vital efficacy resides in the
living substance itself, and forms an integral part of its
specific nature." " The power of our life is intrinsically
wrought, not extrinsically derived." Dr. Montgomery
says in an unpublished letter that " The recognition and
clear demonstration of the unity of the organic individ-
ual constitutes the solid basis for all my thinking." He
is receiving he informs us "spontaneous letters from
prominent scientists expressing their adherence to my
views, though with considerable caution as yet." Many
eminent German botanists, have recently, as he says,
THE OPEN COURT.
107
found out that "the entire protoplasm of a complete
plant forms a continuous substance. What have formerly
been taken for separate, closed cells turned out to be only
partial partitions between different portions of the con-
tinuous protoplasm which is seen to flow in and out."
The adoption of this view, and consequent recognition
of each plant as a single, coherent entity by Professors
Sachs and Klebs, is fully stated in the Biologisches
Cetitralblatt, for Nov. 15, 1SS4. Prof. Kollman, too,
of Basel, has adopted Dr. Montgomery's view of vital
motility and gives him due credit in a paper on
" Elementares Leben, " which forms a part of the great
German collection of scientific essays, edited by Vir-
chow and Holtzendorf. Most German physiologists
now ascribe the movement of muscles to their inherent
chemical properties.
The theory of the convertibility of forces, however,
involves the assertion that, as Mayer says: " The muscle
is not itself the material by means of whose chemical
metamorphosis the mechanical effect is produced," but
" only a machine through whose instrumentality is
brought about the transformation of force," — namely of
heat into muscular power. Dr. Montgomery has been
accordingly forced to oppose a current scientific belief,
which Spencer expresses thus: " The law of metamor-
phosis, which holds among the physical forces, holds
equally between them and the mental forces. These
modes of the unknowable which we call motion, heat,
light, chemical affinity, etc., are alike transformable
into each other and into those
able which we distinguish
thought, these in their turn
directly retransformable into
{First Principles, sec. 71). The inconsistency of the
theory of the convertibility of forces with the fact of
the stability of natural phenomena, has been urged by
Dr. Montgomery, not only in the Popular Science
Monthly, September and October, 1S7S, but also in a
lecture published in The Index for August 27, 1SS5,
previously read before the Concord School of Philos-
ophy— " Is Pantheism the Legitimate Outcome of
Modern Science ?" J and more exhaustively in five
articles, which appeared October, November and Decem-
ber of the same year in The Index, on " The Dual Aspect
% Dr. Montgomery's paper, read before the Concord School of
Philosophy last summer was regarded by many as the ablest essay
of the session. It was extravagantly praised by some and criti-
cized by others. A writer in the Congregationalist wrote :
"An elaborate paper from Dr. Montgomery, on The Platonic
Idea and Vital Organization, was in some points the most distinct-
ive one of the year, an altogether new and fresh line of thought
being opened up by it. The writer, though owning a name unfa-
miliar to the popular ear, is one of the ablest of living physiolo-
gists. He .believes that the present aggregative theory of life
is incorrect, and utterly at variance with any true theory of evolu-
tion, and has given years to exhaustive experiment in demonstra-
tions of his theory. Unluckily, his English is so German, and
German of the most complicated and bewildering nature, that the
bristling undergrowth must be cleared away before one can fully
realize the beauty and power of his presentation.
modes of the unknow-
as sensation, emotion,
being directly or in-
the original shapes."
of Our Nature." Here he protests against "such a riot of
metamorphosis as is implied in the convertibility of every
manifest mode of the unknown into every other mode
of the same, which means, in fact, the convertibility of
everything into everything else. Let no one think this
is an exaggerated statement. The reasoning is simple
enough. Every phenomenon in nature is the manifes-
tation of one and the same force. Such force-manifes-
tations are mutually convertible. Therefore, there is no
phenomenon, material or mental, which is not converti-
ble into any other phenomenon." He maintains that
"conceiving mental phenomena as modes of an all-com-
prising unknowable," implies transcending the limits of
organic individuality and falling into pantheistic idealism ;
that feeling and brain motion are not mutually convert-
ible; that our present existence is "not in the least phe-
nomenal," but a part of "the utmost reality of life;''
that this reality is larger and much more permanent than
consciousness; that "our mental presence constitutes in
itself the symbolical though practically reliable repre-
sentation of the very powers of- nature by which it is
produced ;" that " mind is an organic product," and that
"our veritable nature is a permanent non-mental entity,
of which our mental phenomena are an ever renewed
afflux."
In his address on " The Scientific Bases of Religious
Intuition," written by special request for the last con-
vention of the Free Religious Association, and printed
in the Index of May 27, 1SS6, the Doctor says:
"Our own being, from the very dawn of living exist-
ence, has been fashioned to the core, in ceaseless inter-
action with the powers that constitute the outer world.
We ourselves are individually something, some one,
only in relation to the world in which we are living.
Very visibly, there is not a single part of our body,
down to its minutest textures, that is not corresponding
to some outside relation." " And our mind, in its widest
sweep and its highest flight, has clearly no other normal
function than the conscious realization of our rela-
tions to outside nature. Only — to us human beings —
the relations to our own kind, those most intricate,
highly elaborated and refined relations making up our
social life and culture, have assumed pre-eminent im-
portance in our mental existence. They are in the real
medium, in which we humanly and morally live."
The following lines appeared in the Boston Record:
OUT-PLATOING THE PLATONISTS.
A Texan has floored the Concord crowd,
Sing high! and sing ho! for the great southwest;
He sent 'em a paper to read aloud,
And 'twas done up in style by one of their best.
The Texan he loaded his biggest gun
With all the wise words he ever had seen,
And he fired at long range with death-grim fun,
And slew all the sages with his machine.
He muddled the muddlers with brain-cracking lore,
He went in so deep tnat his followers were drowned,
But he swam out himself to the telluric shore,
And crowed in his glee o'er the earthlings around.
ENVOY.
Oh Plato, dear Plato, come back from the past!
And we'll forgive all that you e'er did to vex us
If you'll only arrange for a colony vast
And whisk these philosophers all off to Texas.
io8
THE OPEN COURT.
CORRESPONDENCE.
FREE-THOUGHT EDUCATION.
To the Editors:
The very interesting articles in numbers one and two of The
Open Court, by Messrs. Davidson's and Jappe, have awakened
in me a desire to say a word on the subject, it" you will be so kind
as to grant me a small space in your splendid journal.
The subject is one which is nearest my heart and embodies
the fondest hopes of my life. The ideas advanced in botli articles
are, on the whole, splendid. Yet I feel that the writers' concep-
tions are hardly broad enough and the great central idea underly-
ing the subject has been overlooked. In the consideration of this
subject free-thinkers should ask themselves what are the objects
of a tree-thought institution of learning. Mr. Jappe says Mr-
Davidson " is mistaken if he believes that a free-thought college
will do much good ; it is not in the colleges that the mind is
framed, as far as the feeling of fear and hope, of reverence and
esteem, are concerned." Is, then, the highest object of a free-
thought college to make free-thinkers of our boys and girls? If
this were all, there would indeed be little gained. All our col-
leges are doing this in spite of the superstitious influence sur-
rounding them.
What is it, above all other things, that is needed to secure the
most rapid advance of the cause of free-thought ? Is our greatest
need an institution or organization, whether it be college or lyceum,
that will send forth from its doors avowed and agressive free-
thinkers as the above statement would indicate ? I answer no.
The most imperative duty now resting upon us, is not so much
to guard the youth of our land against the poisonous influence of
superstition, as to enlist into the active service of free-thought
the thousands of men and women already free from its taint.
Do this, and there will be no need to warn the young and grow-
ing minds against the snares of orthodoxy. The comparative
weakness of the cause of free-thought is not due to a weakness in
the number of free-thinkers. Three-fourths of our people to-day
are either avowed free-thinkers or silent rejecters of othodox\.
The orthodox element of this country form a very small major-
ity. And yet orthodoxy, the great stumbling block in the path
ol progress, permeates every vestige of our progressive civilization
and holds the seat of highest honor, while free-thought, the
embodiment of all that is progressive, crouches before the tvrant,
a trembling slave. Think of the thousands of free-thinkers who,
while looking upon the Christian system as a mass of superstition,
deem it policy to remain silent. What is the cause of this ?
Mere is the key-note. Superstition wears the silken garb and
jeweled signet of honor and respect, free-thought is covered with
the slimy robe of approbrium and looked upon in contumely and
scorn. Whence this state of affairs ? You answer, the church
is thoroughly organized, free-thought is unorganized. True, and
in what lies the chief strength of this great organization, without
which orthodoxy would not dare to face the all-searching criti-
cism of the nineteenth century civilization f There can be but
one answer. It is the vast system of colleges and universities
that are dedicated to the cause of superstition. Give us a few
good free-thought colleges and the cause of free-thought will
command the respect of the world ; and, indeed, this should be
the profoundest of reasons for establishing them. This is a prac-
tical age. The world demands of every system the fruits of its
workings. When asked what free-thought has done for man-
kind, we proudly turn, and truly too, and point to our magnificent
educational system, but the church says, not so, this is the child
of Christianity. And, by the way, when we think of the old
adage, possession is nine points in law, we feel like dropping our
claim.
Let us then build to the honor and glory of our cause a few
imperishable monuments that will stand alike the ravages of
time and the batteries of superstition. Let us establish a few free-
thought colleges and universities. Then will free-thought
become a title which all will be proud to wear. Justice will be
meted out for the glorious work it has done, orthodoxy will lose
its hold upon the world, our public schools will become purified
and there will be no need for free-thought lyceums to make free-
thinkers of our bovs and girls. Until the name free-thinker is
respected and honored by the mass of humanity equally with the
name Christian, our lecturers, our press, our writers, our lyceums,
our thousands of earnest workers in the armv of free-thought,
can avail but little. To accomplish this we must offer to the
world something tangible, something to which we can point as
the glory of free-thought, something to which orthodoxy can lay
no claim. Pre-eminently this something is a free-thought insti-
tution of learning and this should be our chief object in establish-
ing one M. D. Leahy.
BOSTON CORRESPONDENCE.
To ///<■ Editors:
In these days of rapid transit, when places as distant from
each other as Boston and Chicago are brought near together and
communications between them are exchanged in a few hours,
and their commingling influences tend to obliterate their local
peculiarities and give to them common resemblances and affinities,
it becomes less difficult to be reconciled to the removal of
The Index to the more favorable soil of the West, than it
would be if these considerations were wanting; though one may
deplore the exigency which seems to render it expedient, or miss
in the metempsychosis the familiar aspect and featuresof its pre-
existence.
It is true we who dwell at the "hub" are disposed to feel that
Boston is the natural home of all progressive things, the spot
where alone they can healthfully thrive, and whence hopefully
eminate. And there has been much in its history, as all the
world knows, to nurture this pursuasion. It is not strange, there-
fore, despite the happy auguries that accompanied it, that we wit-
nessed the departure of what we had been accustomed to regard
as peculiarly our own and possessing a certain indigenous rela-
tion to this locality, in some sense our oracle, (if it is lawful for
radicals to have one), at least with special endearment and pride,
to the care of other hands and to what we are apt to consider a less
genial intellectual clime with feelings that were not wholly com-
placent. But all things change in this changing world. The
Boston of to day, it must be confessed with humiliation, is not the
Boston it was once. Nor is the Chicago of to-day, it is safe to
assert, I think, exactly the Chicago of twenty years ago, in re-
spect to much which then marked the difference between the East-
ern and the Western city, and especially that was incident to the
latter's immaturity, rapid growth and the prevailing influence of
material pursuits. A leveling process has been going on during
these years which has largely reduced the inequalities that they
bore in relation to each other. It may seem almost disloyal to
write it, but there are some signs that while Chicago has increased
Boston has decreased in important particulars. Indeed there are
those who boldly intimate, not in Boston of course, that it has
lost the literary prominence it so long maintained, that New York
has already appropriated the distinction. It must also be admitted
that Chicago is no longer to be counted an insignificant competi-
tor in the pursuit of such honors. Certain it is that those who
occupy the high places of power in our city at present and exer-
cise a prominent, if not a controlling authority and influence in
its educational and public affairs, and give the tone in no small
degree to its social life, are as a rule of other than New England
birth, and of quite a different type from those who presided in
THE OPEN COURT.
109
former days over its interests, when Boston was famous for its
genuine social culture, its illustrious names in literature and the
professions, its philanthropic spirit and independent thinking.
Nevertheless, there will be for a considerable time to come,
with all good wishes for its successor, in this neighborhood and
wherever it has gone, among the friends and readers of The Index,
a feeling of real regret at its decease and a deep sense of depriva-
tion at the loss of its accustomed weekly visits. Its record has
been in all respects a noble one. No journal has surpassed it in
vigor of thought or critical ability or crowded its columns more
fullv from week to week with matter worthy of the attention of
earnest, truth-seeking, free minded people. It is a fortunate
circumstance in connection with the new journalistic enterprise
at Chicago, that its editors come to their charge with all the
advantages of several years' experience in the same relation to its
predicessor; and hence have an intimate acquaintance with the
constituency for which they are to fill the office of purveyors.
Both the editor in chief and his capable assistant are of New Eng-
land origin and life long associations, but while this is the case,
the former does not go to the West as a stranger. It was his
business for vears to travel and lecture all over it. Probably
there is no one who is personally better known to the liberals ot
the country whose voice has been heard in so many places or
before a greater number of liberal gatherings, like one of old cry-
ing in the wilderness — the wilderness in his day of modern errors
and superstition — preparing the way for the coming of a higher
righteousness and reason. It is thus that the editors of this new
organ of liberalism are to assume the trust assigned them with
eminent qualifications adequately to appreciate and sympathize
with the characteristics and peculiarities of East and West alike.
It seems, therefore, as though nothing remains, but for earnest
liberals of both sections, in fact everywhere, to give the new
enterprise their cordial and helpful support. All hail ! then, we
say, to The Open Court, may it live long and prosper. We
pass to other matters.
The two Sams, Small and Jones, have come and gone. The
event may not be one of great interest to liberals, but it has been
to the orthodox world in this vicinity and the public in general.
I fear that vent, zn'di, via, can hardly be written of their visit.
There are still unmistakable signs that Boston is not saved, after
all the nine days' sensation of their preaching. The course of
things does not appear to have changed, but to all outward dis-
cernment proceeds as before. I do not hear of less arrests at the
station houses. The liquor traffic seems as flourishing as ever. I
do not believe anyone can point to a single saloon, after all
this tremendous charge upon satanic strong holds, that has been
closed. The number of the poor wretches who stagger through the
streets has not apparently diminished. Teamsters and herdic
drivers are no gentler, so far as I can see, in their manners, nor
do they swear less vigorously at each other upon slight provoca-
tions. What is the good of all this turmoil and pow-wow if
simply those who are tolerably decent and respectable already,
from whom the community has little if anything to fear, are the
chief conversions? The sceptical, in view of these things, cannot
refrain from the question, whether, if the same amount of zeal and
money had been spent in labors to alleviate the actual misery
which always exists in all great cities like ours, and especially at
this season, it might not have been a work as urgent and import-
ant as efforts so largely influenced by media; val views of the
misery of another and future state of existence. And yet it
must be confessed that, for those on certain planes of life, there is
a power in this old theology and its methods which more enlight-
ened conceptions and processes do not possess, a power to lift
them up, perchance, a little higher in the scale of being. Unfor-
tunately, this lifting process is one that has to be pretty often
repeated in some instances, and the attitude attained is not even
then a very commanding one. Other evangelists, it is announced,
are to follow those just mentioned, indeed have already begun
their work. In fact, it looks as if Boston was about to undergo a
seige from these invaders.
This is one way of trying to make the world better, of seeking
to reclaim the wicked and degraded of our city, but I confess 1
am more disposed to believe in the worth of the results of such
a plan as that proposed for our North End wards by Hon. George
S. Hale at a recent meeting of the Unitarian club. It is to pro
vide a simple and spacious building in that part of the city, which
is chiefly occupied by foreigners and the poorer classes of people,
which shall contain "a coffee house or restaurant for uninjurious
refreshments; a regulated pawnbroker's shop where the poor and
needy may obtain loans, without extortion, on their humble securi-
ties; an attractive hall where, for a moderate price, simple and
innocent amusements may be offered freely during the week to
tempt those it is desired to reach from those dangerous and
vulgar ;and where there may be temperance meetings and others
for open and friendly discussions of political and social questions,
popular lectures and classes, athletic exercises, rooms for games
of billiards, draughts, dominoes, bagatelle, for smoking and read-
ing, for friendly societies, and on Sunday for religious services
with music and choir, not limited to any sect or faith ; w here the
Knights of Labor, the members of trades Unions and their
employers may meet for friendly discussion and conference. ' I
would throw open these rooms and halls," said the essayest, "to
every man of orderly speech and life who, in honesty, felt he had
a mission to the rich and poor — I would not inquire into his
theology or his political and social orthodox v, but I would 'hear
his cry.'" This is the liberal "plan of salvation " for the sinning
and "poor and needy." Its practical character is too obvious to
need commendation.
The epidemic of strikes, so prevalent throughout the country
nowadays, and of which this part, it would seem, had hitherto had
its share, has been especially violent ol late in this city. The
outbreak began this time, with the strike ot the conductors and
drivers of the South Boston horse railroad company. This was
followed a few day later, by a general strike on all the lines of
the Cambridge roads connecting with the city, thus throwing
several hundred unemployed men into the streets, with all the
liability to turbulence and danger to the public which such a state
of things engenders. As both roads run through sections occupied
by the worst class of our people, acts of violence and lawless-
ness have attended the running of the cars in these localities,
especially at night and on Sundays, to a very alarming extent
and have made policemen's duties along the route something
more than a sinecure or idle pastime. The substitutes, or "scab"
conductors and drivers have been subjected to continual annoy-
ances on their trips from the beginning to the end, and have held
their places in the face of most exasperating and deadlv perils.
They have been hooted at, some of them fiercely assaulted and
knocked from their cars, and have met with severe bodilv injuries,
while brickbats and paving stones, hurled through the windows
of the cars, have rendered the experiences of those inside more
exciting than agreeable. After a number of weeks of this state
of things in our good city of Boston, the strikers on the
Cambridge roads voted to give up the strike, and those on
the South Boston road soon followed their example. What
is the lesson? The companies have been very much embarrassed
in their business, and the community in general in its interest
and convenience. The men, too, have lost much. Perhaps in
proportion to their means more than all others. They have
been for weeks unemployed, with loss of wages, living on pre-
vious earnings, or incurring debts, while both they and their
families have suffered much privation. The question arises in
view of these events, whether there is not some more excellent
I IO
THE OPEN COURT.
way than the way of the strike for the workingman to adopt to
establish equitable or satisfactory relations between him and his
employer and obtain the rights which belong to his labor.
Here in Massachusetts there still linger, as is well known,
many of the vestiges of the code of the Puritans in our statutes,
and especially in regard to the observance of Sunday. There has
been a good deal of radical and legislative powder and dynamite
of a verbal sort expended first and last to get rid of them, but with
little more effect than a like assault upon the rock of Gibralter.
Within the last year there has been a strenuous effort to put these
existing Sunday laws in force. What is the use, we may presume
our astute or pious legislators reasoned, to have Sunday laws and
make no use of them? So the edict went forth in many places
that the barbers and bakers, druggists and news venders, and all
who did business on the " Lord's day " should henceforth cease
from these occupations on that day. The surest way of getting
rid of obnoxious laws, it is often said, is to try to enforce them.
The saying seems to be verified in this instance. The subject has
already occupied much of the attention of the present session of
our legislature and is not yet disposed of. Different bills have
been presented and discussed, each prepared with the intent of
satisfying, so far as possible, the orthodox conscience and intol-
erance on the one hand and the necessities of our modern life
and the growth of rational intelligence on the other. A task
that is not altogether an easy one.
There seems some prospect that Boston may soon follow the
lead of some of the cities of the country, Chicago among the rest,
I believe, in providing police stations with matrons to have
charge of women under arrest at these places. The matter is
eliciting much public interest and is warmly endorsed by the
governor, the mayor and many of our leading citizens and phil-
anthropists. It is hardly creditible to Boston, in view of the
number of cities in which this custom exists, that it should have
waited so long before waking up to an act of so simple and
obvious humanity.
Boston abounds in clubs. Their growth has been very rapid
within the last few years, and the number continually increases.
We have women's clubs and men's clubs, church clubs and politi-
cal clubs, college clubs, musical clubs, art clubs, literary clubs,
schoolmasters' clubs, business and trade clubs, and often a number
of any single one of these varieties. Indeed, the remark has been
made that it is likely to be a distinction in Boston by and by for
a person not to belong to a club. Among these numerous and
various clubs it may be of interest to know that liberals also
possess a distinct representation. The Liberal Union club has
been some three or four years in existence. It has a member-
ship of a hundred or thereabouts of liberals distinguished for
character and intelligence. The president is Mr. Francis E.
Abbott, the projector of The Index, and for many years its brave
and brilliant editor. The meetings occur on the last Saturday of
each month at Young's Hotel, the favorite resort of such gather-
ings, whose elegance of accommodation, appointments and serv-
ice, and artistic culinary skill is not surpassed by any simi-
lar establishment probably in the country. The programme on
these occasions consists of a supper, which is pretty sure of appre-
ciation at least, whatever may be the fate of its other parts, and
an essay, with addresses, with some musical or other entertaining
exercises interspersed at fitting points in the course of the even-
ing. The February meeting of the club was a red-letter night in
its history. It was distinguished as " ladies' night," a new de-
parture for the club. In other words the members were expected
to bring ladies with them, one each at least, as guests of the even-
ing. The proposition was received with favor. It gave the
members an opportunity to show their wives and daughters, or
some one's else wives and daughters, as the case might be, how
their evenings were passed at the club meetings. The attendance
on this occasion was between sixty and seventy. Miss Mary F. „
Eastman, the essayist of the evening, spoke on "Our Duty to
Speak our Utmost Thought;" the paper was vivacious and pleas-'
ing and not too heavy for an after dinner exercise. Miss Eastman
was followed by the venerable Mrs. E. D. Cheney, who, with a
few appropriate words, beamed her motherly benediction on the
occasion. Mr. W. L. Garrison, in easy flowing verse, gave ex-
pression to some of his " utmost thoughts." One was, ladies
should also be members of the club, and another, that wine and
cigars should be excluded. Here endeth the first letter, and too
long a one, I fear, of your Boston correspondent. Clayton.
HOW SUNDAY LAWS ARE MANUFACTURED.
To the Editors: Boston, March 17, 1S80.
The recent debate of two hours in the Massachusetts House
of Representatives showed me, not only how such laws are made,
but how they can be amended. The speakers cared little for
abstract principles; but all agreed in their desire to come up fully
to the standard of public opinion, and to whatever the people
asked. There is good reason to believe that the laws against Sun-
day travel and Saturday evening amusements will be repealed,
and also that the business now done illegally on "the Lord's day"
by milkmen, newsboys, barbers, bakers, telegraph operators, gas-
men, stablemen, druggists, horse-car people, printers, and other
indispensible criminals, will be legalized by special exceptions to
the general prohibition of business and labor. It is still a ques-
tion how far these kinds of Sabbath-breaking are to be limited to
special hours, and whether people who keep the real Bible Sab-
bath every Saturday, are to be permitted to open their shops and
expose their wares for sale. It should be remembered, that in all
other respects they have been allowed to labor and do business
for the last fifty years, and that the request to be allowed to show
goods publicly, as well as to sell them privately, does not appear
to come from the most enlightened members of the body. The
most important difference is about amusement, some members
calling for total abolition of what they stigmatize as the blue laws,
while others oppose letting of boats, etc., and insist that nothing
more lively should be permitted than a concert of sacred music.
One Solon, professing to speak from a purely humanitarian point
of view, said: "The Sabbath is made for man, not man for the
Sabbath; and for this reason there ought not to be any recreation
on Sunday." Others protested for amusements in the name of
the poor. Still, whatever disagreement there is in the State
House is due to the different habits prevailing among the people.
Our legislators all wish to ratify what has already been decided
by public opinion, but they are not likely to go any further in
reform.
Whatever is done in repealing the laws against Sunday travel,
or particular kinds of business, or Saturday evening amusements
will be done not to open agitation but to the quiet agreement of
the whole community to treat all this part of our legislation as
null and void. I remember when our theatres used to announce
that they would give performances Saturday evening, in order to
test the law. Here in Massachusetts a statute has to be tried and
found wanting, before it can be repealed. Our legislators say
plainly: " If you will prove that the law against Sunday amuse-
ments cannot be enforced, we are willing to alter it; but so long
as the community submits contentedly, we see no occasion to
interfere." For those of us that think, as I do, that more freedom
in Sunday recreation is necessary for the health and good
behavior of our people, especially the poor, our duty is plain and
urgent. It is not preaching but example that will do the work.
'ork.
H.
Is there, then, no death for a word once spoken?
Was never a deed but left its token?
Do the elements subtle reflections give?
Do pictures of all the ages live
On Nature's infinite negative? — Whlttier.
THE OPEN COURT.
in
DEATH IN THE CAGE.
BY GEORGE WENTZ.
In China old, in any city street.
You still may see what stirs your noble rage.
Yet scarce gives pause to any passing feet—
A man within a cage !
A narrow, upright box, so cunning made
That on his head atop the sun doth pour;
Hung by his jaws he lacketh much of aid
From toes that touch its floor.
And there attached a scroll that bears his name,
His age and race and occupation late,
His sentence— death— and what he did to shame
The laws of sovreign state.
And also this : the penalty extreme
To him who, softened at the heart, should think,
However great the culprits' need might seem,
To give him meat or drink.
And there he hangs, and moans and shrieketh shrill.
In supplication as you pass his way,
And then grows faint; hut no less pleadeth still
Tomorrow, as to-day.
But not for aye; quick nature's chord is broke,
And heart-strings snap when too intense the strain.
The third day comes; his need is looked, not spoke,
And he is past his pain.
The air is still; no living sound near by,
Save where the crowd a little space away
Strives eagerly, beneath his glazing eye,
For seats to see a play.
And he is dead! one life the less is nought
In all the millions that survive in pain;
"When man is valueless, the thought
Of how he dies is vain.
Now he is dead write China's thousand years
Beside this woful picture here apart:
A^e may adorn; but how unloved appears
Gray head that hath no heart!
BOOK NOTICES.
" THE ORIGIN OF THE FITTEST."
The readers of The Open Court will, I am sure, be grateful for
having their attention called to a book just from the press of
Appleton & Co., entitled The Origin of the Fittest, by our
ablest American biologist, E. D. Cope. I do not hesitate to
say that, since Darwin and Wallace, no investigation has been
more important or more ably conducted than that embodied in
this book; and that since Spencer and Lewes no generizations
have been so profound and wonderful. Difficult as the work of the
earlier evolutionists was, that of this later or second school is no
less so. Darwin assumed, or allowed to rest, the conception of a
Creator, only dispensing with the idea of special creations. He
distinctly avowed the view of a single primal creation, in which,
inherent, was the full potency of self-evolving purposiveness
manifested in evolution. This complete "Natura" needed no
after-meddlings or supplements, or extra natural miracles. But
later evolutionists are quite of a different mind. They have taken
such theists as Diman and Hamilton at their word, when they
say, it is " evidently our duty to push the first cause as far back
as possible." They have given one final push, and lo, the final
cause is not to be found; so the contest stands to-day a simple
one between those who assert with Newman, Diman, Mivart,
» We believe in One who is apart from, and above Nature, the
cause, etc.," and those who find in the manifest substantial uni-
verse all of causality. Bishop Foster's idea of creation is pro-
bably very nearly the common theistic view, when he says, "The
world was fitted up for man's occupancy, with adequate means
inherent, or supplemented, to meet all his needs." Supplements!
to the work of an all-wise Creator! "I thank thee for that
word!" It reminds me of an "Appendix" I saw carved to
an epitaph on a tombstone in a Western cemetery.
I need not say that "The Origin of the Fittest" is fully com-
mitted to the later and broader evolution. It does not hesitate to
go back of the " beginnings " of life on our globe and seek for the
origin of life, and of that which life involves: consciousness,
matter and force are the primal trinity which must be
accounted for. Are they derivatives or primatives? In other
words, are they the constitutive eternal elements? or is there a
God, a Being apart from Nature, who either creates mat-
ter and force or imparts to eternal matter and force his own
sentience ?
The one emphatic and descriptive quality of the later evolu-
tionism is the acknowledgement that matter and force alone do
not cover the universe as it is, nor as it was primordially. The
rhizopod, equally with man, manifests a sensibility and a pur-
posive desire that is not included in the energy that is purely
material. Huxley, in his late passage of logic with Mr. Lilly,
says, "The main tenet of materialism is, that there is nothing in
the universe but matter and force, and that all the phenomena of
nature are explicable by deduction from the properties assign-
able to these two factors; all this I heartily disbelieve." Pro-
fessor Cope's argument is everywhere underlaid with this pre-
sumption, or rather demonstration; for I take it that what a final
reduction of the universe in the crucible of analysis insists on
giving us, that we must take as demonstrably certain.
So the problem is carried inimensly back of Darwinism. The
essays entitled " Catagenesis " and " Archa:sthetism," I believe
to be the two most remarkable and able attempts in metaphysi-
cal evolution extant, excepting possibly the accompanying essay,
entitled "Consciousness in Evolution." To give a review of
such articles would be only to repeat or epitomize them, and the
latter attempt would be futile, as the essays are exceedingly con-
centrated. I will simply suggest one of the final conclusions of
Archresthetism. The question arises whether there may not be
in and throughout the universe some generalized form of matter
which can sustain consciousness; for clearly, so far as our
investigation goes, consciousness is associated only with proto-
plasm ; that is, with a certain specific chemical union of carbon,
hydrogen, nitrogen and oxygen. By a course of able reasoning
we are°led to this conclusion. "The presumption is that such a
form of matter may well exist. Evolution or organization has
only worked up part of its raw material in the organic world."
I wish I could spread before your readers pages of this magnifi-
cent generalization. I must not undertake it. Equally powerful
is his handling of catagenesis, or retrogressive evolution. The
problem is to account for that consciousness, or sentience, or sen-
sibility, or "feeling," as Lewes terms it, which characterizes
primordial life, when the common life divergently becomes on
the one side animal, on the other vegetable. What does the
vegetable kingdom do with this property of sentience, or is it
also in reality now a sentient part of the world? Prof. Asa
Gray argues that it is sentient. The discussion by Prof. Cope
clears the subject of a host of misapprehensions. The key of it
I 12
THE OPEN COURT.
is that energy, as soon as it becomes automatic is no longer con-
scious. The vegetable kingdom is a display of automatic energy.
The animal kingdom is also full of automatism in the form of
reflex action or instinct, but is also largely conscious.
Carrying back these general conclusions we reach the final
conclusion that mind and matter are no more to be conceived as
separable in the universal than in the individual. The individual
as such is not dual, but una], a substantiality. So, of the uni-
versal, it can be conceived onlv as a One, absolute, involving
both matter and mind.
"The Origin of the Fittest" is equally valuable as a discus-
sion of organic evolution. It is to Prof. Cope we owe the gener-
alizations, and to a large extent the investigations, connected
with the enormous fossil finds in Colorado and throughout the
West. In 1S74 he foretold that the ancestors of a large group
of Tertiary Mammals when found would prove to be pentata-
dactyle, plantigrade bunodont; that is a five-toed walker on the
sole of the foot unlike our ruminants, and possessed of tubercular
molar teeth. In 1881 the prophecy was fulfilled. The genus, so
far best known of this division, is called the phenocodus, but the
group is known as condylarthra. Converging in this con-
dylarthra group are traceable backward by nearly complete
lines, the ox, deer, camel, hog, hippopotamus, horse; also
the carniverous lion, tiger, wolf, bear; but, above all, the
lemur tribe. To this lemur tribe, as a common ancestor, the
apes and men are now traceable. Before this work of anatomical
biology all other synthetical results stand unicified. I look on it
as the most supurb triumph of science of the last twenty-five
years. The article which most explicitly recounts this progress
of generalization was published in The Popular Science Monthly
of September, 1885. But the general results are contained in the
volume I have named, "The Origin of the Fittest." The great
geological basin of the West has revealed the story of the last
five millions of years with an accurracy, that twenty years ago,
seemed an absolute impossibility. The Tertiarv Mammals are in
reality one family, moving out on diverging lines from one an-
cestral type to become the carnivorous and herbivorous occu-
pants of the globe. Of all these man stands most closely to the
original type. He is plantigrade and pentadactyle. The horse,
the ox and all the other genera of this stock are in structure, not
only more divergent from the ancestral type, but completer in
the organic sense, in bone, and muscle and sinew. Fortunately
our group made a blunt stop in the way of polishing bones and
toughening sinews and put all its energy to brain-building, and
on that line, and for that reason, behold man ! But I must leave
Prof. Cope to speak for himself. E. D. Powell.
Parleyings With People of Importance in Their Day.
By Robert ISroivning. Boston: Houghton, Mifflin iV Co., 18S7;
pp. 187. Price $1.25.
Browning apparently intended gently to " point a moral " by
the title of this latest work of his pen, that moral being the evan-
escent nature of certain sorts of fame, for none of his " people of
importance in their day" excepting Fust, the inventor of printing,
will be readily recognized by the general readers of this; they are
Bernard de Mandeville, a venal writer who had no perceptible
faith in the good and true in human nature; Daniel Bartoli,
a chronicler of pious legends; Christopher Smart, whose only
"smartness" or perhaps inspiration was shown by a poem
scratched by him on the walls of a mad-house where he was con-
fined because of insanity; George Budd Doddington, whose
superficial scheming secured him a title; Francis Furini, an
artist whose specialty was as a painter of the nude human form ;
Gerard de Lairesse, an artist who, losing his sight, was yet so
enthusiastic over his calling that he dictated a work in eulogy ol
it, and Charles Avison, a composer of simple marches. These
" parleyings" give one the impression that Browning has sum-
moned "from the vasty deep" or some similar place, the restless
ghosts of these " people of importance " to whom he deals out in
his own inimitably vague and " 1-know-it-all " sort of way,
master-like philosophical deductions from possible (though rather
improbable) lessons from their lives and works. To the com-
monplace reader, the strongest and clearest poems of the book are
those which open and close the volume, — the prologue entitled
" Apollo and the Fates," and the epilogue " Fust and His
Friends", — but there are clear-cut, cameo-like, robust bits of
verse, appreciable by all, in most of the poems, in proof whereof
we quote sparingly from much that invites. Says Apollo, in the
prologue arguing with the remorseless Fates for the life of
Admetus:
" 'Tis man's to explore
Up and down, inch by inch, with the taper his reason:
No torch, it suffices— held deftly and straight.
Eyes, purblind at first, feel their way in due season,
Accept good with bad, till unseemly debate
Turns concord, — despair, acquiescence in fate."
From " Francis Furini" we take this recognition of the wide
scope of scientific investigation :
" Science takes thereto —
Encourages the meanest who has racked
Nature until he gains from her some fact,
To state what truth is from his point of view,
Mere pin-point though it be. Since many such
Conduce to make a whole, she bids our friend
Come forward unabashed and haply lend
tits little life-experience to our much
Of modern knowledge."
In the same poem Browning puts into definite form a ques-
tion which has doubtless arisen in the minds of many thinkers
who have hesitated over the dubious word :
• " ' Soul ' — accept
A word which vaguely names what no adept
In word-use, fits and fixes, so that still
Thing shall not slip word's fetter, and remain
Innominate as first, yet, free again
Is no less recognized the absolute
Fact underlying that same other fact
Concerning which no cavil can dispute
Our nomenclature when we call it ' Mind ' —
Something not Matter — 'Sou! ' who seeks shall find
Distinct beneath that something."
In this poem the theorv of evolution is criticised from the
poet's peculiar point of view, strongly, of course, though uniquely.
OPINIONS OF THE OPEN COURT.
The Court opens gloriously and I hope it will examine and decide all ques-
tions within its jurisdiction in the same masterly way The Index did. — Peed
Beck, Boston.
The Open Court more than tills the gap left by the suspension of The
Index. — Mrs. Mary Gunning, Florida.
In bodv and dress it exceeds what I had expected. There is a beauty about
its face and a free intelligence gleaming through its matter which becomes at
once an allurement. And I, of course, wish you speed and lasting possibilities.
— H. L. TraUBUL.
The Open Court opens splendidly. The articles I have been able tu read
are very rich and suggestive. — Ciias. D. B. Mills.
The Open Court received. I am more than pleased with its appearance and
contents. It is a publication tha cannot he overpraised and one which deserves
more than prnise—finanrial suppo f.— Harry Hoover, Pittsburgh, Pa.
The Open Court looks well, reads well, promises well. Its success de-
pends, I think, upon its being a journal. It must grapple with passing events
and give the news of " the movement." Essays may help, but cannot give
success. James Parton.
I have just read through the third number of The Open Court, and con-
gratulate you on its excellence. It seems to me that the three numbers thus far
issued may be compared as good, better, best. Rowland Connor.
" The Court," Open Court, is a most admirable and fortunate title. Every-
body smiles when shown it, and some have pleasant remarks concerning it.
Judge likes this " judicial title." " Yes, yes," said one gentleman,
"that's what we need — an 'open court I' I suppose you will give a fellow a
chance to jaw back?" G. P. Deleplaine, Madison, Wis.
The Open Court.
A Fortnightly Journal,
Devoted to the Work of Establishing Ethics and Religion Upon a Scientific Basis.
Vol. I. No. 5.
CHICAGO, APRIL 14, 1887.
1 Three Dollars per Year.
I Single Copies, 15 cts.
LABOR CRANKS.
BY JAMES PARTON.
The most interesting passage in Harriet Martineau's
Retrospect of Western Travel is one in which she de-
scribes the three eminent senators, Clay, Webster and
Calhoun, as they appeared to her in 1S36, when they
were in the prime of their celebrity and power. She
heard them in the senate and spent many evenings with
them in the most intimate and familiar converse. She
speaks of Henry Clay sitting upright on the sofa, with
his snuff-box always in his hand, discoursing for many
an hour in his soft and deliberate tone, on some leading
subject of American politics. What surprised her was
the moderation of his judgments of men and things,
knowing well what an impetuous spirit he had derived
from nature and circumstances.
She describes Webster, too, not merely as the giant
debater of the senate, hut also as the delightful com-
panion, leaning back at his ease, telling stories, cracking
jokes, shaking the sofa with burst after burst of laugh-
ter, occasionally rising into serious discourse, to the per-
fect felicity of intelligent hearers. The picture she
draws of these two famous men gives us the idea of
sanity and cheerfulness; of men with great powers em-
ployed in high, congenial tasks; not indeed devoid of
ambition, but possessing also a genuine and over-master-
ing public spirit.
Her account of Calhoun is sadly different. She
speaks of him as the cast-iron man, who looked as if he
had never been born and could never be extinguished;
full of close, rapid, theoietical, illustrated talk, which
kept the understanding of the hearer on a painful stretch,
but left it unenlightened and unconvinced. He had but
one subject of discourse, a theory of government nar-
rowed to the dimensions of South Carolina, and forced
to include as integral parts Slavery and Nullification. It
was interesting to hear him, because all that he said
gave evidence of intellectual power, but the final im-
pression left upon the stranger's mind was one of abso-
lute melancholy.
"His mind," she remarks, "has long lost all power
of commu7iicating with any other. I know of no man
who lives in such utter intellectual solitude. He meets
men and harangues by the fireside as in the senate; he
is wrought like a piece of machinery, set going vehe-
mently by a weight, and stops while you answer; he
either passes by what you say or twists it into a suita-
bility with what is in his head, and begins to lecture
again. * * * Relaxation is no longer in the power
of his will. I never saw anyone who so completely
gave me the idea of possession"
In these few words of Miss Martineau's we have
an excellent description of that type of man to which
we now give familiarly the name of crank, the man
who has become unteachable, or, as the lady says, has
lost the power of communicating with other minds.
This, I should say, is the special characteristic of the
man who harps upon one idea. He never views it by
the light of other minds; he never sees it in its relation
to other ideas.
That was a great touch of Miss Martineau — " he
had lost the power of communicating with other minds"
— and it describes many of our too positive brethren of
to-day. Many of them are of a far nobler type of man
than Calhoun, because they lost a portion of their sanity
through an honest and overwhelming compassion for
the human lot. A very large number of people are in
danger of getting cranky from this cause; not that men
are more unhappy now than formerly, but because we
have become more susceptible to their unhappiness.
We are less able than we once were to sit down content
with a fortunate destiny, while there is miser}' close by.
France had never been in a condition less bad than in
1789, when the revolution broke out. She had become
aware of her unhappiness, and the discovery drove her
mad.
Probably no man who, touched by human sorrow,
honestly tries to relieve it, ever quite fails to be of ser-
vice, because even if he tries in wrong ways, his errors
are instructive. At least, he may call attention to evils
which he is himself powerless to remedy, as the mid-
night shriek of a woman who sees a rock ahead while
the helmsman nods at his post, may save the ship. The
shriek is heard; it wakes the man at the wheel; it calls
the captain; it alarms the crew; and the vessel sheers
away from the rock-bound cape in time.
On the other hand, no one is more likely to get
cranky in his opinions than one who broods too much
over the sorrows of mankind. A person of tender
heart, young, unused to the sight of suffering, little
acquainted with the past history of our race — its slowr
and hard struggle from want almost universal to plenty
1 I.
THE OPEN COURT.
almost universal — may very easily get astray, and give
passionate credence to fallacious theories. Perhaps 1
may be pardoned for alluding to my own experience,
the recollection of which suggested this subject, and has
enable! me to explain many wild theories and many
one-sided men.
At the age of twenty, during a year's residence in
England, I was taken to visit one of those vast poor-
houses, then called Unions, in which the paupers of sev-
eral parishes, sometimes thousands in number, were, for
the sake of economy, maintained together. It was an
appalling spectacle to one who had never before seen
destitution except as an obvious result of vice or sudden
calamity. I beheld immense numbers of paupers in a
county teeming with luxuriant crops, and those paupers
not of alien race, but natives of that soil, not vicious, not
degraded, but, apparently, well-disposed, respectable per-
sons, some of them having a striking aspect of purity
and refinement. What startled and shamed me most
was the deference these unhappy people paid to the
visitors. When we entered the wash-house, for exam-
ple, where a hundred clean, orderly, and nice-looking
women, all dressed in blue, were ranged along on both
sides bobbing up and down over their tubs, they all
stopped, stood erect, made two quick but low curtsies,
and then resumed their work.
This was too horrible. I felt myself blushing scarlet,
and hurried out of the room in an agony of shame and
pity. But into whatever other room we entered, this
uniform double curtsey was repeated; as if it was not
we who should bow low to them, and humbly apologize
to thc?n for our insolence in enjoying freedom and
plenty. At last, I saw something.which broke me down
completely. It was an interview between a mother and
her son, a boy of fourteen, who had been allowed by
the officers of the poor-house to join the drum-corps of
a regiment of infantry under orders for India. She had
just been told of it, and she was trying to understand it;
trying to grasp the idea that her boy, the only solace
left to her, was about to march from his native parish,
never to return while she lived. Her grief, her despair,
her awful silence and stillness, her infinite and irremedi-
able desolation, were far beyond words to describe.
I have never been so near insanity as I was during the
rest of that day, ami I did not quite recover my serenity
until I had got out of the country. I am conscious that
I had a narrow escape, if I did escape, from being a
labor crank. Such a scene gets the understanding under,
and may easily disqualify a person from thinking bene-
ficially.
Tlie very same spectacle, which could then be seen
in every county of England and Scotland, caused Car-
lyle to write a harrowing book on the subject, called
Past and Present, in which he painted the evil with terri-
fic force, but suggested remedies of the most frivolous
inadequacy. He was a crank, made such by ego-
tism and imperfect knowledge. Two other men of
healthy minds and generous hearts, Richard Cobden
and John Bright, took off their coats, as Mr. Parnell
expresses it, and worked with all their might for six
years in getting the Corn Laws repealed, which gave to
the people of Great Britain cheap food, and thus reduced
pauperism to endurable proportions for thirty years.
"The dismal science," was what Carlyle called po-
litical economy. He was a crank who had lost the
power of being instructed by other minds — not igno-
rant merely, but a despiser of knowledge. Cobden
took one leaf out of that dismal science, set free those
paupers and gave his country another chance. Cobden
was a modest, teachable, great man, infinitely removed
trom crankiness.
The eminent crank of political economy, the perfect
type of the class, was Fourier, whom Horace Greeley
introduced to our notice in the Tribune forty years ago.
In the year 1799, during a period of scarcity in France,
he was a merchant's clerk at Marseilles, in the employ-
ment of a firm engaged in importing provisions. They
had a large quantity of rice on hand, a leading article
in food in Southern France. In order to maintain the
price of this commodity, his firm kept a cargo so long
during the hot weeks of the summer that it was spoiled,
and young Fourier was sent on board of the vessel to
superintend its destruction by the crew. The rice, I
believe, was thrown overboard.
This clerk was a young man; he was benevolent,
and at this time he was filled with compassion for the
sufferings of the poor in Marseilles, whom this rice
would have relieved, and, particularly, the sick in the
hospitals, for many of whom in the climate of the Medi-
terranean, rice is the only food and the best medicine.
The destruction of the rice, which seemed to him so
wantonly cruel, rankled in his mind, and appears to have
destroyed his power to communicate beneficially with
other minds. Instead, therefore, of making an exten-
sive and modest study of the vast and complicated sys-
tem by which the human race is supplied with the
necessaries of life, he retired within himself, went apart
from men and business, and came rapidly to the conclu-
sion, so congenial to cranks, that whatever is, is wrong.
He developed what we call Fourierism, or, as he termed
it with the modesty of his type of reformer, "a system
which will deliver the human race from civilized chaos."
Who has written more eloquently of the evils of the
world and the sufferings of mankind? He described
commerce as the art of buying for three francs a thing
worth six, and selling for six francs a thing worth three.
But the world has gone its way, and whatever improve-
ment has been made in the lot of mortals since Fourier's
time has been wrought by men not perhaps more benevo-
lent than he, but more modest, better informed, men
THE OREN COURT.
tx5
who, before attempting to serve our race, have put them-
selves humbly at school to its long experience.
We have among us at this time an uncommonly
gifted writer, a good citizen, a benevolent man, who
dining the forming period of his mind had opportuni-
ties to study closely three countries in which the people
were wrongly related to the land. This man is Henry
George, and those three countries were India, California
and Ireland. In California fifteen years ago, the huge
land grants of the Spanish proprietors made it extremely
difficult for men of moderate means to procure land
enough for a modest American farm, and this at a time
when the towns of California were overflowing with
adventurers, who had obeyed Horace Greeley's well-
known injunction, until they had reached the Pacific
ocean and there was no more West for the young man
to go to. Brooding over this state of things he came to
the conclusion that the land, like the air and the sea, be-
longs to all the people alike, and that private ownership
of land is wrong. The nation, he tells us, should own
the land and draw from it, and from it alone, all the
public revenue. As he stood at his printer's case he re-
flected perhaps too long and too exclusively upon the
scene around him, and upon the similar difficulties in
Ireland and India.
In his eloquent book upon Progress and Poverty,
he appears to me to have escaped a great and invaluable
truth, applicable to all property and to all countries,
which is that every right of man is a limited right, not
absolute^ and that a man must hold whatever he pos-
sesses in subordination to the welfare of the communitv
of which he is a part. But this precious truth is not
new. Every system of law and morals recognizes it.
With his gifted pen and benevolent mind he may yet
throw valuable light upon it, and suggest safe and just
ways in which the rights of individuals may be still fur-
ther subordinated to the interests of the public. Take
Henry George, however, for all in all, and we ma)
call him one of the most estimable and reasonable of
the reformers of our day. If he is now shut up in a
narrow theory, there was a time when he studied the
works of other economists. He may do so again.
The men who really help us to a better life and a
happier lot are tolerant, patient, modest and good-
natured. They may be students, like Newton, Ad.un
Smith and Darwin; legislators, like Cobden and Glad-
stone; statesmen, like Jefferson and Lincoln; warriors,
like Washington, Sherman and Grant; but they are all
patient, open to conviction and accessible to other minds;
well pleased if they can succeed in elucidating one
truth, or in mitigating ever so little the lot of man.
The great are all teachable. The}' never lose the power
of communicating with others.
One of the beneficial effects of the clubs and socie-
ties, now so common among us, is in making us
acquainted with other minds, and in subjecting our
favorite opinions to free comment and criticism. Free
and friendly intercourse with other minds, widely differ-
ent from our own, is the natural remedy for crankiness.
"Good-bye, Butterworth," cried Mr. Tvvigg, of Vir-
ginia, as the late House of Representatives was dispers-
ing on the 4th of March. Mr. Twigg is a democrat,
and was a secessionist; Mr. Butterworth is a republican
from Ohio. "Good-bye, Butterworth: I never thought
I could like a republican; but two years' experience
has liberalized me greatly, and I now have as many
republican friends as any man in the House."
The intelligent reporter who overheard this remark,
appended to it a comment which is worth repeating:
"What Mr. Twiggs said is true of every new man.
He comes to Washington a partisan" [possibly a crank]
"believing that all the good is in his own party and all
the bad in the other. Before he has served one session
he has learned to esteem his opponents quite as much
as his party friends. He serves on committees with
republicans and democrats alike. Before his term ex-
pires he realizes that human nature is — human nature,
no matter what its political convictions may be."
All of which confirms our principle that the source
of human wisdom is the whole of human experience in-
terpreted by the whole of human intelligence. To
afford access to this multitudinous sea is, I suppose, the
proper object of education, and the chief benefit of your
Open Court.
REASON AND PREDISPOSITION.
BV |OIIN BUKKOUGHS.
That most men in the formation of their opinions
are governed more by predisposition, or unconscious
bent and tendency, than by reason, is obvious enouo-b.
Indeed, reason is the faculty by which we seek to justify
the course of this deeper seated predetermining force or
bent. We gravitate naturally to this opinion or to that,
to conservatism or to radicalism, to realism or to ideal-
ism, and we seek for reasons that favor our course.
Considerations which are of great force with certain
types of mind are of little or no force with certain other
types. Reasons that confirm what we already believe
or want to believe, how forcible they are! But if they
point the other way how lightly we esteem them!
Thus, Ireiueus, the real founder of the Christian
canon, was led to believe there could he no more and no
fewer than four Gospels, because there were four uni-
versal winds and four quarters of the earth, and because
living creatures were quadriform. So Justin Martyr
argues that because Jesus blessed the juice of the grape
and said "this is my blood," he could have had no hu-
man parentage, but was the son of that God who made
the grape and the vine. This is giving a natural basis
to dogma in a quite unexpected way.
n6
THE OPEN COURT.
With most men reason is an advocate and not a
judge. It does not so much try the case as plead the
case. Unless we watch ourselves very closely, instead
of trying to see all things in their true light, we will
find ourselves trying to see only those things that favor
our view.
Reason is probably only a secondary faculty after
all; or more strictly, it is a faculty and not a determining
power. It is like the compass which the sailor takes to
sea with him and to which he constantly refers in keep-
ing his course, but which has nothing to do in determin-
ing that course. Every man goes his own way, and of
the agents that determine him in any given direction,
whether original bent, inherited traits, the influence of
his training, or of his environment, he is but dimly con-
scious; his reason is the conscious instrument by which
he tries to steer on his predetermined way.
Hence it is, that Cardinal Newman says, that in his
going over to Rome it was not logic that carried him
on; "as well might one say that the quicksilver in the
barometer changes the weather. It is the concrete
being that reasons; pass a number of years and I find
my mind in a new place; how? the whole man moves;
paper logic is but the record of it." The great Car-
dinal may have been logical after he once started for
Rome, but what made him drift that way ? It was be-
cause he was a born papist from the first; one can see
the stamp of Rome upon him in his youth.
Probably most of us come into possession of our
religious beliefs in the same way Newman did — we grow
into them; they are slowly and unconsciously built up
in our minds. We think we reason ourselves into them,
but we find ourselves in possession of them, and then
we seek to justify our course by an appeal to reason. In
our day religious opinion, or religious feeling, sets less
and less store by dogmas and creeds, and it is because,
as Newman suggests, there has been a change in the
weather. Yea, a change of climate. Natural knowl-
edge is in the ascendant. The sun of science has actu-
ally risen, indeed, rides high up in the heavens, and the
things proper to the twilight or half knowledge of a
few centuries ago, flee away, or are seen to be shadows
and illusions. The great mother Church may draw her
curtains, and re-trim her lamps and make believe it is
still night in the world, but those outside know better,
and those inside are bound to find it out by and by.
Newman is a careful reasoner, but what would satisfy
his mind will not satisfy all, because we are not all
going his way. What is a fair breeze to one may not
be a fair breeze to another. See how easily he accepts
the doctrine of transubstantiation: " Why should it not
be? What's to hinder it? What do I know of sub-
stance and matter? Just as much as the greatest philoso-
pher, and that is nothing at all!" Might not we reason
in the same way? Why should not Santa Claus come
down the chimney? What's to hinder? The chimney
is open at top and bottom, and has a definite capacity of
good, honest cubic inches. At the same time do not we
children of an older growth ask does Santa Claus come
down the chimney ? This author of the Grammar of
Assent, assents to the doctrine of the Immaculate
Conception on scarcely more tangible grounds, namely,
" because it so intimately harmonizes with that circle
of recognized dogmatic truths, into which it has been
recently received." The mind bent upon truth alone,
would be inclined to ask, " does it harmonize with the
rest of our knowledge of the world ? Does it agree with
what we know to be facts governing human propaga-
tion?"
The great Romanist reasons himself into the belief in
the infallibility of the Pope in about the same way. He
makes certain startling assumptions to set out with, —
supposing this and that to be true the infallibility of
the Pope naturally follows. " Supposing it to be the
will of the Creator to interfere in human affairs, and
to make provision for retaining in the world a knowl-
edge of Himself, so definite and distinct as to be proof
against the energy of human skepticism, in such a case, —
I am far from saying that there was no other way, — but
there is nothing to surprise the mind, if He should think
fit to introduce a power into the world, invested with
the prerogative of intallibilty in religious matters." But
has he introduced such a power; what is the proof of
the fact? Are the Christmas stockings filled by way
of the chimney? The fact Newman accepts and rea-
sons from it, or to it, as we see. His reason follows his
belief, never leads it. Any number of difficulties, intel-
lectual difficulties, he says does not make a doubt. Cer-
tainly not where experience attests the thing to be true.
But suppose it is contrary to all experience, contrary to
all the principles upon which human observation is
founded — how then?
Of course we are not always to reject a proposition
simply because we cannot understand it or penetrate it
with the light of reason. We do not know how or why
species vary, but we know they do vary. We do not un-
derstand the laws of heredity, but we know heredity to
be a fact, and so with thousands of other things. Do we
know transubstantiation to be a fact? There are difficul-
ties in the way of evolution, but these difficulties are not
such as violate nature, but such as indicate that nature
may have taken another course in the production of
species. The difficulties in the way of believing in the
efficacy of holy-water, or that the image of the Ma-
donna winked, or that Elisha made iron swim, are of
quite another sort; these assumptions contravene all the
rest of our knowledge.
Our theological doctors talk about the short range of
the unaided reason of man, and seek to show how reve-
lation comes to the aid of reason; as if the reason could
THE OPEN COURT.
117
be aided by anything but reason, by anything reason
does not approve of or comprehend. They mean, of
course, that the truths of revelation could not be reached
by the unaided reason. But are they truths? the reason
asks. Certainly reason could not lead a man to them,
and it requires something different from reason to hold
the man to them after he is there. To talk about aiding
the reason by a superior principle of knowledge, or a
superior method of verification, is like talking about
seeing around a corner, or on the other side of a stone
wall. The very principle you propose must itself be
approved by the reason. Microscopes and telescopes
aid the eye by multiplying and extending its powers in
its own direction; not by the addition of any new prin-
ciple of vision. In the same way the discovery of the
law of gravitation or the laws of Kepler, arms and ex-
tends the human reason, of which they are the fruit.
Power alone can use power, the eye alone can use the
telescope, not the hand or the ear.
THE RADICAL.
BY EDNAH D. CHENEY.
Having occasion to look over numbers of the Radi-
cal— published from about 1S65 to 1S72 — I was struck
with the force and ability disjjlayed in its pages, and led
to compare the movement which it represented with
that of the transcendentalists, about thirty years earlier,
whose organ was the now famous Dial.
The latter movement is now recognized as having
had great life-giving power, and its inspiration has
not yet lost its hold on many minds. It was full of
youth, freshness and beauty. It opened up broad ave-
nues of thought and life, and returned to the original
fountains of spiritual truth, instead of drinking of stag-
nant cisterns, no longer renewed by the pure rains of
heaven.
And yet as I read the pages of the Radical, I recog-
nized a real advance in the movement which it repre-
sented over that of the transcendentalists. No sharp
and definite line can be drawn between them, for both
were in the same direction and in many instances the
same minds took part in both; but still the comparison
is of interest.
No organization beyond a social club was attempted
by the transcendentalists, and the expression of individ-
ual thought was perfectly free and spontaneous. Yet
there is a general agreement in aim, and a similarity in
expression which gives a distinctive character to the
Dial. It is like a blossoming out of the Unitarian
faith into beauty and fragrance, foi it is full of the joy
of religion and of the value of aesthetic culture. It does
not, generally, deal with important moral questions
practically, but by appeals to the higher intuitions. It
is rather artistic than scientific.
The radical movement attempted organization in the
Free Religious Association, but it has hardly been an
nstrument of much work, or a very binding tie. Yet
it has had great value in giving this most expressive
name which binds together freedom and religion in a
true wedlock, instead of separating them as things
hostile or alien.
Most of the writers in the Radical base their specu-
lations less upon intuitions and more upon established
facts than the transcendentalists, and they do not shrink
from the keenest criticism of anything, however vener-
able, or the plainest words into which their thought can
be put.
To them, I think, we are largly indebted for the great-
est step in modern liberalism, which reached a position
outside of Christianity, from which it can be looked at in
fair comparison with other religions. This is such a
gain as astronomy made when Copernicus dared to
teach that the sun was not the center of the universe; it
alone made it possible to bring all the religious experi-
ence of humanity into harmony and order. Great
minds had certainly gone beyond the narrow limits of
their own faith and recognized truth in ancient and
modern religions. Emerson had already said: "Jesus
would absorb the world, but Tom Paine and every coarse
blasphemer helps us to resist Jesus." Theodore Parker
had planned his History of Religion, but even he had
said : " Silence the voice of Christianity and the world is
well-nigh dumb," and he contended stoutly for his
right to the name, which he held above every name.
But the new movement did not claim the name of
Christian. It took the altitude of every religious star,
not from its relation to Christianity but to eternal truth,
and freely opened its platform to representatives of
every form of worship.
So evidently was the time ripe for this step, and so
successful has it been, that what required courage to
profess in 1865 and '66 is now the fashion, and the rep-
resentatives of heathen religions, not converts to Chris-
tianity, (although generally shaming Christians by the
justice and liberality with which they revere the char-
acter of its founder), are welcomed to orthodox pulpits
and are courted in society. There is even danger that a
tide of Orientalism, with its fascinating speculation, may
sweep over us and carry away many useful landmarks
and guideboards which the human race has set up in
its onward march. It will not destroy the foundations
of the earth.
This movement for broadening the sympathies of
religious faith has had the powerful aid, without which
it could not have been successful, of the great freedom
of intercourse between distant nations, of the advance
in Oriental scholarship, and of the great scientific move-
ment which has put all thinking upon more exact and
stable basis.
The thinkers who expressed themselves in the Rad-
ical have done but small portion of this work, but they
n8
THE OPEN COURT.
have recognized its meaning and value, and applied it
in their own domain of religious thought. T. W. Hig-
ginson's Sympathy of Religions, William Henry Chan-
ning's lectures on Eastern religions, and Samuel John-
son's noble volumes on India, China and Persia, show
the power thus gained of looking at the past or present
history and thought of the human race; not from any
personal standpoint, but as related to the whole evolu-
tion of thought in history. It does not seem possible
that any enlightened class can ever again return to the
bigotry that looks upon all who are not born within the
shadow of the cross, as miserable heathen living
"where God was never known."
It is true we have yet Andover discussions, but they
only serve to show what a vital question this has become,
and that some, even of the missionaries, have learned that
they must understand and respect the piety of the people
to whom they are sent, and not shock their filial rever-
ence by offering them a heaven from which their
venerated ancestors are forever excluded.
So rapidly has the work which the Radical and the
Free Religious Association proposed to do, extended in
all directions, that we cannot trace it to its distinct
sources, nor say how large a part this or that agency
has had in bringing it about. Yet in looking over the
old monthly once so welcome a guest, I could not but
wish to acknowledge an indebtedness to it for sowing
broadcast the germs of much of the good which we are
reaping now.
The work which lies before us yet is less revolu-
tionary and exciting. It is the use of the freedom that
has been already gained, in the close application of great
truths to practical problems. We need more of close
study, severe thinking and careful experiment, before we
can claim that we have put theology upon a true scien-
tific basis and given it its true position as solving all
the great questions of human experience.
A SORELY TEMPTED GENERATION.
BY ALFRED H. I'KTERS.
During the last fifteen years there has been, through-
out the northern United States, a remarkable number of
criminal downfalls among business men. Petty officials,
public and private, have been constantly reported short
in their accounts, and "Behold a city for sale," has twice
been shown to be as true of the American metropolis, as
it was when the African prince declared the same of the
metropolis of ancient Rome. When, beside these dis-
closures, it has become necessary to reinforce the officers
of the law with a numerous body of private detectives;
when all kinds of mechanical contrivances are being re-
sorted to in place of conscience; when the cities of a bor-
der nation are filled with a permanent population of our
fugitive thieves, is there not reason for inquiry why it is
so much harder for men to be honest than it was a gen-
eration ago.
If, as certain later economists affirm, the degree of a
nation's civilization is determined by the number of its
wants, greater progress has been made toward that con-
dition during the last twenty-five years by our own than
during its whole previous existence. Not, indeed, intel-
lectually, or physically, so far as concerns human necessity,
does there appear to have any great change taken place.
People's stomachs hold no more, their backs are no
broader nor their brains heavier in the last quarter of the
nineteenth century than in the first. Of, however, cer-
tain sensual and emotional gratifications, whatever min-
isters to luxury and fastidiousness, or to vanity, curiosity,
or excitement, there does appear to have arisen during
this time a greatly increased desire.
While the general average of incomes has undergone
a considerable increase, that increase has in no wise kept
pace with the increase of wants, so that the question of
how to make both ends meet is, to the majority of
Americans, a more serious one than it has ever been be-
fore. Reasons exist for this changed social ideal, as well
as for the discrepancy between income and expenditure
which has been its result.
With the second half of the present century there
began, throughout the free States, a period of material
prosperity which, industrially and speculatively, offered,
for twenty years, an opportunity of enrichment to all
conditions of men such as the world has seldom seen.
The extension of steam transportation; the development
of manufactures; the discovery of gold in California, and
the bountiful product of the West, all together contrib-
uted to make the ten years between 1850 and 1S60 the
most remarkable wealth producing decade known in
our historv. The ten years following, notwithstanding
nearly half of them were noted for destruction of wealth
stimulated individual enterprise even more than the ten
years before.
Recognizing in the new order of things a great op-
portunity, and inheriting two centuries of thrift and
self-denial, the generation of men now passing away be-
came the most inveterate workers and accumulators that
any nation ever produced. Considering the capital upon
which they operated, their returns were much greater
than business returns at the present time. The founda-
tions of most of our colossal fortunes were laid by men
born twenty years before, or twenty years after, the be-
ginning of the century. To the men of that time it was
no great effort to withstand those allurements of sense
and of imagination which began to attend upon the
presence of fortune. They had reached middle life or
past it; their habits had been long formed, their pleasures,
outside of their business, were few and primitive, and
they could not have enjoyed anything else if they would.
The sense of possession could destroy in them but a
THE OPEN COURT.
119
small measure only of that spirit of abstinence in which
they had been bred.
Very different was the school in which were reared
their successors. The standard of subsistence had risen.
The luxuries of the fathers became the necessities of the
sons, who thus acquired manifold desires and a capacity
for entertainment heretofore undreamed of. Often receiv-
ing polite educations, their energies were distracted from
the main chance. Many were unfitted for industrial life
by the excitements of army service. Surrounded by an
atmosphere of prosperity, getting on in the world ap-
peared, to the men entering action between 1S60 and
1SS0, a very much easier matter than it had been to their
fathers. The American of to-day surpasses the Ameri-
can of thirty years ago in the ability to enjoy fortune, as
much as the other surpassed him in the ability to obtain
and preserve it.
To those influences which had already begun to
change our social and economical ideals, was added the
inflation of values caused by the unsecured paper cur-
rency issued by the national government in 1S61. Do
but consider the result. The apparent gradual increase
to double its former price of every commodity, save in-
terest-bearing securities, and an equal apparent increase
in the wages or fees of all professional or personal service.
At once began a period of unnatural business activity.
Everybody was consumed with a desire to buy and sell,
the result being a rush from all other occupations into
trade. Young men looked forward to but one career —
that of a business life. Town population grew apace;
that of the country stood still or went backward ;and the
government, to perpetuate the good times, forced its citi-
zens to make use of the high priced and inferior wares
produced at home by imposing a prohibitive tax upon
the better and lower priced articles manufactured abroad.
With the expansion of trade came the expansion of credit;
never before was borrowing so easy. A man could
open a place of business with a stock of goods bought
on time, hypothecate his merchandise to speculate at the
board of brokers, and sail a yacht or drive a fast horse
by payment of enough money to execute a mortgage
thereon.
Most demoralizing of all was the growth of a rampant
gambling spirit, and the making possible a means of so-
called speculation, which is not even worthy the name
of a game of chance. The lottery had been declared
unlawful because of its dissipating the earnings of the
people, but, in comparison with the game by which it
was succeeded, the lottery was legitimate business. Its
patrons risked only the price of a ticket, and it was win
or lose and done with till next time, but marginal specu-
lation is a constant fluctuation between profit and loss;
now baiting its votary with success, now drawing upon
his resources to preserve his holdings, a perpetual anxiety
and distraction from other occupations, with, final!)', the
same end as the lottery — only the managers obtain any
profit. Few, save its agents, are aware of the extent to
which people of every condition seek to increase their
incomes by this hazardous resource. Lawyers, clergy-
men, teachers, legislators, public officials great and small,
managers and subordinates of financial and industrial
organizations, artists, literary men, and even women and
children.
Thus began the "gilded age," the era of imitation,
of extravagant ornament, of valuing everything by its
money price, and of the idea that something was to be
had for nothing. Good taste and the eternal fitness of
things underwent as much degeneration as did judgment
and principle. Amid such influences is it any wonder
that prudence and moderation should, to the new gen-
eration, have ceased to be virtues ?
Finally the tide turned, and, by a lingerine process
of ebb and flood, prices shrunk back toward the point of
starting. When the reaction culminated in the collapse
of 1S73, thousands of men in the prime of life found
themselves with only nominal occupation, and as many
more, accustomed to dealing on their own account, sought
employment in some fiduciary capacity among the firms
and institutions surviving the wreck, or in those which
new capital began presently to organize. These men
had been educated in a school illy fitted to graduate can-
didates for positions of trust.
With the descendants of the old stock, now began to
compete in business the sons of those millions of immi-
grants who had settled here between 1S50 and 1S60.
These young men, early forced into the world on their
own account, had that greatest of all advantages in the
obtaining of fortune — no advantage at all. Not averse
to the mechanical trades, or to those coarser and more
independent occupations which had been deserted by the
sons of the native, many of them hoarded their earnings,
became capitalists and often directors and employers of
those by whom their fathers had been looked upon as
an inferior class. It is to be noticed that most of the
polite crime of the day is perpetrated by men bearing
colonial names. The sons of the foreigner began at the
foot of the ladder and worked their way up. The sons
of the native, beginning midway, or at the top, have too
often fallen headlong, or been slowly working their way
downward. There is, as a rule, no chance to which
men will not resort in order to maintain that position
they have been accustomed to hold among their fellows.
The monopolization of business by corporations or
great industrial firms offers more opportunity for dis-
honesty than when it is distributed among a larger num-
ber of active proprietors. An institution managed by a
board of directors, or by a private secretary and attorney,
is not like one conducted under the eye of a single master
who is familiar with its every detail as well as with the
personal habits of his associates. It is among the officers
120
THE OPEN COURT.
and accountants of manufacturing or banking enterprises
that half of this malfeasance happens, whose temptation
to hazardous ventures is often the example of their own
employers.
Our system of education has been the means of turn-
ino- many honest fellows into unsatisfactory members of
society. Patterned after the ideal of a feudal aristocracy
it is, indeed, admirably fitted to make men polite, white-
handed, and exclusive, but, unless they are to devote
themselves to teaching what they have themselves been
taught, it is, so far as concerns material provision, an ob-
stacle rather than an aid. What is called higher educa-
tion is a luxury, and too often, like every other luxury,
enervates men for the business of getting an honest liv-
ing. To educate, beyond his calibre, a boy who must
make his own way in the world is worse than not to
educate him at all. The extent to which over-refine-
ment weakens principle, reverses instinct and deadens
sympathy, is standing proof of the truth of Thoreau's
saying that "there may be an excess of cultivation, as of
everything else, until cultivation becomes pathetic." To
develop wants in a youth which it is probable he can
never gratify, is to add to his temptations, and is to
society a curse more often than otherwise.
A certain moral looseness, the legacy of these un-
settled years, yet fills the atmosphere of affairs. The
success of everyone is measured by material standards.
The best business man is he who obtains the largest
profit; the best professional man he who receives the
largest fee; the best politician he who keeps himself
most constantly in office. Society asks of a man not so
much concerning what he is, as concerning what he does.
Simple honesty, as a qualification for business position,
is less regarded than the rapid dispatch of work, the
pleasing of influential patrons, or the ability to influence
patronage by the applicant himself. Listen to a pair of
ancients asking after each other's children, and the in-
quiry is not whether they are honest, or wise, or brave,
or patient, or generous, but are they " making anything."
A well won fame, without accompanying fortune, is a
dangerous possession, so great is the temptation to make
business capital of it. The social standard has been
raised so high that men's energies must be devoted
almost wholly to the obtaining of a subsistence. The
burden of our politicians is of how rich we are, and of
how much more rich we shall be twenty years hence.
If honor among us has not been reduced to the FalstafF-
ian estimate, those positions in which it is the main wage
often go begging for fit occupants.
The ideal citizen of our republic needs a power of
adaptation and an integrity almost superhuman. He
must be, at the same time, a gentleman and a drudge; a
student and a man of business; accumulative as well as
public spirited; honest as well as enterprising. No labor
of the old demigods was equal to his. No medieval saint
had so many temptations to resist as he. The terms are
too hard for most of us in these alluring times. We set
out with high resolves, strive for a while, then rush
wherever circumstance impels us, and, as Emerson says:
"do what we must and call it by the best name."
Verily, men and brethren, if our offenses have been
great, our temptations have been also great.
The lives of most men are merely adaptations to the
spirit of their age. Our time has, beyond any other of
which we have record, developed a universal appetite
for whatever ministers to the pleasures of sense and the
pride of life. Men pray every day to be delivered from
temptation and rise from their knees to go immediately
in quest of it. We are like children spending their holi-
day pittance in a candy shop, anxious to have as many
of the goodies as possible and obliged, therefore, to be
content with a taste of each. But " this or that, not
this and that, is the rule to which all of us must submit."
We may possess nothing desirable without giving some-
thing of value in return. There is, however, this never
to be forgotten difference between a valuable quality and
a valuable material possession; we may obtain a rare
commodity, or the means of commanding it, by the effort
of others, but the effort which obtains a valuable quality
can never be any other than our own. We must pay
dear for every luxury, and dearest of all for the luxury
of being an honest man.
IS THE CHURCH WORTH SAVING?
BY LEWIS G. JANES.
The query, " Is the church worth saving ? " is so often
repeated, not only by those who are avowedly hostile to
the claims of supernatural religion and organized Chris-
tianity, but by many who still maintain a formal con-
nection with one or another of the Christian sects, that
it merits the thoughtful consideration of every liberal and
progressive thinker. It is urged, on the one hand, that
the method of the church is theological and unprogressive;
that it fails to grapple energetically with the living ques-
tions of the time; that it spends its force and capital
drawn from the hard earnings of the people in sustain-
ing "creeds outworn;" in prating about the affairs of
another world, instead of striving for the betterment and
salvation of man in this world. A thoughtful and candid
writer — Professor William Graham, of Queen's College,
Belfast, in his latest work, Tlie Social Problem, repeats
in even more emphatic language the indictment of the
Christian church which he presented some years ago in
his Creed of Science. "The old function, discharged
by our old spiritual guides," he says, " is palpably, in the
eyes of all thinking men, doomed; it is dying, unless it
can transform and readapt itself to the spiritual and
moral and social wants of the new time — a thing nearly
impossible, as history shows, and rather to be hoped for
than expected." The complaint of Emerson that we are
THE OPEN COURT.
121
« preached at" too much, receives the practical indorse-
ment of multitudes of our leaders in thought, of our
: scientists, philosophers and educators, who join the greater
multitude of the careless and indifferent in absenting
■themselves from all regular attendance upon the services
of the church. The fear of hell and the coercive power
of secular authority being removed, many withdraw all
: support from organized religious institutions, and many
more retain a connection with them which is purely con-
ventional and formal, conscious of a total want of sym-
pathy with the doctrine, ritual and service which they
countenance by their presence and pecuniary aid. "I
have no heart in it," said an intelligent young lawyer and
■ college graduate to me the other day. " I am not in-
structed or morally inspired by the sermons. I do not
believe the doctrine. It is all a bore. I am kept in the
• church simply by my family connections and associations.
;I attend service to avoid giving offense to my friends."
The enormous untaxed properties of the churches
.are a standing menace to the principle of religious liberty
on which our government was founded. The plea that
the church is a guardian of the peace of society, a con-
servator of public morals, which is urged in support of
• the exemption of religious properties from taxation, has
•very little force in the minds of thoughtful people. An
i Institution which requires this government " protection,"
•which admits itself a, pauper, and even joins in a shame-
; less scramble for a share of the public moneys for the
•support of its sectarian charities, does not stand in a posi-
• tion to become -a forceful teacher of righteousness — a
rebuker of wrong in high places — a defender of the
poor and oppressed against the power and wiles of the
■ oppressor. The morality of the pulpit is convention:'.'
and emasculated. It declaims against Mormonism in
'Utah, organizes societies to convert the Jews, launches
its thunderbolts occasionally against Agnosticism or the
j fatal errors of some rival sect, but touches the sins of its
■own pews with gloved hands, and fears to grapple with
• the pressing social evils of the time. Its newest gospel
: is two thousand years old. It speaks the language of a
; forgotten age. It leaves the heart out of the teaching
of Jesus, while it wrangles about the form of his doctrine
. and the " mint, anise and cumin" of ritual and phrase.
Such is the indictment, we may almost say the popu-
' lar indictment, against the church to-day in England i nd
America. Such, doubtless, is the feeling of a vast num-
ber of liberal and progressive thinkers, not all of whom
have had the courage of their opinions, it is true, but whoj
nevertheless, are at heart, in general agreement as to the
• character and utility of the ordinary pulpit teaching.
Many do not hesitate to avow that the clergy are "lost
• leaders," time-servers, pew-panderers; that the church, as
. an institution, has had its day, and should give way to
• other agencies for ethical instruction and social regenera-
i tion. In answer to this indictment, it is urged, even by
some who have no belief in the popular creeds, that the
church is nevertheless useful to society. It has a certain
value as a cement to the social organism. It keeps people
conventionally good. It creates a circle of public opinion
within the larger circles of society, which helps to hold
men to a formal allegiance to social law and order. It
is an aid to the police. Its fear of hell, so far as it is
still a vital belief, helps to make men do right. There
are many who, like the popular clergyman, would " have
their fling" if it were not for the dread uncertainty of
the after-life, and such as these are kept in order by the
church.
What shall the thoughtful student, anxious to con-
serve all that is good in present institutions, believing in
social evolution rather than in revolution, strenuous in
defense of public and personal morality, earnest in search
for a solution <>f the pressing problems of our time,
answer to this question, "Is the church worth saving?"
If it is to continue to follow the old conventional stand-
ards, I think he must answer that it is not worth saving:
that the sooner it gives place to the Ethical Society, or
to some other active and modernized agency for social
and individual improvement, the better. If the church
is to fight on under the old flags, organized religion will
become more and more organized hypocrisy. For the
Mrs. Partingtons of the pulpit cannot stay the tide of
modern, progressive thought; cannot turn back the ad-
vancing columns of scientific discovery, or break the
irresistible logic of rational philosophy based upon the
facts of experience. They cannot meet the cry of the
starving poor, the demand of the manual laborer for a
larger share of the product of his labor, the universal
aspiration of all thinking men and women for a higher
education and larger liberty, by an aptly quoted text of
"sacred Scripture," a doctrinal sermon, or the sensuous
sestheticism of sacred music and ritual The multitu-
dinous charities of the church — and I gladly recognize
their number and their value — cannot cover the greater
multitude of its sins against sincerity, reason, and the
noble striving to make pauperism impossible by remov-
ing its causes. It cannot atone for its neglect to educate
and help men for nobler living here, b< all its doubtful
information in regard to that unknown land beyond "the
bourne from whence no traveler returns." Nor can the
cowaid's plea that it is "safer " to yield a conventional
assent to the dogmas of the popular religion, long con-
tinue to hold manly men and womanly women to ihe
service and support of the church. The judgment of
the intelligent, independent thinker is sure, ultimately,
to become the judgment of the masses of the people.
This is a utilitarian age, but it is also an ideal age, seek-
ing ever for the highest uses of things; and the church
will be judged, and if need be condemned, by the stand-
ard of the higher utilities; — not by the question whether
or not it serves as a convenient adjunct to our police
122
THE OPKN COURT.
system. The church must be something better than a
coward's castle if it would escape the fate of becoming a
picturesque ruin at no very distant day.
Is there, then, no hope that the church, regenerating
itself, may again become a regenerator of mankind? I
believe that there is some hope that it will renew its use-
fulness, put on the garment of reason, learn to speak the
language of to-day, and render to man the service which
he demands in return for his allegiance and support. 1
find it in the pulpit utterances of such men as Phillips
Brooks, and llcber Newton, and Charles R. Baker and
Bishop Potter, in the Episcopal church; Minot J. Savage,
John W. Chadwick, William C. Gannett and others, in
the Unitarian church; Washington Gladden and Lyman
Abbott in the Congregational church, and others in dif-
ferent branches of the "Church Universal." I find it in
the growing tendency to rationalize the ancient creeds
by transforming them into the likeness of modern scien-
tific and philosophical thought, as was attempted by
Henry Ward Beecher in his latest discourses, and notably
at an earlier date by Minot J. Savage. I find it in the
increasing attention which the pulpit and religious press
are paying to the social problems of our time — to the
establishment of the kingdom of heaven on earth.
Pet us hope that these tendencies may continue —
that the church will prove itself worth saving, and be
saved to become the helper and savior of man. Myself
a firm believer in personal continuance, I would have
its waning hope renewed by a deepening consciousness
of the worth and beauty of our daily life — as it can never
be by futile appeals to Scripture texts, or the alleged
miracle of Jesus' resurrection. Fulness of life, in the
individual and in the social organism — this should be the
object of our striving, — the high goal of our ambition.
That the church may serve us in promoting this noble
end, let us hope that it also will be endowed with a
larger and fuller life — that it will take hold upon the
vital questions of the day, and treat them in the light of
the loftiest ethical ideals, — that it will assimilate the
teachings of modern science, and impart their practical
conclusions to the people, for the sanitary improvement
of society; — that the thoughts of the pulpit may become
more rational and hopeful and helpful, its teaching more
honest and sincere. Let us hope that the church edifice
will be honestly taxed, and opened not merely for two
or three hours on a single day of the week, but that
every day some helpful word of scientific, sociological or
religious truth may be spoken there, to which those who
most need and desire it may be freely invited. Let each
church have its library and reading-room open at certain
hours in every day and evening, its lecture-room for de-
bate and discussion, its parlors for social reunion. Let
it teach the gospel of science, the gospel of justice, the
gospel of honest dealing and fair play. Let it become
an arbitrator between the capitalist and the laborer, a
uniter of society into more fraternal relationships, a com-
mon ground on which the different social classes may
meet, amicably discuss and justly settle disputed questions-
Let it welcome honest thought and free discussion. So
doing, it will prove its right to be, and thoughtful men
and women will adjudge it worth the saving. To quote
again, and finally, from Professor Graham :
"As to the church, there is perhaps one chance left
for her, one course open, by accepting which she ifiight
* * * recover in large measure her hold on the lapsed
masses of labor, might even, for a considerable time yetv
discharge a real function required in our time in return,
for her pay. * * * Let her become the church of the
people; become a militant church, fighting the cause of
the poor, the needy and the oppressed; become what she
originally was in large part, and the tradition of which
she has never wholly lost. * * * Let her now take to
works, instead of expatiating on faith, its mysteries and
its efficacies, — to the work that Christ had at heart, and
all the true prophets had at heart — to hasten the king-
dom of heaven, to bring in the reign of righteousness,
which means and ever meant a regime of social justice,
in which the sovereign of whatever kind 'shall reign and
prosper, and execute judgment and righteousness on the
earth ! ' ' So doing, she may at least be worthy of salva-
tion, which is better, even, than "being saved."
REFORM PROBLEMS.
BY FELIX L. OSWALD.
It is not probable that the Bible of the future will
find much room for ghost-stories. A salvation-needing
world is losing its faith in post mortem Utopias, and
temporal existence has proved too evidently susceptible
of improvement to leave the dogma of renunciation a
chance to repress the incipient struggle for the recovery
of paradise on this side of the grave. Anil moreover,
the suspicion is gaining ground that the success of that
struggle has been retarded chiefly by the very doctrine
that promised to achieve the redemption of mankind by
diverting their attention from earth to ghost-land.
When the siege guns of Mohammed the Second were
battering the walls of Constantinople, the citizens are
said to have crowded the hall of a lyceum, where a.
couple of shrieking monks were threshing the wind of
theological controversies; and metaphysics of that sort
have unfortunately not been confined to the capital of
the Byzantine Empire. While the neglected fields of
our earth were fading from gardens into desert, we have
waged fierce wars for the enforcement of senseless
ceremonies and the interpretation of vapid rant about
the mysteries of Cloud-cukoo-town; hut the result of
that pursuit has finally opened the eyes of the spectre-
hunters. They have at last rediscovered the truth that
life can be made worth living, and the era of world-
renunciation will be followed by an era of world repairs.
THE OPEN COURT.
I23
In the evolution of ethics exigencies become duties;
and though many dogmas of the departing creed can be
traced only to the wants of the priesthood, several tenets
-of the coming religion can be safely predicted from the
secular needs of mankind. The moralists of the future,
in demonstrating the insanities of " other-worldliness,"
■could hardly choose a more striking instance than the
thousand years' blindness to the consequence of forest
destruction. The devastation of the woodlands which
once covered the Eastern continent from the Himalayas
to the Atlantic, has, in the literal sense, blighted our
■ earthly paradise by reduciug the habitable area of our
globe from four-fifths to less than two-thirds of the total
land surface; and there is no doubt that one-half of the
•devastated territory once constituted the most favored
region of this planet. Forest destruction has turned
garden into sand-wastes. It has turned mountain pas-
tures into naked rocks and choked the estuaries of
once navigable rivers with accumulations of detritus
and pestilential diluvium. It has caused the failure of
millions of springs, it has aggravated the severity of
summer droughts, and the destructiveness of winter
floods. It has depopulated the uplands of the Mediter-
ranean shore regions; it has made the lowlands depen-
dent on irrigation, and diminished the possibility of that
•expedient from year to year. In western Asia,
northern Africa and southern Europe an aggregate of
five million square miles has been wasted to the degree
-where the produce of tillage ceases to repay the toil of
the husbandman; and, considering the climatic extremes
of the Western continent, its bleak northlands and arid
central plateaux, it might seem doubtful if the discovery
of Columbus has even temporarily offset the results of
neglecting the Eastern garden-home of the human race.
The arable territory of the New World will soon be
taxed to its utmost capacity of productiveness, and before
the middle of the twentieth century the protection of the
remaining woodlands will for millions become a ques-
tion of self-protection. The forests of the uplands will
once more become sacred groves; philanthropists will
cover our worn-out fields with tree plantations, the cul-
ture of forest trees will claim a portion of the scientific
efforts now directed towards the invention of tree-
destroying machinery. Wars, even wars of rapine, will
probably continue to the end of time, but their havoc
■will be partly offset by the nobler struggle of recon-
quering land from the desert.
The long neglect of physical education will likewise
be retrieved by the dissemination of clearer views on the
conditions of earthly happiness. The idea that the soul
must, or can, be benefitted by the abasement of its
material medium, will rank next to the witch-craft
insanity as the most pernicious delusion of the Middle
Ages, and the pagan ideal of a sound mind in a sound
body will once more become the ideal of the civilized
world. The awakening of mankind from the fever-
dream of the monastic era, and the con-equent revival of
science and freedom, has, indeed, been defined as a " war
of insurrection against the anti-physical principle," and
that revolt will not long be confined to the formulation of
new theories and political constitutions. The civiliza-
tion of the future will build a gymnasium with every
school. Manly sports will no longer be held below the
dignity of a well-bred citizen, and even the adherents of
hyper-physical dogmas will admit that the possessor of
an immaterial soul cannot afford to neglect his material
self any more than an artisan can afford to neglect his
tools.
The temperance movement has already passed the
repressible stage. The knowledge that a man can be
defiled by things .that enter his mouth, has been bought
at a price which the world cannot afford to pay a second
time, and the opponents of spiritual and spirituous
poisons will soon work hand in hand. Nor is it likely
that the war upon the poison vice will be confined to
the proscription of the alcohol habit. " The historians
of a coming civilization," says a French sanitarian, will
probably hesilate to credit the moral cowardice of an
age that could submit to the outrages of the obtrusive
vice that poisons the life-air of public promenades and
pleasure resorts, — with the insolence of the Sclavonian
topers, mentioned by the traveler Busbequius, who saw
two citizens of Bucharest lay hold of a stranger, and by
actual violence, force him to partake of their nauseous
beverages. A public lung-poisoning tobacco smoker
will be suppressed more promptly than a self-poisoning
rum drinker, by just as much as an embezzler of public
funds is held more guilty than a self-damaging spend-
thrift." But that even the approximate suppression of
the alcohol-vice alone, would be an infinite blessing to
the cause of all other reforms is so certain that the objec-
tion on the score of an alleged infringement of personal
liberty can, by comparison, claim no weight of influence
whatever. The dram-drinker, it is true, acts of his own
free will, and cannot often charge the encompasser of
his ruin either with violence or the employment of
seductive false pretences, but the same argument would
license brothels and gambling-hells, and the manufac-
ture of obscene literature. The arguments of political
economy have already begun to preponderate on the
side of prohibition, and moreover, the permanent inter-
ests of public welfare will always be procured at the
temporary expense of fiscal emoluments. When the
salvation of mankind appeared to require the expulsion
of the Moorish infidels, the prospective loss of revei.ie
by the exile of the most industrious citizens did not pre-
vent the impecunious Spanish Government from issuing
the decree of banishment, and the ruinous foes of indus-
try will in vain plead the importance of a tax represent-
ing but a trifling percentage of the yearly drain upon the
I24
THE OPEN COURT.
lesources of rum-drinking nations. Judge Pitman is
probably right, that the Maine Law is destined to become
a main law of every civilized commonwealth.
But the victory of temperance need not be purchased
by the sacrifice of our recreation-days. The history of
asceticism has proved again and again that the suppres-
sion of harmless amusements is a direct cause of vicious
excesses; and total abstinence from intoxicating drinks
would be promoted, rather than prevented, by the free-
dom of all healthful recreations on the day when a large
plurality of our workingmen find their only chance of
leisure. The tyranny of our Puritan Sabbath is, indeed,
the ugliest survival of the age that blighted the sunshine
of life by the joy-hating dogmas of anti-naturalism, and
in the United States the disadvantages of promiscuous
immigration have been greatly compensated by the con-
tinuous influx of the representatives of civilizations that
have succeeded in emancipating themselves from the
curse of that tyranny. The law, making the wanton
disturbance of public worship a misdemeanor, should
certainly be enforced in favor of Buddhists and Hebrews,
as well as of the most fashionable Christian churches,
but the law of equity should likewise protect every dis-
senter in the right to pass his Sundays according to his
own predilection, in any way not violating either the
maxims of natural morals nor the equal piivilege of any
fellow-citizen. A community of Health-worshipers
would have an undoubted right to devote their leisure
day to outdoor exercises, conducted under the special
protection of the State; but their peculiar institution
would at once become rank tyranny if they should force
a Methodist guest of their commonwealth to suspend his
devotion and join in their foot-races; and for the same
reason a disciple of Nature has a right to demand the
abolition of a law raging with proscriptive penalties
against the visitors of a Sunday festival in the health-
giving highlands, or imprisoning ball-playing children,
in order to satisfy the clamors of a bigot who prefers to
pass bis Sundays in an atmosphere sickened with meet-
ing-house smells and nasal cant.
The revision of the prevalent theories on the proper
sphere of legislation will sooner or later be sure to re-
move the obstructions to the freedom of international
•commerce. The resisting power of established abuses
lias its limits, and nothing short of illimited obstinacy of
prejudice could in the long run resist the logic of the
arguments against the fallacy of legislative interference
with the natural laws of trade and industry. "The
proper significance of such problems," says Professor
Kessner, "becomes much clearer by divesting the con-
troversy of its veil of technical phrases. The logic of
political economy, applied to the problem of interna-
tional traffic, is simply this: The opponents of free
trade propose to increase the resources of national
wealth. In pursuit of that object they prevent brother
Hans from buying a cheap and good coat from foreigner-
Frank, thus compelling Hans to buy an ill made and
expensive coat from brother Tom. But what the nation
gains by Tom's profit is exactly balanced by Hans' los^.,
and the result of the experiment will amount to nothing
but the removal of money from our fob to our breed
pocket, if it were not for a third factor: The pay of the-
hired bullies, who have forced Hans to relinquish his;
hope of a private trade with Frank. By exactly the:
amount of that pay the net result of the transaction
leaves us poorer."
The fallacies of the Protectionists may in some re-
spects have encouraged the illusions of .Socialism and
the clamors for the continual interference of a paternal)
government; but considerations of health, as well as ofc
simple humanity, should certainly advocate the enforce-
ment of an Eight Hour Law, and a still more needed
law against the employment of young children in the'
soul and body stunting drudgery of factory work.
There is a story of an Arab chieftain who had been
half persuaded to prepare his tribe for the blessings of
modern civilization, when his mentor happened to enter
the workshop of a Marseilles cotton spinnery. At sight,
of the dust-clouded atmosphere and the crowd of pale
faced children tending the whirling spools the chief
stared and followed his guide in pensive silence. " Are-
those young criminals?" he inquired, when they left the:
building. " Oh, no," exclaimed the guide, " they are hon-
est boys, working for wages to assist their poor parents."
"Look here," said the Arab, pointing to the gilded dome
of a neighboring church, "if that were gold and you
offered us a treasure-pile of that size, the poorest man
of my tribe would refuse to sell his children into the
hell of such slavery." According to nearly concurrent:
estimates of British and German statistics, fiom eighteen
to twenty-two million young children of the industrial.
nations are at present inhaling the seeds of premature-
death in lead-works and textile factories, etc. "Our
poverty, but not our will consents;" but in a wholesome
state of social conditions poverty should excuse almost
anything sooner than an habitual sacrifice of health.
The most valid argument against the projects of
communism is perhaps the objection that the realization:
of such schemes would cripple enterprise by removing
the stimulus of personal interest, while on the other
hand a community of property would certainly remove
many grievous burdens of civilized life. Bakunin, the:
" Russian Miraheau," seems first to have devised a com-
bination of those advantages. Without any by-plans;-
against the tenure of personal property, he proposed to-
found communities on the plan of reserving sections of
public land for the benefit of each township, and thus
obviate the necessity of direct taxation, by letting the:
rent cover the entire budget of municipal expenses. As;
those expenses multiplied, the value of the reserve lots.
THE OPEN COURT.
I25
would increase in proportion, and could be advanced
even with the result of a surplus for charitable purposes,
by renewing the rent contracts from ten to ten years.
The plan seems an improvement on the confiscation
project by just as much as prevention is better than cure,
and will probably form the practical outcome of a re-
cent reform movement which has already ceased to imply
the menace of an agrarian revolt.
CONSCIOUSNESS.
BY E. P. POWELL.
There is no word so played fast and loose with as con-
sciousness. It is most often used to designate a super-sen-
• sual sort of knowledge ; a direct and necessary knowledge.
A man is conscious of certain facts, and that ends all pos-
sible discussion. Again, consciousness is used in a some-
what vague way to cover that immaterial element in
life which is not covered by matter and force. The
theistic or spiritualistic conception of oi-ganic life denies
that it is possible to exclude from the proposition " a
living' thing," the term consciousness. Cope says:
" Consciousness is an attribute of matter," and again,
" Consciousness is a condition of matter in some peculiar
state, and wherever that peculiar state of matter exists
consciousness will be found." Huxley asserts conscious-
ness to be "a function of the brain;" again, "Consci-
ousness is a function of matter;" again he says, "I un-
derstand the main tenet of materialism to be that there is
nothing in the universe but matter and force, and that all
the phenomena of nature are explicable by deduction
from the properties assignable to these two primitive fac-
tors. But all this I heartily disbelieve; it seems to me
pretty plain that there is a third thing in the universe,
to-wit, consciousness; which, in the hardness of my heart,
or head, I cannot see to be matter or force."
Sir William Hamilton says: "Consciousness is a
recognition by the mind of its acts and affections; the
self-affirmation that certain modifications are known by
me and are mine." This is a definition of self-conscious-
ness; a recognition of that group of phenomena called
self or ego. And it is no wonder that Hamilton adds,
" Consciousness cannot be defined." He does not —
neither does any other philosopher, apart from the evo-
lution school — fail to confuse himself with this word.
It required, first of all, that evolution should afford us
a history of life and its contents, before these contents
could be comprehended. Consciousness is an evolution
and, therefore, has a history. This Cope recognizes and
gets at the very pith of the matter when he sums up the
doctrines of consciousness thus:
" i. Consciousness independent of matter — Dualism.
" 2. Consciousness an attribute of matter— -Monism.
" 3. Consciousness (a), primitive and the cause of
evolution.
" 4. Consciousness (3), a product of the evolution of
matter and force."
Nevertheless he leaves a confusion in the word, al"
though he defines the thing so admirably. In his view
Monism (a), or No. 3, is the correct view of the uni-
verse; and consciousness does truly lie, as the very cause
and momentum of evolution. I have no doubt this is
the drift of true science and scientific metaphvsics — a
drift to be sharply defined in due time. All the more it
becomes necessary to place the word consciousness on
its historic basis; we shall then neither confuse ourselves
nor others with dualistic concepts.
In the first place we cannot escape going back to the
primordial conditions of life, cellular and pre-cellular,
to inquire once more as to the very nature of this some-
thing which Cope and Huxley and, I believe, our ablest
biologists altogether, agree is surely there. What is
there before evolution has altered or complicated it? We
may easily agree as to matter and force, although we
may be puzzled after all to tell what force and matter
are.
But as to the third factor, is it really consciousness, or
is it something from which consciousness is a derivative?
If we can agree to call the general faculty based on sen-
sation sentience we shall at least be philological ly cor-
rect, and logically. Con-sentience will, therefore, be the
state of comparative sentience; and consentience, or
consciousness, becomes defined as a comparative func-
tioning of primitive sentience; for it stands evident that
this sentience which we never can get below and back
of, however low down we go in our research, and which
is a quality of all living protoplasm, inseparable from
life, and is manifested at first in desire or hunger, soon
must become a comparative power. The amoeba eats
what it touches; but if the amceba does not manifest
choice of foods, creatures a little higher do. This in-
volves a comparison of sensations and in its nature is no
longer simple sentience, but con-sentience, or con-scious-
ness. And it will not hurt our grapple with the word
that we can now use it in the philological sense; that is,
to know things together, or in a group.
Consciousness, then, is a higher condition of sen-
tience; and as such it extends in higher degrees of man-
ifestation, through all the evolution of organic being. In
man, and nowhere but in man, the subject becomes also
object, and consciousness becomes self-consciousness.
The animal knows, but does not know himself, neither
abstract being. In other words, the dog knows, but
does not know that it is himself that knows. I think
the same may be equally averred of the primitive
anthropoid, and as well also of the lower savage
races. Certainly self-consciousness belongs to no crea-
ture before man. By cosmical research man, enlight-
ened, reaches the ideas infinite and eternal ; and his con-
sciousness becomes an apprehension of eternal and infi-
nite being, or, to retain the word with which we began,
he is conscious of self-higher-than-himself.
I2D
THE OPEN COURT.
Let us go back and follow the idea analytically. Sen-
tience is a necessary and direct knowledge or apprehen-
sion of not-self bv the mode of sensation. Conscious-
ness is comparative knowledge of things constituting en-
vironment. Self-consciousness is comparative knowl-
edge that becomes so largely synthetic that it not
only groups our sensations in comparison, but groups
that and those which constitute self as distinct from non-
self. Consciousness of self-higher-thau-ourselves is the
rising power to group all phenomena of not-self into a
unity in its relation to our-self. This is the end of evolu-
tion of sentience; for it has grappled with eternal and
necessary self.
But what then is the unconscious? It is even more
important that we should have a clear apprehension of
this term; for no one can fail to see that " the philoso-
phy of the unconscious " of Hartmann and the use of
the word by others, is largely confusing. Unconscious-
ness is clearly that state of consciousness which arises
when functioning in any direction becomes automatic, or
instinctive. Our hearts beat and our nutrition goes on
without our conscious attention; although nutrition in
lower life and the functioning of the heart are highly con-
scious operations under the direct control of the will.
Nature, having perfected any function, pays no more
conscious attention to it, and it becomes henceforth an
unconscious functioning. The bee and ant are almost
entirely automatons, yet with a trace of consciousness.
As the vegetable kingdom and the animal originated
from a common sentient life, it follows that the vege-
table kingdom must be considered as a wholly automatic
or lapsed order of life-processes. It has wholly passed
over to the unconscious.
Now this unconsciousness is wholly different, as one
can see, from the pre-consciousness which is the state of
tfie universe before or preceding organic life. Uncon-
sciousness is that state of consciousness which exists
when tentative action has become fixed and established
action — when functioning has become automatic. The
evident tendency of all conscious action is thus to pass on
to organic rhythm. Our intellectual and moral choices, in
like manner, tend toward habits that no longer require
choice or will, and so lose the quality moral or intellec-
tual. The love that a mother bears for her babe is a
matter of instinct and not of morals; whereas the love
that is exercised by a philanthropist for the oppressed
and despised may require a very high degree of con-
scious will. The mother is conscious that she loves, but
is not conscious of any process of choosing to love.
Herbert Spencer points to the time when all moral
power will be exercised without choice between good
and evil ; but the good man will do the good because it
is his nature to do it.
However, I have no desire to discuss the unconscious
farther than to make my definition clear. Sentience 1
would make the primordial elementary quality; — that
something besides matter and force, which Huxley
declares he cannot escape. This becomes, in complex
life functioning, a complex and yet ever present con-
stitutive element. Whatever its evolution, or the
evolution of matter and force, these three are essential to
the idea organic life. They are fundamental qualities,
and therefore belong to, and are inherent in, the universe.
It must be borne in mind that the organic universe is by
no means a derivative of the inorganic any more than
the animal kingdom is an evolution of the vegetable.
The two kingdoms, animal and vegetable, are diverging
processes of a precedent life, that was neither one nor.
the other. So organic and inorganic are diverging, and
yet mutually interactive processes of the universe. The
inorganic does not contain sentience, the organic does.
You cannot get out*of the inorganic what it has not.
The death of an organism is a passage of by no means
the whole being into the inorganic. It is a 3'ielding of
only those parts that are constitutive in the inorganic.
What becomes of sentience, consciousness or self-con-
sciousness? This opens the question of all questions
most fascinating and important, and must be discussed,
if at all, in a succeeding article. My object for the
present is attained, by aiding to establish some degree of
accuracy in the use of terms, which are often used
recklessly, and, for valuable results, used in vain. The
historical view of consciousness may be tabulated for
convenience thus:
Presentience — The attribute of the universe.
Sentience — The attribute of living substance.
Consciousness — The result of choice in sentient
beings.
Self-consciousness — A conscious synthesis of that
which makes up ego.
Consciousness of self-higher-than-ourselves; — A
conscious synthesis of all that which is not self, an
infinite.
CHATS WITH A CHIMPANZEE.
BY MONCURE D. CONWAY.
Part II.
In the interview about to be reported I do not aspire
to overmuch realism. To describe the processes, whether
phonetic, facial or other, through which my anthropoid
friend and I interchanged ideas might divert attention
from the ideas themselves. I do not wish to raise a host
of wrangling philologers, skeptics, commentators, to
dispute whether I did or did not mistake the Chimpan-
zee's meaning, or whether he meant this or that. What
I gathered from the interview, not how it was gathered,
it will be my aim to state.
" A large number of curious visitors have come to
our temple," said the Chimpanzee; "they have amused
themselves by watching us as we ate their sweetmeats,
and looked on us as nature's jokes; but I have been
THE OPEN COURT.
127
interested by observing in you a certain respect, as if
you were not merely condescending to notice your in-
feriors."
" To respect, add admiration," I said. " I have long-
ago found the truth of what a wise German, Oersted,
said, that monkeys appear grotesque or ugly to mankind
only because generally seen out of their place, tricked
out bv showmen, away from their right environment.
Thev are beautiful in their place. I have seen them at
play in the luxuriant woods, making the forest animate
with their graceful swinging from limb to limb; nothing
more fascinating have I ever seen. To-day I have been
surprised to find that your race can be no less charming
amid walls reared bv the hand of man."
" The walls being partly adopted and retouched by
nature, the blue sky bending over us; and, possibly, be-
cause our contrast with these ash-smeared devotees is
not so favorable to them as if we were displayed among
merry and well-dressed human companies."
" Perhaps."
" But I must now add another thing. We who in-
habit this temple are not ordinary monkeys. There
are two kinds of monkeys — arrested monkeys and rever-
sionary monkeys. Have you heard of a man named
Haeckel?"
" I am just reading his account of a sojourn in
Ceylon and India."
"Recently while he was here, I heard the priest you
saw just now and another conversing about a murder he
committed — so they called his shooting a monkey for
his museum. From what they said I think it must
have been (though they knew nothing of that) not only
a reversionary monkey, but a transitional one — like my-
self— what he may have supposed a " missing link," but
really one from which, had he approached it with sweet-
meat communion instead of a gun, he might have
learned more about evolution than he will get from a
million dissected or stuffed anthropoids. But he was
only a man, and knew not what he did."
" Tell me, I pray you, the difference between the ar-
rested and the reversionary ape?"
" The fruit of knowledge grows in the vale of hu-
mility. You are willing to sit at my feet though you
must know that your form is more erect, your flesh
fairer, your powers more various than mine. But look
over to that farthest court, and tell me what you see?"
" I see six haggard men, nake*d, smeared with ashes,
sitting motionless before six smoking logs of wood.
I see near them on the ground two ash-covered human
heads, belonging to bodies buried to the neck. I see a
man before the altar of a horrible image holding a pretty
little kid's neck under a blade — it falls! The blood spurts!
It is sickening."
"Now look around you in this court — what do you
see?"
" A group of monkeys al play, others slumbering in
the sunshine, others quietly seated together, or caressing
each other; and all surrounded by beautifully carved
symbols of nature and poetic legends."
" If you were compelled to choose which you would
be, permanently, nol with a view to change or reform,
but for life — one of those half-buried, butchering or for-
ever motionless fakirs — or one of those merry monkeys?"
" I should unhesitatingly choose the monkey's lot."
" Then you would be an example of reversion.
That is what we are — reversionary monkeys. We are
descended from a race of philosophers, who, having
climbed to be men found their lot intolerable and deliber-
ately developed themselves, not into the original type,
but into a similar one which should avoid certain disad-
vantages of the arrested form — the monkey that never
was (and now never can be) man."
" How stupid I am! Only this morning, examining
certain repulsive idols and meditating on the rites wit-
nessed around them, I thought it a happy discovery, and
meant to suggest it to Haeckel, that all this ' religion '
originated with monkeys. And now I find that mon-
keys are the dissenters who renounced such inhuman
humanity."
"Do not credit our race with martyrdom. It was all
the work of evolution, though not by natural selection.
It was by human selection. It is much more comfort-
able to be worshipped than to worship, to be sacrificed
to than to sacrifice."
" Will you please tell me more of this great odyssey,
this pilgrimage of your race to humanity, and to — what
shall I say? a plane beyond or below it?"
" That depends on your standard of high and low.
Have you ever changed your faith? "
"Yes; I was once a Methodist; then a Unitarian
Christian; then a "
" That will do for my purpose. When you were a
Methodist your god was the stream of tendency that
makes for Methodism ; whatever helped that was good
and fair; your ideal was a world converted to Method-
ism. That faith abandoned, your divine stream makes
against Methodism ; a Methodist world were the reverse
of ideal. So with your discredited Unitarianism. So
long as the human form is your standard of perfection
you cannot have any other ideal.
" I confess it appears to me scientifically demonstrable
that the human is the supreme form."
" So, it seems, you once thought Methodism among
forms of religion. I have already admitted the superi-
ority of the human powers. But superior for what?
Is the purpose for which each creature's best has been
selected and combined in one form a good or a bad one?
If it be a contrivance for misery, then like the next most
perfect combination in nature, the serpent, the evil is
commensurate with the perfection. Take another look
128
THE OPEN COURT.
at our fakirs over there, and see what they are empow-
ered to do with their admirable joints, hands and senses.
We monkeys of the temple have powers adapted to
happiness and harmlessness in our friendly community;
we have not imagination enough to see the supernatural
terrors which paralyze those poor men; our hands are
not skillful enough to kill kids. As for beauty, that is
relative; handsome is as handsome does. To one starv-
ing an oyster is lovlier than its pearl. Our morphologi-
cal inferiorities correspond with advantages. Our resem-
blance to men suggests to them that we are their
shrunken ancestor?, and they serve us. Our silence pre-
vents their discovery of our ignorance. We belong' to
their adorable realm of mystery. Thus they become
our liveried ministers, while gaining support by that
service — the humanest, in your sense, in Benares.
Freed from the struggle for existence, we can fraternize-
We toil not, nor spin, yet we are fed and clothed. We
are not anxious for the morrow. We are not ambitious
to get ahead of one another. There is more than
enough sunshine and sweetmeats for all. None have to
regret our existence."
"But you die like men? You must grieve for loss
of your children, your wives, your friends?"
" Your remark touches an important matter. Let
me explain what I meant just now by describing myself
as a transitional monkey. I have not yet been able to
evolve so far as those around me. Of all here I alone
still bear some lingering burdens of humanity. I have,
fur instance, this power to converse. It is my loss and
your gain. The dwellers in this court escape the sting
of death, which is apprehension. They have no tortur-
ing consciousness of its approach, still less any horror,
hereditary or other, of dangers beyond it. In the ab-
sence of strife, of wakeful ambition, of envy, of asceti-
cism, of conventional morals hostile to nature, we never
know disease; we never die but once. When one dies
of old age the regret of survivors is not agony. As
proof I may say that though, individually, I am a link
between these and humanity, my hope and aspiration
lie in their direction, not in that of these care-ridden, ter-
rorized people of Benares. Of your own foreign race
I cannot speak. Your people, perhaps, are free from
fear, from competition, from anxiety about the future or
sleepless speculation about the unknowable. To me
have been transmitted traditions of such torments which
led our ancestors to undertake their journey to Nir-
vana."
" I cannot say that my distant people are free from
such pains, fears, speculations. But you speak of Nir-
vana; that is the goal to which Buddha pointed the
■way."
" It is. It was while listening to him in the Deer
Park over there that our ancestors resolved to seek Nir-
vana. That, they found, involved escape from the
human consciousness — that is, perpetual morbid intro-
spection of a selfhood made up of fictitious conceptions.
What Buddha revealed to those who heeded, was that
they lived, moved, had their being, in a fictitious uni-
verse; they were organisms created by phantasms incar-
nate in priestcraft, made potent by superstition; their
consciousness was of virtues that were sins, and of sins
that were virtues. Non-existent gods shed desolating
forces; marriage, industry, birth, endlessly accumulated
a chaos and called it order. This chaos, reflected in
every mind and heart, made that torture-rack called
consciousness. Because phantasmal gods had made ex-
istence a hell, the blessed Buddha cried, ' Escape from
existence; enter into Nirvana!' This obviously could
not be done by suicide; for there would necessarily be a
survival of the non-suicidal. Nature, indifferent to the
sufferings of men, is resolved that their race shall con-
tinue. But our philosophic fathers saw that the great
evil was this diseased consciousness. Of that the)' — in
their time and place — could only be rid by laying aside,,
bit by bit, the mechanism of consciousness — the so ex-
quisitely contrived engine of torture — and their artistic
evolution through 2,500 years marks the distance be-
tween 3'on naked fakirs killing kids, burying their
bodies, or paralyzing them by disuse, and those merry
monkeys dancing amid the flowers."
Just here the Brahman appeared, and bowed low to
the ground. 1 understood; and exchanging with my
Chimpanzee an engagement for the morrow — quite in-
audibly to the priest — took my departure.
The Chicago Society for Ethical Culture held its an-
nual meeting on Friday night last, and encouraging re-
ports were made of the Society's progress. Had there
been no deficit at the beginning of the year, the society
would have been able to meet its entire current expenses
and have a balance of $170 in the treasury. Compara-
tive statements were made showing the growth of the
society in numbers and financial resources from the be-
ginning, which was a little over four years ago. Espec-
ially gratifying was the report of the publication com-
mittee, showing a wide and large demand from all parts
of the country for the published lectures. Another
woman was added to the Board of Trustees, in addition
to the two elected a year ago. The meeting was held
in the .Society's cozy rooms at 45 Randolph street, and
there was a gratifying attendance. The next number
of The Open Court will contain some account of the
celebration of the fourth anniversary of the Society,
which occurred on Sunday last. Mr. Salter and his
supporters are doing a noble work worthy of all encour-
agement.
"Herbert .Spencer as a Thinker" will be the subject
of an article by Prof. Richard A. Proctor in the next
issue of The Open Court.
THE OPEN COURT.
I-';
The Open Court.
A Fortnightly Journal.
Published every other Thursday at i6g to 175 La Salle Street (Nixon
Building*, corner Monroe Street, by
THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY
B. K. UNDERWOOD,
Editor and Manager.
SARA A. UNDERWOOD,
Associate Editor.
The leading object of The Open Court is to continue
the work of The Index, that is, to establish religion on the
basis of Science and in connection therewith it will present the
Monistic philosophy. The founder of this journal believes this
will furnish 'to others what it has to him, a religion which
embraces all that is true and good in the religion that was taught
in childhood to them and him.
Editorially, Monism and Agnosticism, so variously defined,
will be treated not as antagonistic systems, but as positive and
negative aspects of the one and only rational scientific philosophy,
which, the editors hold, includes elements of truth common to
all religions, without implying either the validity of theological
assumption, or anv limitations of possible knowledge, except such
as the conditions of human thought impose.
The Open Court, while advocating morals and rational
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ests of mankind.
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THURSDAY, APRIL 14, 1887.
VICIOUS JOURNALISM.
In one of his recent poems, "Fust and his Friends,"
Browning represents the discoverer of the art of print-
ing, as at first exultantly crying anent that discovery:
" Go, run
Thy race now, Fust's child! High, O printing, and holy
Thy mission! "
But anon, makes him doubtfully question:
" Han' I brought Man advantage, or hatched — so to speak — a
Strange serpent, no cygnet ? ' Tis this I debate."
And again:
"Through me does print furnish truth wings? The same aids
Cause falsehood to range just as widely. What raids
On a region undreamed of, does printing enable
Truth's foe to effect! Printed leases and lies
May speed to the world's farthest corner — gross fable
No less than pure fact — to impede, neutralize,
Abolish God's gift and man's gain!"
No words can too highly overrate the mission of
Fust's great discovery. " The art preservative of all
arts" remains still one of man's most splendid acheive-
jjients, the key to all knowledge and all good. And of
the many knowledge-spreading methods to which the.
art has given birth none is more effective, none is more-.
formidable than modern journalism, which is a genuine:
"Lucifer" in that word's double signification of "light
bearer," and the spirit of evil.
The journalistic press is already — though it should
be so in much larger measure — a powerful influence in
the education of the people. It is more powerful in
this direction than all the schools and colleges in the.
land, since it reaches and teaches those who know little
of schools and colleges, those who have no other means
of education, and to whom the shibboleth "the papers
say so" is the infallible and incontrovertable dictum of
their "consensus of the competent." It creates an
interest in science among those who can learn of it from
no other source; it spreads abroad the differing opinions
of the world's thinkers, and awakens new thought in
inquisitive minds; it sows broad-cast the winnowed
seed-thoughts of great minds in such generous ways as
must bring promise and fulfillment of harvest in brain
fields that were elsewise barren. It disseminates widely
the stories of individual sorrow and joy, grief and
gladness, and so preaches forcibly the brotherhood of.
man, and appeals to the otherwise untouched common
sympathies of humanity; it gives to even the most
highly educated, new impetus to further acquisition of"
knowledge by heralding the endowments, the discov-
eries and inventions of far away brother thinkers; and
its power as a teacher of men is enhanced by its own
impersonality, since it can speak to men's consciences
without arousing that tit quoqiic sense of resentment or
angry dissent which would be felt towards an individual..
Such is the true mission and work of journalism outside
its other wide work of a business and commercial
advertiser and agent, and investigator of crime.
But none whose business or inclination leads them
to acquaintance with the general news departments of a
large number of the daily papers of to-day can fail to
be impressed with another side of journalism, or can
help noting the average low moral tone of the daily
press — its trivial treatment of great questions; its levity
in dealing with grave issues; its questionablj political
methods; its panderings to popular ignorance and
prejudice; its encouragement of the evil passions and
baser attributes of man's nature; its wilful misrepre-
sentations of facts; its villification of the characters of
those who oppose its measures; its inquisitorial prying
into private affairs which in no way concern the public,
welfare; its belittlement of modest viitue and its homage
to successful vice. All this we can only consider as;
vicious journalism.
That it is often necessary in the interest of law...
order, morality and the public good to record the details
of crime, its detection and punishment, we concede:
but when no public interest is subserved, no necessary.
i3o
THE OPEN COURT.
moral pointed, no real knowledge to be gained, no
earnest warning given in what is offered as sensational
news to its patrons by any journal, it would be in the
interests of morality if such news were withheld.
For instances of such vicious journalism we have
not far to look. Before us lies a pile of recent clip-
pings from some of the most reputable journals of the
day. The limits of this article will not permit reference
to a tithe of these, and these are only a sample of
columns of such matter which finds its way into promi-
nent place as news of general interest in leading papers;
hut to enforce our meaning we give the ''"ist of a few
of these. A dispatch from New York, March 20,
gives the name and place of residence of a wealthy lady
of unsound mind who wrote a foolish love-letter to a
public functionary, and, the dispatch states, "as the
story was printed in the papers'1 a rascally fellow made
it the basis of a blackmailing scheme for which he was
arrested, whereupon "he confessed that upon reading
the story in the papers he thought there was a chance
"to make a hundred' and he succeeded." Since there
was nothing of interest to the public in the fact of the
poor demented creature's writing such a letter, it ought
not to have been published in the first place, and
secondly, the publication of the sequel, the arrest of the
blackmailer, was but a further hint and suggestion to the
criminally disposed. Another New York dispatch a
day later explains that the reported suicide of the son
of a prominent man was untrue, and was based upon a
slight accident which occurred to a worthy youn«- man
-while hunting, so affixing in the minds of those who
did not see the correction, a vile stain on a reputable
family name. A few days later appears with startling
head-lines the details of a foolish or insane freak on the
part of the son of a New York official, a freak which
would have resulted in harm only to the man's reputa-
tion for sanity among those who witnessed it, but which
-published, did do incalculable harm in the shame
•experienced by his respectable relatives, and hurting
the man's own future where he would otherwise be
unknown. At a recent trial one of the lawyers in the
•case is represented as feeling deeply the references made
in regard to him by a popular city paper, angrily
remarking: " That dirty, filthy sheet yesterday reviled
:and insulted me by the publication of a lot of vile cari-
catures. And for what? Only because I had been
< loing my duty before God to my client. A friend said
t:o me this morning: 'Why don't you shoot that
— ? Why don't you horsewhip him?' Gentlemen,
wait. The day will come when I will meet him face to
Jface, and when I do meet him let him beware." So of
Kuch vicious journalism crime and further wrong-doing
may yet result.
A letter to the Boston Advertiser complains bitterly
of that paper for having "its columns defiled with an
extract from the Record commenting on the personal
appearance of some of the unhappy inmates of the State
prison, and describing their occupation and their bearing.
I do not speak of the shame and sorrow that such an
article must inflict upon those by whom some of the
prisoners mentioned are known and loved, for I suppose
that anyone who could write such an article would an-
swer that 'journalism is no respecter of persons.' But
I wish to protest, as a constant reader, against such
' news.' It can do no good, and can have no attraction
save for those who love to gloat over the miseries of
others."
One fails to understand what possible good can be
done, while seeing quite clearly the suggestions of evil
which may be conveyed to unbalanced or to scheming
minds bv the large space so often given in our newspa-
pers to the marital woes and mistakes of erratic and
morally undisciplined people, — such, for instance, as the
cases of Bishop, the mind-reader, and that young artist
heiress, who married one adventurer after a few days'
courtship only to leave him to run off with another a
short time later. If these had been kept from the pub-
lic, far less harm would have resulted to the parties
themselves, and the families to which they belong would
have suffered less annoying notoriety. It is not really
necessary for public well-being that all the disgusting
details of divorce suits should be given at length in pa-
pers which are to enter pure homes to be read by inno-
cent girls and youth whose parents wish to keep them
clean minded. No less disgusting to people of refined
or humane tastes are the sickening and brutalizing re-
ports of "prize fights,"" pugilistic encounters," etc.,
which so frequently mar the columns of journals which
enter thousands of refined family circles.
The other day a young woman, a mother, and the
wife of a respectable and worthy man, was arrested for
apparent drunkenness, but on inquiry it was found that
she was a victim of the chloral habit, contracted by first
taking the drug to relieve pain. She was not vicious;
she was young and weak, and in need of strong, loving
hands to uphold her and save her. There was not the
slightest need for her story to get into the papers, yet
there it was, with her name and address and those of her
husband given, — a barrier thrown up by vicious journal-
ism in the way of reform, hope and happiness. When
any human being, from any cause, is driven to attempt
suicide, we may be sure that he is in desperate straits,
and that if prevented from finding ease from his pain in
death, he is in no condition to bear the further strain of
public pillory by having his case, with his name and ad-
dress, in all the papers for everyone who had known
him in happier days to exclaim and wonder over. Can
any good result from placing the child of tender years,
a transgressor, perhaps, from hereditary proclivities, or
from evil teaching, under life-long ban by giving its
THE OPEN COURT.
131
name and the particulars of its case in the journals of
the day? It is enough that the police judge decides and
the police records show whether the arrest was neces-
sary or not, but if once printed, how easy it will be in
after years for some enemy to hunt up this record and to
mar the honest effort to earn a living or to achieve
rightly earned success.
It may be urged that there is an unmistakable de-
mand for such news (?), a demand which even reputable
journals have to regard or be driven to the wall by their
less conscientious rivals in the newspaper world; and a
demand which, as impartial caterers to a varied public
appetite, they are in justice bound measurably to supply,
since they do not undertake or profess to create public
taste, but only to prepare the intellectual food demanded
in as appetizing a manner as possible.
So, too, there is a decided demand for the kind of
literature which poisons and pollutes, which encourages
mature vice and corrupts youth; a literature which our
law-makers recognize as so vicious in its influence on
the lower nature of man that its sale is forbidden by-
statute, and heavy penalties incurred by those who dis-
tribute it. Yet the demand for it is so urgent that un-
principled and avaricious men risk the legal punishment
its sale involves, as well as the contempt of the moral
part of the community in order to make money in sup-
plying this demand. Do our reputable journals then
mean to intimate that there is only the difference be-
tween these men and themselves that a wholesome fear
of the law creates? s. A. u.
GENUINE VS. SPURIOUS CULTURE.
There is a growing distrust as to the value of much
that passes under the name of "culture." This may be
explained in part by the unpractical and dilettanteish
character and undemocratic spirit of a great deal of the
so-called culture of the age which, lacking in robust in-
tellectual qualities, without any noble moral purpose,
and inspired by no lofty enthusiasm, serves only to
widen the gulf between its disciples and the masses, in-
creasing, on the one side, contempt for the "great un-
washed" pursuing their prosaic avocations, and exciting,
on the other side, aversion to a mere intellectualism
which ignores the hard facts of life, is indifferent to the
condition of the millions, and concerns itself almost
wholly with mere liteiary questions which have but a
remote bearing on the practical questions of the hour.
But it is a great mistake to confound this pseudo-
culture with genuine culture, which is catholic in
thought, earnest in tone, and progressive in spirit; and
any standard that does not involve a distinction between
them is false and pernicious. There is no culture worthy
of the name which does not include with the acquisi-
tion of knowledge, development of the moral nature,
strengthening of the love of right and hatred of
wrong. A man who has simply a knowledge of books,
which he regards as of more importance to him than the
things of which they treat; who has never penetrated
behind the books and come in contact with nature her-
self, with the world and its events, with man and his
relations; who possesses merely the instruments of
knowledge, without the capacity to use them wisely;.
who can only repeat what he has read, and makes au-
thority serve in the place of evidence; who can tell all
about the siege of Troy, but feels no interest in the
great issues of to-day; who can construct elegant sen-
tences without giving a valuable thought or suggestion
to the world ; whose interest in his race is simply of a
sentimental kind, animated by no moral principle or
philanthropic feeling — such a man is not, properly
speaking, an educated man.
Man's most important education he gets daily through
eye and ear and touch in that great university, the world,
in which we are all students. Some are more richly
endowed or have bet'er opportunities, and iearn more
readily than others. The results of thousands of gener-
ations of observation and study are condensed in lan-
guages, governments, religions, moral codes, literatures,
and the intuitions of the race. Now, the object of what
is commonly called education is to acquaint the child or
student with these results in order to enable it to under-
stand nature's methods; or, as Huxley says, "to prepare
the child to receive nature's education, neither incapably
nor ignorantly nor with wilful disobedience, and to un-
derstand the preliminary symptoms of her displeasure
without waiting for the box on the ear. In short, alE
artificial education ought to be an anticipation of natural:
education."
This natural education is the instruction of the intel-
lect in the ways of nature — which includes man and his
relations to the universe — and to discipline the will and'
cultivate the affections so that they shall be in harmony
with the highest mental and moral conditions. The
man who is the most truly educated, is he who under-
stands the most fully nature's methods, and whose char-
acter is most completely in accord with those principles.,
conformity to which is necessary to man's well being.
A mind may be artificially cultivated beyond its normal
capacity, and at the cost of intellectual vigor and virility.
What is needed is more scientific culture, the develop-
ment and training of the mental powers to observe, to>
reflect, to inquire, and to apply practically the knowl-
edge gained. This kind of culture strengthens the
mind while it gives it materials for thought, and incen-
tives to action. We do not deprecate the pursuit of
classical learning, nor do we undervalue the advantages
of wide acquaintance with books; but we wish to em-
phasize the fact that one may be well versed in the liter-
ature of ancient and modern times and yet lack most im-
portant elements of a true education. This is an age of
IT, 2
THB OPBN COURT.
revision; and the old conceptions, definitions, and
methods of education quite as much as the old theologi-
cal creeds need to be revised in the interest of progress.
In his late address before the London Society for
the Extension of University Teaching on the subject
of "The Study of Literature," John Morley wisely ob-
served: "There is a very well known passage in which
Pericles, the great Athenian, describing the glory of the
community of which he was so great a member, says,
'• We at Athens are lovers of the beautiful, yet simple in
our tastes; we cultivate the mind without loss of manli-
ness.' But then, remember, that after all Athenian soci-
ety rested on a basis of slavery, and Athenian citizens
were able to pursue their love of the beautiful and their
simplicity and to cultivate their minds without loss of
manliness, because the drudgery and hard work and
service of the society were performed by those who had
no share in all these good things. With us, happily, it
is very different. We are all more or less upon a level.
The object of education, — our object — and it is that
which in my opinion raises us infinitely above the Athe-
nian level — is to hring the Periclean ideas of beauty and
simplicity, and of cultivation of the mind, within the
reach of those who do the drudgery and the service and
hard work of the world. And it can be done. Do not
let us be afraid. It can be done without in the least de-
gree impairing the skill of our handicraftsmen or the
manliness of life, without blunting 01 numbing the prac-
tical energies."
"SCIENCE AND IMMORTALITY."
The Christian Register of April 7 contains a
series of brief articles, several of them by eminent scien-
tific men, on "Science and Immortality." Prof. James
D. Dana is of the opinion that there is nothing in science
against immortality. Prof. Asa Gray thinks that the
interpretation of nature not beyond the highest scientific
consideration, that the theistic hypothesis is the best ex-
planation of the facts, and that "immortality is a proba-
ble, but not an unavoidable inference from theism."
Prof. Joseph Leidy regards no question as out of the
pale of science, and he thinks the facts of science make
it difficult to believe in the persistence of personal con-
sciousness after bodily dissolution. Prof. Simon New-
comb is " inclined to regard the question as lying wholly
without the pale of science, properly so-called," does not
think modern investigation has brought to light any
new facts bearing upon it, and that if consciousness has
been a gradual development as is implied in the theory
of the continuity of orga lie life, it "seems difficult to
assign any link in the series at which we can suppose so
great a break to have occurred as is implied in the
passage from mortality to immortality." Prof. J. P.
Lesley, says " Science cannot pessibly either teach or
deny immortality." Prof. Lester F. Ward says that
'•' so far as science can speak on the subject, the
consciousness persists as long as the organized brain, and
no longer." " The immortality of science," Prof. Ward
says, " is the immortality of matter and its motions in
the production of phenomena" and that with them con-
sciousness, the product of the eternal activities of the
universe, should not be confounded. Prof. E. S. Morse
writes, " I have never yet seen anything in the discov-
eries of science which would in the slightest degree sup-
port or strengthen a belief in immortality." Prof. Cope
seems to regard immortality as possible in spite of appa-
rent evidence against it, but doubts the persistence of
our personality. Dr. Dawson, of McGill University,
refers to the instinct of immortality in savage races as
a " God-given feature of the spiritual nature yearning
after a lost earthly immortal, and clinging to the hope
of a better being in a future life." Dr. T. Sterry Hunt
thinks that the "facts of modern science are rather con-
trary than favorable to the doctrines of a future life."
Nevertheless, he believes in a conditional immortality,
" the gift of God," but lacks time to explain what he
means. Dr. B. A. Gould thinks there is nothing in sci-
ence that should lead to disbelief in immortality. Dr.
Alfred R. Wallace says, " Outs'de of Modern Spiritual-
ism I know of nothing in recognized science to sup-
port the belief in immortality, and though, / consider
Spiritualism to be as truly an established experimental
science as any other, it is not recognized as such." Dr.
Asaph Hall thinks science gives no positive answer to
questions concerning immortality, but that modern dis-
coveries tend to strengthen the belief. Dr. Elliott
Coues says " There is much in the discoveries of psychic
science not only to support or strengthen the belief in
immortality, but to convert that belief into knowledge."
Herbert Spencer, according to Rev. M. J. Savage's recol-
lection of a conversation with him, does not think evolu-
tion touches the problem of personal immortality either
way, and he sees no satisfactory proof of the truth of the
latter doctrine. President Barnard, of Columbia College,
N. Y., says, " After mature reflection, it seems to me that
science has nothing whatever to say to the question. The
only basis of our faith in immortality must be found in
Revelation." A quotation from Huxley's article in the
Fortnig htly /?ei>z'ew, December, 1SS6, raised the question
whether the state of consciousness associated three score
years and ten with the movements of countless millions
of successively different material molecules, can be con-
tinued with some substance which has not the proper-
ties of "matter and force." Huxley's reply is, "As
Kant said on a like occasion, if anybody can answer
that question he is just the man I want to see." In
commenting on this and other notable expressions of
opinion which it publishes, the Register remarks, " If
unanimity can be found anywhere in these articles, it is
most nearly attained in the general concession that
science cannot show that immortality is impossible."
THE OPEN COURT.
*33
Mr. Edwin D. Mead, of Boston, who is well known
to many of our readers as a vigorous thinker and writer,
will be in Chicago shortly, and will give a course of five
lectures in Apollo Hall, (Central Music Hall building)
45 Randolph. Two of them will be on Dante, one on
Lessing, one on Kant, and another on Carlyle and Emer-
son. They will be given Tuesday and Friday after-
noons, beginning April 29. This will be a rare
opportunity for the Chicago public.
# # *
Enthusiastic free-thinkers who say, " Let us establish
a few free-thought colleges and universities," should
count the cost and consider the difficulties to be over-
come. The president of Harvard University was re-
cently asked as to the cost of starting a similar institu-
tion. "Oh, about five million dollars," was the reply.
"Two or three down and the rest within ten years."
When free-thinkers are willing to contribute several
million dollars to found and support a broad, unsectarian
institution of learning, we can have universities that will
■do better work perhaps than any now can do. But a
college, with half a dozen poorly paid professors and
thirty or forty students, all holding about the same
views, must of necessity be small and narrow, however
large and broad the name. What our young men and
women need is such contact with able minds, such
familiarity with all schools and phases of thought, and
•such access to the best results of scholarship as can be
had only in large universities with ample endowments.
They ought, indeed, also to have more familiarity with
our own literature than can now be obtained, so far as
we know, in any institution. For this purpose we need,
not new colleges so much, as new professorships in the
•old ones, the establishment of which seems feasible, with
the condition that the incumbents should be chosen by
a board of trustees composed of the original givers of
the money and their successors, said board to fill its own
•vacancies and make its own appointments forever.
Where this cannot be done free-thinkers might do what
the Unitarians did at Ithaca and Ann Arbor — settle
a missionary to give scholarly lectures weekly to the
students, distribute their literature and spread their views
by personal intercourse. The general flow of public
•education is' already so much in our favor that we need
•only to broaden and enrich it. Nothing is so bad for
us as to attempt to support little sectarian institutions.
We ought to set our faces against every school or col-
lege which dwarfs and cramps itself at the start by the
narrow aim of propagandizing any kind of sectarianism,
philosophical or other. Our public schools are greatly
in danger from sectarian rivals, who should have no
support from us. If there is any want that we are
•especially bound to supply, it is that of better teachers
.and text-books. At the same time there is need of a
broad unsectarian institution for instruction in all the
systems of philosophy and religion. The lecturers
should be competent representatives of the systems
respectively, the freest and fullest criticism should be
encouraged, and the work of the institution should be
limited to this instruction. The amount of money neces-
sary for the establishment and support of such a school
it would, we believe, be possible to raise.
Ernest Renan, in his Studies in Religious History,
speaks of the relation of man to the universe. The aim
of humanity will ever grow higher. Intellectual cul-
ture will gradually exclude supernatural belief, but
religion will never be excluded, it will but grow grander
and nobler as intellectual culture dissipates the mists ot
superstition that have through so many ages enshrouded
it. Man is not subject to the caprice of an unseen being
who looks upon his struggles and sufferings with indif-
ference. But he is a part of, and dependent upon the
whole universe, and his duty is to conform himself to
the order of progress and development which the uni-
verse is following. To strive faithfully for the supreme
good is virtue; to seek to bring about the higher devel-
opment of man is the work of the world.
^ # ^
The Problem of Evil: An Introduction to the
Practical Sciences, by Daniel Greenleaf Thompson, of
New York, will be issued in May by Longmans & Co.,
London. This work will be looked for by many with
deep interest. Mr. Thompson is known among thinkers
by his Psychology, the ablest and most comprehensive
work on the subject that has appeared from the pen of
any American author. It is a work of 1,193 pages, in
two volumes, published by Longmans & Co. in 1SS4,
and inscribed to his distinguished relative in the follow-
ing language:
These volumes are inscribed by a kinsman of a later genera-
tion to the illustrious memory of Sir Benjamin Thompson, Count
ltumford, a philosopher, statesman and benefactor of mankind, a
great prophet, who, while living, was not without honor save in
his own countrv, and upon whom, dead, that praise justly due to
a merit almost unrivalled among men of science has been but
tardily and incompletely bestowed both by his own family and
his countrymen at large.
Ethical culture draws the critical fire of two March
Episcopal reviews. Rev. J. A. Harris, D.D., considers
the general ideas of the movement in The Church
Magazine (Philadelphia, Hamersly & Co. ), and Rev.
Welford L. Robbins criticises Dr. Stanton Coit's article
on "The Final Aim of Moral Action," which appeared
in the English philosophical quarterly Mind, July, 1SS6,
in the Church Review. Both are a great improvement
on ordinary theological polemics, though neither goes
very deep.
i34 THE OPEN COURT.
THE RATIONALE OF PUNISHMENT.
BY CELIA P. WOOLLEY.
The practical benefits arising from the new science
of sociology are nowhere more manifest than in the
improved methods of reform employed in our care of
the poorer and disorderly classes of society. It is not,
however, methods of reform and punishment of which
I wish to speak in this paper, but rather of those under-
lying principles which determine and explain methods.
It is our philosophy of life, our theory of man, his na-
ture and conduct, which goes far to determine the char-
acter of our relations with our fellow-beings. The
parent must of necessity train the child according to his
views of the child's nature and destiny. If he regards
it as the child of sin and wrath, totally depraved in every
instinct and desire, he will endeavor at every turn to
surmount its wish with his own more enlightened
authority, to hedge it about with a system of restraints
and checks, and to break rather than guide and educate
the will. There are not many present households where
this gloomy theory is held. Where parents once erred
on the side of severity, believing the child to be a
creature of evil impulses, an interloper in God's king-
dom, the parent of to-day, regarding his offspring as
the heir of all the ages, and intoxicated with the idea
of individual liberty, errs, with equally grave results,
on the side of generosity and weak indulgence.
Taking a wider survey of society in general, here also
it is our philosophy which defines our relation to the
unfortunate and criminal classes. If we look upon these
as so many vicious malcontents, with an natural tendency
to lawlessness and crime, we shall have, no hesita-
tion in applying only those methods of punishment
based on the right of self-defense; while if, on the
other hand, we regard the criminal as an unfortunate
victim of circumstances he has no power to control, the
irresponsible ward of the community in which he lives,
we shall seek relief in those milder methods of reform
so popular among certain sentimental philosophers of
the times. Taking middle ground between these two
extremes, and looking upon criminal practice of all kinds
as the sign of the remaining brutishness of man, not yet
outgrown from the conditions of his animal origin, the
only means of cure seems to lie in the slow, safe processes
of general education, where the methods of wise restraint
are united to those which aim to reform and develop
the individual character. Thus we see that while the
theory of punishment is only indirectly concerned with
the question of methods, it bears a direct relation to the
object. What, then, is the object of punishment?
[. R. Brockway, a practical philanthropist, who
firings eminent ability as well as experience to bear on
the discussion of such themes, in an address before the
National Prison Congress, a few years ago, spoke as
follows of imprisonment, and the same applies to all
forms of punishment: "Civilized sentiment concedes-
that the protection of society is the main purpose of im-
prisonment * * * but the effective protection requires
one of two conditions, the reformation of the criminal or
his continued detention." In Cox's Principles of Pun-
ishment, a work of much merit, the objects of punish-
ment are described as three in number; ist, to set an ex-
ample to society, generally spoken of as the deterrent
principle; 2nd, to prevent a repetition of the offense, and
3d, to reform the criminal. Mary Carpenter is careful
to insist that while all punishment should include the de-
terrent principle, it should never be associated with a
vindictive motive. Sir Walter Crofton makes the object
of punishment two-fold, that of amendment and exam-
ple. At the risk of seeming presumptuous, after quoting
from so many distinguished sources, I must say, that to-
my own mind the distinction between the two principles
underlying all punishment is made clearer when we de-
scribe the one as vindicatory and the other as the
reformatory. Let no one hastily assert the identity of
this vindicatory motive with the vindictive, for though
the two words are partially connected in the latin rootT
time and long association of the different ideas they
represent, has sufficiently distinguished them from each
other.
The objects of punishment are plainly only two,
the protection of society against a repetition of the of-
fense, and the amendment of the character of the
offender. The deterrent principle is simply incidental,.
one which serves an excellent purpose, but can never
justly be made a direct object of punishment, since soci-
ety has neither the right nor duty to punish for the sake
of setting an example.
All punishment being two-fold then in its object,
the first, or the vindicatory, is first not only in the order
of naming, but in that of necessity. The principle of
self-defense is one of imperative first choice among or-
ganized communities as with the individual. Society
must protect itself against all encroachments upon its
hard-won peace and safety before it can attend to the
needs of its special members. It may be admitted with-
out detriment to the main argument, that in the long
run this protection is best secured by the employment of
those means which tend to improve the general standard
of conduct, and that the vindicatory end of punishment
is, in the final result, attained only through the reform-
atory; but this does not obviate the necessity of those
coercive measures which contribute to the security of
to-day.
Of these two motives underlying punishment the
vindicatory had at first exclusive sway, and has been
gradually supplanted by the reformatory as man has
progressed in the order of humane civilization. It is
this which leads many zealous philanthropists to declare
that the reformatory principle will in time, entirely
THE OPEN COURT.
x35
supplant the vindicatory, but here, it seems to me, they
greatly misapprehend the nature of the problem in hand.
The belief so ardently cherished by a certain class of
reformers that the criminal is a creature more unfortu-
nate than guilty, the victim of circumstances, " society's
mistake," as he has been called, bids fair to become one
of the popular social superstitions of the age.
In the old theology we were taught that it was
man's carnal nature which lay at the bottom of all his
misconduct; under the guidance of the new philosophy,
imperfectly understood, we are in danger of reaching
the other extreme, attaching the blame of all that is false
and evil in our surroundings to the universe in general.
We need a revival of the doctrine of free agency which
is not so incompatible with the teachings of modern
science as we are apt to imagine. Above all, the
youth of our day, and the criminal and unruly orders of
society should be taught that within themselves lies the
power of choice between good and evil. Punishment
of all kinds should be made to bear the relation of effect
to cause, otherwise it serves only to harden the nature
and create disrespect for all authority. Punishment is
salutary only as its meaning is intelligently understood
by the one to whom it is administered. " Ah, parents!"
exclaimed Charles Kingsley, " Are there not real sins
enough in the world without your defiling it over and
above by inventing new ones?" This is indeed the re-
sult of many present modes of punishment. Instead of
curing the old sins we invent new ones by setting up a
host of arbitrary standards and meaningless rules which
bear no relation whatever to real right and duty. A
newspaper anecdote illustrates this point: Two bovs
were on their way to the river in search of a half day's
amusement, one of them in direct disobedience to his
father's command. He was reminded by the other of
the probable consequences of this act, and his reply
evinced the spirit of modern boyhood. "Pooh," he ex-
claimed, "what is five minutes' whipping to four hours
of fun." What, indeed, from the boy's standpoint?
What connection was there in his mind, except the most
forced and arbitrary, between a half day's sport at wad-
ing and fishing and the threatened punishment? He
felt himself to be in the hands of a superior force, to
which he must submit, but to defy and circumvent which
was the free and glorious privilege of every self-respect-
ing boy. Turning to that child of larger growth, whose
history we read in the annals of the police-court, we
find him weighing the risks and chances attendant on
his peculiar method of making a living with consummate
coolness and skill. To him the rewards of cunning and
dishonesty more than balance those of virtuous industry,
while the pains and penalties attaching to discovery are
but the incidental inconveniences in a life given over to
risk and excitement. The habitual criminal has neither
the culture nor experience which teaches the relative
values of things. In spite of his boasted knowledge of
the world he is the merest tyro in real experience of
men and motives. Knaves and fools are properly classed
in the same category since both are deficient in logical
understanding, contenting themselves with the nearer,
fleeting good, the success cheaply won or stolen, in place
of the difficult but lasting triumphs achieved in the
growth of character and honest reputation. One of the
characters in an old play, the rogue who is entrapped
and discovered, betrays a profounder knowledge of men
and motives than he had ever learned before, when he
contritely observes that "the man who invented truth
was a much cunninger fellow than I took him to be."
The contrast afforded in the teachings of the Jewish
and Christian Scriptures on this subject contains an in-
structive suggestion for us. The first stands for that
bare and poor idea of justice evinced in the words, "And
thine eye shall not pity, but life shall go for life, eye for
eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot."
The second, on the other hand, teaches that unqualified
mercy laid down in the precepts, "Thou shalt love thy
neighbor as thyself," "Sell all thou hast and give to the
poor," " If a man smite thee on one cheek turn to him
the other also." Taking the two systems together we
have in these representative statements of belief, law
and gospel as it pertains to the particular department
of ethics we are considering. This division of the law
and gospel, crudely as it is set forth in the popular the-
ology of the day, is not so artificial as at first appears.
Nature as well as religion has her law and gospel, her
instinct of justice and her instinct of mercy. In all hu-
man experience we may also note this same divided im-
pulse to action, and the highest philanthropy is that
which wisely blends the two; the instinct of strict justice
with that of a loving charity. Neither the Jewish nor
Christian scheme, taken alone, contains a complete code
of practical morality. In the first the sense of retribu-
tion is too strong, tyrannizing over every gentler feel-
ing; while in the second we are in danger of losing it
altogether in the undue emphasis placed upon the duties
of self-sacrifice, patience, etc. Yet each served, ard con-
tinues to serve, its part in the evolution of conduct.
Herbert Spencer justly makes the formation of char-
acter the primary object of all education. " To curb
restive propensities, to awtfken dormant sentiments, to
strengthen the perceptions and cultivate the tastes, to
encourage this feeling am! repress that, so as finally to
develop the child into a man of well-proportioned and
harmonious nature — this is alike the aim of parent and
teacher." In the same connection he adds: " Character
is the thing to be changed rather than conduct. It is not
the deeds but the feelings from which the deeds spring
that requires dealing with." Richter has a thought of
the same import when he says, " What you desire is not
the child's obedience, but his inclination to it, love, trust,
i36
THK OPEN COURT.
self-denial, the reverence for the best." All this is ex-
cellent, but it does not diminish the importance of the
principle I would insist on, that in the spirit of obedience,
carefully instructed, lies the fundamental help and safe-
guard of all character. " Character is the thing to be
changed rather than conduct," says Mr. Spencer, but
would it not be more correct to say, " Character is
the thing to be changed along with conduct." Char-
acter is a thing of slow growth. Society cannot wait
until a man's principles are correctly formed before re-
quiring his submission to rightful authority. It is his
overt acts, his external conduct which she is obliged to
take note of, not his inward motive and disposition,
though these are, in their place, the proper subjects of
her care. Though in a certain sense it is true, it is by no
means enough to say that society is responsible for this
or that evil condition. Society is a myth, an intellectual
abstraction, a glittering generality. Its human factors,
the men and women composing it, are the only real thing
about it, on whom devolves the responsibility of all
its failures and triumphs.
We are living in a new era of social life and
experiment where the sentimentalist is equally out of
place with the old time fanatic. When a monstrous
wrong like slavery is to be done away with we require
those heroic methods that belong to social revolution.
The work of the reformer of to-day is of a slow and
plodding order, because he has a more intricate problem
to solve than any of his predecessors. It is compara-
tively easy to sign a historic document like the Declara-
tion of Independence, to set free a million serfs, to strike
the shackles from the black man's wrists. These are the
great leading events of history, but about which cluster
a host of complex problems on whose just solution hang
those promises of benefit to the world which the first
contain. The present is the age not of great, bewilder-
ing achievements or marked changes in the moral prog-
ress of man, but of slow and steady growth.
I close then with the old appeal for a reawakened
sense of personal moral accountability. The great need
of this and every age is that of a righteous, intelligent
will power. Teach the child and the criminal, who is
also a child in understanding, that the merit and blame
of their conduct rest chiefly with themselves, and that
the reward or punishment jvhich follows is but the un-
avoidable result of their own action. Teach both, that
while they are but units in the community to which they
belong, they are none the less active, responsible agents
therein, and not the passive tools of fate and circum-
stances. Teach them also that as they are but depend-
ent parts of a single whole, the wisest self-interest is
coincident only with the general good ; that respect for
just authority and regard for the rights of others are
duties of paramount importance. Thus shall we impart
to each that rational conception of life, that enlightened
view of conduct and duty which in itself is the greatest
aid to a happy and useful existence.
CORRESPONDENCE.
FREE-THOUGHT EDUCATION.
To the Editors : Morris Plains, N. J.
May I venture a few remarks suggested by Prof. Davidson's
paper upon Free-Thought Education?
While it is impossible to overestimate the importance of such
institutions as he proposes, may it not be possible to be too san-
guine as to their results? Would, in point of fact, an atmos-
phere of unadulterated "free thought" conduce to the healthy
growth of free-thought principles?
The advantages of mental growth in free-thought schools and
colleges as compared with those of orthodox establishments, would
be equal to the advantages for muscular growth in country life
as compared with city life, but that is all. Healthy growth is
possible in both.
It must not be forgotten that, paradoxical as it sounds, a free-
thinker may develop into a dogmatist, and the free-thinking
parent or teacher who imposes his thought upon the mind of
child or pupil because he himself has achieved freedom, shackles
the younger mind as surely as the orthodox professor who
admits no question of the infallibility of his belief.
For what is freedom? It is not the acceptance of free-thought
opinions as held by others; nor is it even the choice of such opin-
ions; it is that mental condition which makes such a choice pos-
sible, and which in itself presupposes the existence of at least two
distinct possibilities. Freedom implies the existence of the pos-
sibility of choice; choice includes doubt, consideration, the possi-
bility of conflict; without these freedom is impossible.
Yet how few parents, and still fewer teachers, recognize this —
how few will frankly say to child or pupil : " Such is my opinion
upon a given subject, but I do not ask you to adopt it. It is the
result of my experience and maturity, but in that respect only is
more valuable than yours. I must tell you that others of my
age, and equally mature, hold views directly opposed to mine; I
will endeavor to show you the grounds for both opinions, and
with you, after such explanation, lies the responsibility of choice;
that is your inalienable right of freedom."
Yet, if this is not done, the very fact that parent or teacher is
a free-thinker lessens the possibility of freedom for the younger
mind. Probably the reason why the children of great thinkers
rarely equal their parents in the same direction, lies in this. They
accept the opinions which make the atmosphere of their lives,
and do not realize the conditions which determined their choice,
and acceptance in such circumstances is not freedom.
In all ages the descendants of reformers have lacked the zeal
of their fathers. Every enthusiast asks sadly, " who will carry on
my work?" realizing that the very minds formed by his teach-
ing may lack that which inspired his own, viz., the existence of
distinctly opposing elments.
Free-thinkers, if in less danger than orthodox professors ot
over-estimating their beliefs, may yet in their enthusiam err in
somewhat similar fashion. Hegelians, Aristotelians and Rosmi-
nians can, we all know, hold very tenaciously to the superiority
of their own views, and wage as acrimonious a warfare in their
behalf as the staunchest Tractarian or Presbyterian.
Unless, indeed, " a man's reach exceed his grasp," where is
freedom for his pupils.
The ideal educational atmosphere must always be that of free
discussion, which shall recognize and include views of every
kind, even those opposed to its own principles, and permit to its
pupils the absolute, unshackled exercise of individual choice,
THE OPEN COURT.
m
which is freedom — an institution in which there shall be no
dominantism even of philosophy — in which, if after acquiring
knowledge of different opinions the student (exercising his
inalienable right of choice) prefers the shackles of orthodoxy
will retain the respect of his teachers.
Mr. Davidson instances the earnestness of Roman Catholics
in the establishment of exclusive schools as a worthy example for
free-thinkers. But while cordially admitting this, does not the
reflection arise that the very existence of such special schools has
fostered the bigotrv and narrowmindedness of Romanists, and may
there not be a possible danger, even if in less degree, of philosophic
bigotry in institutions exclusively devoted to the children of free-
thinkers, who already in their own homes enjoy the atmosphere
of freedom and perhaps find in- orthodox schools and colleges the
very element necessary to furnish the possibilities essential for
freedom of choice? Yours truly,
Janet E. Runtz-Rees.
MR. CONWAY'S WORK IN ENGLAND.
To the Editors: London, Eng.
London is less interesting since Mr. Conway has ceased to be
a central figure in its pulpits. Permanency of occupation, as you
know, makes the reputation of the pulpits. We have four or five
preachers of mark, and Mr. Conway was always named among
them. Mr. Spurgeon, Dr. Parker, Mr. Stopford Brooke, Mr.
Haweis, are familiar names of notable preachers in London, but
strangers visiting London would also ask for South Place Chapel
while Mr. Conway was with us. He was known as the " Ameri-
can preacher " in London, who attained and sustained a reputa-
tion among us. Forty years ago I was a seat-holder in South
Place Chapel, when engaged in editing the Rcasoner — not taken
to be an entirely orthodox publication. W.J. Fox, known subse-
quently as the great orator of the Anti-Corn League, was then
the preacher. Always having personal friends in the congrega-
tion I used what influence I had to promote the election of Mr.
Conway, a preacher whom I believed would sustain the reputation
of the pulpit which Mr. Fox had made famous. This proved to
be true. The other day an article opened in one of our chief
journals saying, " The chapel where Mr. Conway preached— cer-
tain remarkable meetings have been held." Just as used to be
said in former years " The chapel where Mr. Fox preached."
Since Mr. Conway left, many persons of mark have occupied his
platform, but none have proved to possess those various " all
round " qualities impelling the congregation to choose one as per-
manent minister. South Place is as free as the Parker Memo-
rial Hall in Boston. We have no other church like South Place
in England. Its congregation is absolutely without fear. Who-
ever has distinctive ideas to proclaim, which have the spirit of
reverence in them, Mr. George Hickson straightway submits
such name for hearing. It is no mean proof of Mr. Conway's
power and versatility that he sustained the interest for 21 years,
of the most cultivated and critical congregation in Great Britain.
I remember when first he came to England, that Mr. Samuel
Lucas, the editor of the Morning Star, who was a brother- in-law
of Mr. Bright, and therefore knew what eloquence was — telling
me that "he had heard a speech of Mr. Conway that he thought
was as eloquent as anything to which he had ever listened." So
far from Mr. Conway's powers abating or his influence decreasing
with years — his repute was greater when he left us than it had
been before. In some of his later published sermons there were
passages of eloquence and beauty worthy of our best English
preachers of the days of Jeremy Taylor and South. Mr. Conway
left also a name of mark in literature. A paper of his appeared
in the Daily News upon London. It was a poem — nothing so
fresh, original and striking has ever been written upon the great
city by an Englishman. George Jacob Holyoake.
THE IDEAL.
BY W. F. BARNARD.
This is the crowning glory of our lives;
That deep within the soul there lives a thirst,
An aspiration to the highest, wrought
Of perfect love. A longing half expressed
For something far above the what-we-know
Or can imagine; making sweetest pain
Of all our incompleteness.
All our souls
Are but the shadows of the souls to be;
And all our life is but the lesser life
That grows to greater as it yields to love.
We yearn toward the invisible, we set
Our faces to the East to find the goal,
The something that we call the perfect life,
Whose echo moves within us evermore,
And moving molds us. Higher thoughts, and deeds
Of nobler purpose, grander, truer lives;
.These we aspire to, these we strive to gain.
And ah! the strife is noble, for our paths
Do not lie always where the feet would go;
No, not forever do we journey through
Fair fields where peaceful rivers glide to sea
And nothing jars, but all things seek their ends.
Sometimes our guiding star hangs dim and pale
Far in the distance, and our feet are set
Upon the borders of such arid wastes
As seem the very abodes of living death,
And all the air is sown with thick despairs
That rush to overwhelm us.
In such night
The voice of duty calls us to obey;
To still pursue and not be overcome;
To gird ourselves with high exalted thoughts
Of all our lives' fair possibilities.
The dawn will come when night has spent itself,
And so we brave the darkness waiting dawn.
It comes at last and ofttimes with it come
Thoughts of that nobler manhood yet to be,
And of that glorious future world whose laws
Shall sphere themselves in perfect harmony.
Then rises deep emotion in the breast,
And in that highest moment when the soul
Is free from all the burden of the world,
Cleared for an instant of Earth's hampering dust,
We feel a touch. Our nobler, truer selves
Yearn toward us through the vast that lies between,
Till all we are seems merged in what might be,
And all our love grows ecstacy of faith.
Poetry can be to man what love is to the hero. It
can neither counsel him, nor fight for him, nor yet do
any special work for him, but it can teach him to be a
hero, summon him to great deeds, and equip him with
the strength for everything that he should be. — Schiller.
138
THE OPEN COURT.
BOOK REVIEWS.
WUNDT'S ETHICS.
El/iik, Eine Untersuchung der Thatsachen mid Gesetze des Sittlichen
Lebens. Wilhelm Wundt. Stuttgart, 1886.
A careful study of this book is especially to be commended
to Englishmen and Americans, among whom utilitarianism is
spread so widely' and is so often thought the only possible theory
of liberal ethics.
Wundt has given much attention to the English views of his
subject. In the preface he says: "The English philosophy of
morals has been to me very valuable, although I must confess
more negatively than positively. I am, throughout, in opposition
to its individualistic and utilitarian tendencies, but my con-
viction as to the untenableness of this standpoint, is chiefly due to
the studv of the English Utilitarians; and he who knows the
part which error has to play, in the development of science will
recognize that my judgment contains besides the censure a praise
which is almost equal to the renown of a discovered truth."
Wundt's critique of Jeremy Bentham's theory of ethics based
on pleasure and pain (p. 336, etc.), and that of John Stuart Mill,
the most ingenious disciple of Bentham (p. 341), is very interest-
ing and, I should say, unanswerable. Of Herbert Spencert
Wundt says : " Herbert Spencer's entire philosophical system is
built upon the doctrine of evolution. Spencer, as he points out
himself, had conceived this idea before the publication of Dar-
win's works. But at any rate Darwin's views have influenced
Spencer's system greatly, and his later work on ethics shows
traces of Darwin's influence more than his earlier works.
"Spencer's ethical views are ruled by Darwin's ideas of adapta-
tion and hereditv. According to the principle of adaptation the
moral is identical with the useful; and the useful again is the adjust-
ment to surroundings and conditions of life. Conditions of life be-
ing variable, our moral concepts must undergo constant changes,
and a constant absolute moral code cannot exist, although there can
be no doubt that some acts have been injurious in all times, while
others in all ages have been recognized as useful; similarly, physi-
cal organization shows congruities in its different stages of
development."
"It is the principle of adaptation which leads Spencer to a utili-
tarian relativism which is also to be met with, implicitly, in his
predecessors of a utilitarian character. But Spencer lays special
stress on the relativity of moral conceptions, and thus reveals two
weak points of utilitarianism. First, there is no discrimination of
the moral, proper, and other forms of the useful which, according
to our consciousness, cannot receive an ethical valuation." On
page 363 Wundt adds to this: "From this point of view we
should be obliged to consider the invention of printing, of the use
of the compasses, of the steam-engine, of antiseptic ligature as
eminently moral acts. Concerning the invention of gunpowder
and dvnamite we may be undecided, or should say that they are
partly moral, partly immoral. On the other hand, as utilitarians
are obliged to admit that many things which we are wont to con-
sider as merely useful, should be declared to be moral ; so on the
other hand from their standpoint, many things should be declared
immoral, or at least indifferent, which heretofore were praised as
moral; for instance, if the father of a family or a man whose
place in human society is difficult to fill, makes an attempt at
saving a drowning child at the risk of his life. * * * In this
case, to be sure, the utilitarian would say not the single action
must be useful, but the average character of actions must be such
as under ordinary circumstances to increase human happiness."
"The second weak point of the ethical adaptation theory con-
sists in its appreciation of the ejfect or result of an act and the
entire neglect of the intention in which it is done. But 6uch is a
matter of course, if the ethical appreciation takes place, as an
engine is valued according to the effect of its work. The inten-
tion with which we act is to Spencer not a primary but a second-
ary point for our ethical judgment, and then only so far as it
warrants the probability of future usefulness." Spencer makes the
sequences of an act the test of its ethical value, while Wundt
wants the motives to be considered.
"So far Spencer does not deviate much from the utilitarians
before him," Wundt says, "but he has added a new aspect to the
problem by taking into consideration the doctrine of inheritance."
"A great difficulty of Bentham's utilitarianism consisted in
showing how egotistic desires may become motives for public
utility. Spencer answers this question by transferring the prob-
lem from individual experience to the evolution of the race. As
there are innumerable generations at our command the difficulty
is greatly lessened. In the human race some fundamental moral
conceptions have been developed and are developing still. These
conceptions are the result of experiences as to what proved to be
useful, and are inherited through transference upon the nervous
system."
"Against this theory there is only one objection, — that the
difficulty which is eliminated is less than the difficulty which
is introduced. * * * If even such elementary data of
consciousness as sensory perceptions, or the conception of
space cannot be proven to be innate, how can we speak of inborn
moral ideas which presuppose many complicated concepts relative
to the acting person as well as to his surroundings. * * * Prac-
tical neurology is contrasted with such fantastical views, as astron-
omy and geography, are with the discoveries of Jules Verne; and
the old theory of idea innatee in its naivete, according to which the
chief subject matters of morals, metaphysics and logics were con-
sidered a cradle gift of God, is preferable at least for its simplicity.
We acknowledge, therefore, that an important step has been made
in the history of modern English utilitarianism when the idea
of evolution was introduced ; nevertheless, Spencer's attempt at
deducing the moral development, which may be found in the
progress of civilization simply from conditions of individual
evolution, is best qualified to demonstrate the impossibility of
such an explanation."
In opposition to the utilitarian theory, altruistic principles
have been proposed by Hutcheson and Schopenhauer. They
declare only charity and sympathetic emotions with our fellow crea-
tures to be ethical. All egotism is objectionable. But since
Leibnitz, Kant, Goethe and others pointed out that self-perfection
was one of the duties of man, we should say that the extreme
altruism does not afford a tenable principle of morality. And
so Wundt explains how a kind of moderate altruistic utilitarian-
ism became the ruling opinion of modern ethics, viz. those of
Germany.
Wundt divides the sciences into descriptive and normative
Descriptive sciences are psychology, history, the natural sciences,
etc. ; the normative sciences are jurisprudence, logics, aesthetics,
grammar and ethics. The former treat things as they are, the latter
as they ought to be. But the ought is not quite missing in the
former sciences. From many irregular facts gathered by experi-
ence the ought appears as a natural law. So the ought that is
becomes a must. The Norm, congruent with real existence, is
necessity. In the background of grammar and the other norma-
tive sciences, logic stands. "Logic is only the ethics of thinking;
ethics," Wundt, says, " is the ultimate normative science, the
moral ought is the last source of the norm-idea."
In establishing the basis of his ethics Wundt starts from the
individual will, which he contemplates in its conditions and rela-
tions. From this fact as the original datum, motives and norms
of action rise which surpass the individual consciousness and
point back to a universal will, the bearers of which are the indi-
THE OPEN COURT.
1.39
viduals, and in the ends of which the single provinces of indi-
vidual aspirations are comprised.
Omitting Wundt's explanations of his principles of morality,
we proceed to the last and practical part of his ethics in which
he propounds a synopsis of the moral norms. They are of (i) indi-
vidual, (2) social and (3) human character; each of them is subjec-
tive as well as objective, and contains as much of a right as of a
duty.
The subjective individual norm is self-regret, which he formu-
lates as: Think and act in such a way as to never lose your self-
respect. The objective individual norm is that of duty : do your
duty to which you are pledged. The subjective social norm is
what the Bible calls love of the neighbor: respect your fel-
low being as you do yourself. The objective social norm is the
interest in the welfare of the community or society {Gemeinsinn).
It requests us to do services to the community to which we belong.
The subjective humane virtue is humility. We have to consider
ourselves as mere organs or instruments of our moral ideals.
The objective humane virtue is unselfishness, which commands
us to sacrifice ourselves for the purpose which we recognize as
the ideal purpose of our life.
It would lead us too far to touch on the details of Wundt's
voluminous work. With this review we can only invite to a
study of the book and heartily wish for a readable English trans-
lation.
In his results Wundt approaches, as he confesses in the pref-
ace, the ethics of the post-Kantian speculative idealism, which is
the more noteworthy, as Wundt is by no means a mere specu-
lative philosopher, but primarily a scientist, and among scientists
he leads the van on the subject of neurology. He adds in his
preface that there may be more reason to wonder at this outcome,
for he must confess that on other subjects of philosophy similar
results will be reached, which will give credit to the philosophical
work done in the beginning of this century.
" In judging of philosophical doctrines," he continues, "one
should distinguish the everlasting tenor lInhalf) from its tran-
sient formulation 'Form). Philosophical systems, which once im-
pressed deeply the human mind, having arisen in a time of transi-
tion and belonging now to the history of the past, should neither be
condemned as chimerical dreams nor revered as eternal truths.
The useless frames of such systems were destroyed, but their vital
ideas took root in all single sciences, and by and by philosophy
will be regenerated through the reaction of the sciences. Thus
in the general views of philosophy much must be changed, and
in minor details most, perhaps all, is to be corrected; neverthe-
less philosophy inaugurated the work which had to be tempo-
rarily intrusted to the sciences, and philosophy finally will have
to consummate it." Paul Carus.
Heredity. A Psychological Study of its Phenomena, Laws,
Causes and Consequences. From the French of Th. Ribot,
author of Contemporary English Psychology. New York :
Appleton & Co., 1877.
Th. Ribot, the director of the Revue Philosophitjue, at Paris,
and one of the most prominent French savants is distinguished
for the breadth and earnestness of his thought. He has been the
interpreter of the contemporary German and English philosophy
to his countrymen by several meritorious treatises. His special
department is psychology as it is based on physiological research.
The present valuable work on heredity (which was first printed
by the Appleton's in 1S75,) bears on the same subject. Ribot
defines instinct to be a composite reflex action, and explains it as an
unconscious mode of intelligence. Instincts, it is possible, are
only habits fixed by heredity (p. 22); but he declares (p. 33) that
this explanation is rather vague and inaccurate. " As instinct rises
it approaches intelligence and as intellect descends it approaches
instinct." With regard to the causes of heredity Ribot believes
that the psychological instances should be explained from the
physiological cases of heredity. Physiological heredity, he says,
will be admitted without hesitation. Although this savors of
materialism, he thinks that his solution is reconcilable with philo-
sophical idealism. No doubt mental manifestations often influ-
ence the organism, but heredity belongs to the domain where the
organism influences the mental manifestations. " Heredity thus
understood, appears to us," he says on p. 275, " to be merely one
of the many physiological influences to which mental develop-
ment is subject."
The causes of physiological heredity are to be looked for in
the law of the persistence of force. "The definite result of these
researches is that heredity is identity as far as is possible; it is one
being in many. 'The cause of heredity,' says Haeckel, ' is the
partial identity of the materials which constitute the organism of
the parent and child and the division of this substance at the time
of reproduction.' "
Most interesting are Mr. Ribot's investigations on the conse-
quences of heredity, which is in so close connection with evolu-
tion and even is the cause or condition which makes it possible.
Heredity is a form of determinism and vet it leads from the auto-
matic act of animal instincts to the freedom of human intelli-
gence. Now, which of the two is at the bottom of phenomena in
nature, mechanism and law or personality and freedom? At
times we are inclined to say the one, at times the other. Ribot
concludes with the sentence: "Were we to occupy a higher
standpoint, we should see that what is given us from without as
science under the form of mechanism, is given us from within as
a-sthetics or morals under the form of free-will." P. C.
Comparative Physiology and Psychology. A Discussion
of the Evolution and Relations of the Mind and Body of
Man and Animals. By 5. V. Clevenger, M. Z?., etc. Chicago:
Jansen, McClurg & Co., 1S85; pp. 247.
The author of this discussion is a scientific thinker well
equipped with a store of accurate knowledge, and quite dexter-
ous in making use of it. Moreover, lie is one of those rare men
capable of disinterested enthusiasm and thorough devotion to
a high cause. His desire is to acquire so complete a knowledge
of the human organism, and especially of its nervous system, as
will enable him scientifically to understand the precise nature of
mental derangements, hoping thereby todevise ways and means
to alleviate the sufferings of a numerous and most unfortunate
class of fellow-creatures. The work touches on almost all bio-
logical problems, and has an ingenious explanation for most of
them. We readily believe the author when he assures us that
he found it impossible to crowd together in this small compass
all the thoughts contained in his note-books. Nature is cruel.
"Of fifty seeds she often brings but one to bear;-' nay, some-
times none at all.
Of course, it is out of the question in a brief notice like this
to take account, much less to examine every one of the numerous
flowers scattered broadcast from this cornucopia. Theideasare,
however, mostly interesting, some of them verv suggestive, nnd
a few of great and lasting importance; only they will have to be
scientifically proved before they can gain general acceptance.
The following are the titles of the fifteen chapters of his book:
Introduction; Primitive Life and Mind; Organogeny; (jenesis;
Development; five chapters on nervous and mental physics;
Morphology, Histology, and Evoluton of the Human Brain;
three chapters on mental activities; the Law of Expediency and
Optimistic Conclusion.
Dr. Clevenger, in common with most physiologists and
pathologists of our time, takes psychological phenomena to be
functional outcomes of the organism, and in endeavoring to ex-
140
THE OPEN COURT.
plain such phenomena in their connection with vital processes,
he looks upon the latter as the cause of the former, differing here
from psychologists generally, who accept the two-sided as-
pect as a working hypothesis. Such and such processes are
going on in the organism, and we find them accompanied by such
and such mental phenomena, or vice versa. When (page 202)
Dr. Clevenger defines sensations as "conditions of the molecules
realized in consciousness," one might as well, or even better,
turn the tables and assert that molecules, with their positions and
motions, are conditions of the sensations realized in conscious-
ness. The investigator is comparing his two corresponding as-
pects, the subjective and the objective. They are not the cause
of each other.
Our author announces chemical affinity as his leading prin-
ciple in the explanation of vital processes, but in his chapters on
the physics of the nervous system, adopts, nevertheless, the undu-
latory hypothesis. By means of waves one can explain every-
thing in a mechanical way, for all necessary mechanical factors
are assumed to begin with. Where the exact value of these
factors cannot be ascertained, the hypothesis is utterly worthless.
In vital processes we have to do with qualitative distinctions, and
these are of chemical origin. The disturbance set up in a nerve
by stimulation is strictly chemical. It is due to explosive disin-
tegration. Functional disintegration is the immediate effect of
stimulation on any kind of protoplasm — not undulatory motion.
Dr. Clevenger's idea, that nutritive assimilation is due to
saturation of chemical affinities, is a great advance towards light
in the total darkness that prevails in biological quarters with re-
gard to this most important function. It is usually assumed
without explanation, as an occult vital achievement, somehow
effected in the unexplored recesses of the mystery of life. Here
are the vital molecules and here the nutritive pabulum. Now
shut your eyes. One, two, three, and the dead material of the
pabulum has been magically converted into ever so many other
living molecules. This is virtually what many biologists teach.
Nutritive assimilation is, in all verify, chemical saturation.
When Dr. Clevenger shall find out how the want for nutritive
saturation arises in the living substance, he will have secured the
most potent help in his attempt to construct biology, deductively,
from primitive function* of life.
Our author's intervertebral theory of brain formation stands,
as he himself candidly confesses, on the same footing as the ver-
tebral theory of the skull which has occupied so many investi-
gators since Goethe and Oken. The cephalic deficiency of the
amphioxus has in our days misled many scientists. The head
of an animal is the most essential and peculiar part of its organ-
ism. An infusorium has already well established head-domina-
tion. The relation of the headless somites of worms to their
head, gives a correct notion of the paramount value of the latter;
it is certainly not formed by coalescence of somites; it is not by
chance that the sensory organs have developed in the cephalic
portion. Its chemical constitution is, at the very beginning of
animal life, superior to all other parts of the body.
By far the most important biological theory advanced by Dr.
Clevenger is that concerning the nature of the neuroglia, which
he holds to be the central organ of consciousness. He says it is
"the seat of the feelings, the meeting place of the sensations, the
part to which waves converge, and from which they diverge in
the institution of vital movements" (p. 121). This theory is by no
means scientifically proved, but, in our opinion, it enunciates,
nevertheless, the greatest of all biological truths; it contains the
germ of a complete revolution in the conception of the complex
animal organism. We will try to make this clear. Embryology
leaves unknown how the nerves are formed which unite the dif-
ferent parts of the body. Histology fails to discover direct com-
munications between the ultimate sensory fibres and the initial
motor fibres. But there exists a newly homogeneous substance
to which, as Dr. Clevenger puts it, " the sensory nerves converge,
and from which the motor nerves diverge." This substance is
the neuroglia, held by most investigators to be merely connective
tissue and not nerve substance. This doubtful substance is, how-
ever, found to differ chemically in an essential manner from con-
nective tissue, and various observers have already declared it to
be of neural consistency. The strongest argument against its
nervous character was advanced by Meynert. Huguenin ex-
presses it thus: "A tissue which increases as mental function
decreases, cannot be the medium of such function." It is, namely,
a fact, that an ox, for instance, has more neuroglia than a man.
To this objection Dr. Clevenger very aptly replies: "As dif-
ferentiations occurred in a higher scale of intelligence, it is the
very substance of all others to be encroached upon by organiza-
tion." The relational elements, represented by the network of
nerve-fibres ending in the neuroglia, increase in number as or-
ganization advances, and fill more and more the space originally
occupied by the homogeneous neuroglia, which then was receiv-
ing only few relational elements. Besides, the human neuroglia
is sure to be qualitatively vastly superior to that of the ox.
It has been the ambition of mechanical biologists to demon-
strate an unbroken continuity between the sensory fibres and the
motor fibres. Dr. Clevenger clearly recognizes what the conse-
quence of this would be. " Consciousness would cease and the
animal become an automaton indeed." Neuroglia is, in truth,
the synthetical substance in which complex mental states are
realized. It can be almost proved by reasoning that it must be so.
We should like to say a few words on several other ideas of
Dr. Clevenger, but space forbids. So we take leave of him, fully
confident that biological science will be essentially furthered by
his researches.
ANNUAL MEETING OF THE F. R. A.
The twentieth annual meeting of the Free Religious Associa-
tion will be held in Tremont Temple, Boston, May 26 and 27,
commencing on Thursday, May 26, at 7:45 P. M., in Vestry Hall,
88 Tremont st., with a Business Session for hearing reports, elect-
ing officers, etc. F. M. Holland, Secretary.
INDIVIDUAL EXPRESSIONS.
Your paper is thus far a great success. — Daniel G. Thompson, New York.
The Open Court is the best periodical I ever read. — Dr. W. T. Carter,
Louisville.
I ca'l The Open Court the highest product of our civilization in journal
ism. — H. F. Bernard.
By the evidence of various omens The Open Court is destined to inaugu-
rate a new era in the literature of free thought. — Felix L. Oswald.
Capital title, original and regal appearance, opulent and imposing, and
promise in every page. — George Jacob Holyoake, Brighton, Eng.
I want to say how excellently promising I think The Open Court. If you
can keep this level its success, in the sense in which so radical a journal can be
successful, is assured. — Anna Garlin Spencer.
Each number is better than its predecessor thus far. Furthermore, The
Open Court has a literary, philosophic aspect. It looks very inviting to the
reader. Your writers will feel called upon to do their best, when they are
presented to the public in such fine style. — B. W. Ball.
In am glad to see that you keep the flag of free and advanced thought flying
in the United Suites. It will give me pleasure to send you a few articles deal-
ing with certain aspects of some things here. * * * I purpose sending
you first an article on the new ethical movement in London. — \Vm. Clarke,
London.
Better and better. Every student a-id thinker in the United States should
have it. For the first time we have the right thing. I have several subscribers
engaged. When you commenced the change I only looked for another Index.
The Open Court is something wholly different, and while the Index had much
value, this has the advantage of not being anchored to an old purpose anil com-
paratively local one. We must have a few volumes of Montgomery collected
in systematic shape. He will leave his work too fragmentary if he dies soon. —
Rev. E. P. Powell.
The Open Court.
A Fortnightly Journal,
Devoted to the Work of Establishing Ethics and Religion Upon a Scientific Basis.
Vol. I. No. 6.
CHICAGO, APRIL 28, 1887.
I Three Dolhirsjftr Year.
1 Singl ■ Copies, 15 cts.
ON MEMORY AS A GENERAL FUNCTION OF
ORGANIZED MATTER.*
AN ADDRESS DELIVERED ON OCCASION OF THE SOLEMN MEETING OF THE
IMPERIAL ACADEMY OF SCILNCES, AT VIENNA, MAY 30, MDCCCLXX.
BY EDWALD HF.RING,
MEMBER OF THE IMPERIAL ACADEMY OF SCIENCES.
Translated by Dr. Paul Carta, from the Second Edition, published by Carl
Gerald's So/in, WiesSj I&jb.
(Translation Copyrighted.)
If a scientist leaves behind the province of his
special inquiry and takes a journey into the realm of
philosophy, he may hope for a solution of the great
problem which underlies the minor problems to which
he has devoted his life. But he must be prepared for
secretly being discredited to those of his colleagues who
he knows remain quietly with the subjects of their
speciality, and at the same time he will be mistrusted by
the manor-born in the empire of speculation. He runs
the risk of losing his reputation with the former and of
gaining nothing with the latter.
The subject indeed for which I want your attention
on this solemn occasion is most alluring, but bearing in
mind what I said just now, I do not intend to leave the
domain of natural science to which I devoted my studies
and shall attempt only to gain the heights where we
may enjoy a general and free survey. It will seem in
the course of this paper as though I should not remain
faithful to this purpose, as I shall transcend into the
province of psychology. So for my own justification,
let me point out how far psychological inquiries are not
only an allowable but indispensable aid to physiological
investigation.
The animal human organism and its material
mechanism is the subject of physiology, but conscious-
ness is a simultaneous datum, and when the atoms of
the brain move according to certain laws, the inner life
of our soul is woven of sensations and conceptions of
feeling and will.
Everyone finds this in himself, and this, at the
same time, beams forth from the faces of his fellow-
beings. It breathes in the life of higher organized ani-
mals and even the most simple creatures bear some ves-
tiges of it. Who can tell the limit of empsychosis in
the empire of organic nature?
What can physiology do best in the face of such
•Presented to the readers of The Open Court as part of his Monistic
views, by Edward C Hegeler.
dual aspects of organic life? Should science be blind-
folded on the one side in order to better comprehend
the other?
As long as a physiologist is a mere physicist — and I
use the word physicist now in its most comprehensive
meaning — his method of inquiring into organic nature
is throughout one-sided, but it is justly so. As a crystal
to the mineralogist, so a man or an animal is to the
physiologist of this standpoint a mere lump of matter.
Certainly an animal feels pleasure and pain, and mental
emotions are connected with the material phenomena of
the human body, but that is no reason why a physicist
should take a different view of the corporeal existence of
man, who remains to him a compound of matter subject
to the same irrefragable laws as stones and plants; like
a machine, his motions are causally connected with each
other and dependent upon their surroundings.
Neither sensation nor conception nor conscious will
can form a link in the chain of these material processes of
which the physical life of organisms consists. If I an-
swer a question, the material process is conducted from
the organ of hearing by sensory nerve fibres to the
brain, and must pass through it as a material process in
order to reach the motor nerves of the organ of speech.
It cannot, after having arrived at a certain spot in the
brain enter into something immaterial in" order to be re-
transformed in some other place of the brain into an-
other material process. A caravan in the desert might
just as well enter into the oasis of a mirage in order to
return after a refreshing rest into the actual desert.
Thus is the physiologist so far as he is a physicist.
He stands behind the stage and carefully observes the
gear of machinery and the movements of the actors
from behind the scenes, but he misses the meaning of
the whole action which is readily understood by the
spectator. Now, should a physiologist never be allowed
to change his standpoint?
Certainly his object is not to understand a world of
concepts, but of realities. Nevertheless if he occasionally
change his place of observation and look at things from
the other side, or at least be told by trustworthy observers
the result of their experiences, he may derive some
benefit so as to better comprehend the apparatus and to
learn how it works.
For this very reason psychology is an indispensable
auxiliary science to physiology. If the latter did not
142
THE OPEN COURT.
heretofore use the former sufficiently it was to the less
extent a fault of physiology. Psychology has heen late
to till her ground with the plough of induction, for
only in such a soil can those fruits be raised for which
the physiologist has most need.
The neurologist is thus placed between the physicist
and the psychologist. The physicist considers the
causal continuity of all material processes as the basis
of his inquiry ; the thoughtful psychologist looks for the
laws of conscious life according to the rules of an
inductive method and assumes the validity of an unal-
terable order. And if the physiologist learns from
simple self-observation that conscious life is dependent
upon his bodily functions, and vice versa that his body to
some extent is subject to his will; he has only to assume
that this interdependence of mind and body is arranged
according to certain taxes and the connection is found
which links the science of matter to the science of con-
sciousness.
Thus considered, phenomena of consciousness appear
to be functions of material changes of organized sub-
stance and vice versa. As I do not wish to mislead, let
me expressly mention, aLthough it is included in the
term function; thus considered, material processes of
the cerebral substance appear to be functions of the
phenomena of consciousness. For if two variables are
dependent upon each other, according to certain laws a
change of the one demanding a change of the other
and vice versa, the one is called, as is known, a function
of the other.
This does not mean that the two variables, matter
and consciousness, are connected with each other as
cause and effect; for we do not know anything about it.
Materialism explains consciousness as a result of matter,
idealism takes the opposite view and from a third posi-
tion one might propound the identity of spirit and
matter. The physiologist, as such, should not meddle
with such questions.
Aided by this hypothesis of a functionary connec-
tion between spiritual and material, modern physiology
is enabled to draw phenomena of consciousness into the
domain of its inquiry, without leaving the solid ground
of its scientific method. The physiologist as a physicist
observes how the beam of light, the undulation of
sound, the vibration of heat affect the organs of sensa-
tion; how they enter into the nerves, are transformed
into an irritation of nerve fibre and conducted to brain
cells. Here he loses their vestiges. On the other hand,
he observes the spoken word coming forth from the
mouth of a speaking person, he sees him move his
limbs and finds these movements caused by contractions
of muscles which are produced through motor nerves
irritated by nerve cells of the central organs. Here
again he is at his wit's end. The bridge which should
lead him from the irritated sensory nerve to the irritated
motor nerve, is indicated in the labyrinthian connections
of nerve cells, but he lacks a clue to the infinitely
involved processes which are interposed in this place.
It is here the physiologist successfully changes his stand-
point. Here matter no longer reveals the secret to his
inquiring glance, but he finds it in the mirror of con-
sciousness, not directly but indirectly and figuratively,
still it is in lawful connection with what he inquires
into. Now, when observing how one idea replaces
another, how from sensations conception rises, and how
from conceptions will starts, how emotions and thoughts
interweave, he will suppose that there is a correspond-
ing series of material processes connected among each
other and accompanying the whole action of conscious
life according to the law of functionary inter-depend-
ence of matter and consciousness.
After this introduction I may venture to combine
under one aspect a long series of phenomena which are
apparently widely separated and belong partly to con-
scious, partly to unconscious life of organic nature: we
shall consider them comprehensively as results (Atisser-
ungen) of one and the same faculty of organized matter,
viz., memory, or the faculty of reproduction.
Memory, as generally understood, is merely the fac-
ulty of voluntarily reproducing ideas or a series of
ideas. Rut if faces and events of past days appear, al-
though they were not called for, and take possession of
our consciousness, do we not also call this, exactly as
much, remembering? We are justly entitled to include
in the concept of memory all involuntary reproductions
of sensations, conceptions, emotions and aspirations. In
doing so, memory becomes an original faculty, being at
once the source and unification of all conscious life.
It is well known that sensual perceptions, if made
invariably or repeatedly for some time, are impressed into
what we call the memory of senses, in such a way that
often after hours, and after we have been busy with a
hundred other things, they suddenly return into our con-
sciousness in the full sensual vivacity of their original
perception. We thus experience how whole groups of
sensations, properly regulated in their connections ac-
cording to space and time, are so vividly reproduced as
to be like reality itself. This shows strikingly that after
the extinction of conscious sensations, some material
vestiges still remain in our nervous system, implying a
change of its molecular and atomic structure, by which
the nervous substance is enabled to reproduce such physi-
cal processes as are connected with the corresponding
psychical processes of sensations and perceptions.
Everyone may observe such phenomena of the
memory of senses in his daily, even his hourly experi-
ence, although in fainter forms. Consciousness produces
legions of more or less faded memorial pictures {Erin-
nernngsbi/dcr) of former sensual perceptions. Partly
they are called in voluntarily and partly they crowd in
THE OPEN COURT.
*43
spontaneously. Faces of absent persons come and go
as pale and volatile shadows, and sounds of melodies
which long have died away haunt us, if not audible, yet
perceptible.
Of many things and events, especially if they were
perceived only once or very superficially, merely single,
unusually striking qualities are reproducible; of other
things only those qualities are reproducible which have
been noticed on former occasions, because our brain was
prepared for their reception beforehand. They are
responded to stronger and enter into consciousness more
easily and energetically. Thus their ability of being
reproduced increases. In this way what is common to
many things and accordingly has been perceived most
frequently, will be by and by so reproducible as to be
easily called forth by a slight inner impulse without
any exterior and real stimulus. Such a sensation which
is, as it were, produced internally, for instance the idea
of white, is not of the same vivacity as the sensation of
white color externally produced by white light. After
all it is essentially the same, but it is a weak repetition
of the same material brain process and of the same con-
scious sensation. Thus the idea of white is an almost
imperceptibly weak perception.
In this way the qualities which are common to many
things separate, as it were, from them when entering
into our memory. They attain an independent existence
in consciousness as concepts or ideas, and the whole rich
world of our concepts and ideas is constructed of these
materials of memory.
It is easily recognized that memory is not so much a
faculty of conscious as of unconscious life. What was
conscious to me yesterday and again becomes conscious
to-day, where has it been in the meantime from yester-
day until to-day? It did not continue as a fact of con-
sciousness and yet it returned. Our concepts appear on
the stage of consciousness very transiently; they quickly
disappear behind the scenes in order to make place for
others. Only on the stage they are conceptions, as an
actor is king only on the stage. As what do they con-
tinue behind the scene? For that they exist somehow
we know; a clue only is required to make them reap-
pear. They do not continue as conceptions, but as a
certain disposition of nervous substance (Stimmung der
Nerven substanz) by virtue of which the same sound
may again be evoked to-day which was produced yes-
terday.
Innumerable reproductions of organic processes in
our cerebral substance constantly join each other accord-
ing to certain laws, one in its turn stimulating another.
But the phenomenon of consciousness is not necessarily
connected with each link in such a series of processes.
Accordingly, chains of conceptions sometimes seem to
lack a right connection if they are conveyed to the
cerebral substance through a process not accompanied
by consciousness. Therefore, also, a long series of ideas
may follow the correct logical order and organic struc-
ture, although the diverse premises, indispensable in
such combination, did not become conscious at all.
Some ideas emerge from the depth of unconscious life
into consciousness without being connected with any
conscious conception, others sink into unconsciousness
without ever having been joined to conscious ideas.
Between what I am to-day and what I was yester-
day, a gap of unconsciousness lies, the nocturnal sleep
and it is only memory which spans a bridge between my
to-day and my yesterday. Who can hope to unravel
the manifold and intricately intertwined tissues of inner
life if he attempts to follow only the threads as they
run through his consciousness? You may as well
gather your information about the rich organic life of
the oceanic world from those few forms which now and
then emerge from the surface of the sea merely to dis-
appear soon afterwards into the depths of the ocean.
Thus the cause which produces the unity of all sin-
gle phenomena of consciousness, must be looked for in
our unconscious life. As we do not know anything of
this except what we know from investigations of matter,
and as to a purely empirical consideration, matter and
the unconscious must be considered identical, the physi-
ologist may justly define memory in a wider sense to be
a faculty of the brain the results of which to a great
extent belong to both consciousness and no less to un-
consciousness.
Every perception of an object in space is a highly
complicated process. For instance, a white ball sud-
denly appears before my eyes. It is necessary not only
to convey the perception of white to consciousness, but
also the circular periphery of the visible ball, moreover its
globular form as may be recognized from the distribu-
tion of light and shade, then the exact distance from
my eyes must be considered and from this we form an
estimate concerning its size. What an apparatus of sen-
sations, perceptions and conclusions is apparently neces-
sary for attending to all this. And yet the actual per-
ception of the sphere is performed in a few seconds
without my becoming conscious of the single processes
which construct the whole; the result enters into my
consciousness complete.
The nervous substance faithfully preserves the
records of processes often performed. All functions
necessary for correct perception which first were done
slowly and with difficulty by a constant employment of
consciousness, are reproduced afterward summarily in an
abbreviated way and without such intensity as to push
each single link of the chain beyond the threshold of
consciousness. Such chains of unconscious nerve-pro-
cesses which at last end into a link accompanied with
consciousness, have been called unconscious chains ot
perceptions or unconscious conclusions; a name which is
1 44
THE OPEN COURT.
justifiable from the standpoint of psychology. For psy-
chology might lose sight of the soul quite frequently if
unconscious states were not taken into consideration.
To a physical consideration, however, unconscious and
material mean the same, and a physiology of the uncon-
scious is no philosophy of the unconscious.*]
Almost all movements which man performs, are a
result of long and difficult practice. The harmonious
co-operation of the different muscles, the exactly gauged
amount of work which each one must contribute to the
common labor, must be learned for most movements
with great trouble. How slowly a beginner at the
piano finds the single notes, the eye directing his fingers
to the different keys, and then how marvelous is the
play of a virtuoso. With the swiftness of thought each
note finds an easy passage through the eye to the finger
to be performed correspondingly. One quick glance at
the music suffices to make sound a whole series of
chords, and a melody which his been practiced suffi-
ciently may be played while the player's attention is
directed to other subjects.
In such a case will no longer directs each single
finger to produce the desired movements, and no close
attention is needed to watch the whole execution care-
fully. Will is only commander-in-chief. Will issues
an order and all muscles act accordingly. They work
on as long as they move in their customary tracks, till
a slight hint of will prescribes another direction.
This would be impossible, if those parts of the
central nervous system which bring about the move-
ment, were not capable of reproducing entire series of
states of irritation. When they have been practiced
before under a constant accompaniment of conscious-
ness, they can be called forth, as it were, independently
on a slight provocation of consciousness which is
executed the quicker and more perfect, the oftener
reproductions have been repeated. All this is possible
only if they remember what they did before. Our
perceptive faculty would forever remain on the low-
est stage, if we should build every single perception
consciously from all given single materials of sensation.
Our voluntary motions would never surpass the awkward-
ness of a child, if in each case we should instigate the dif-
ferent single impulses with conscious will and reproduce
all the single conceptions over again. To state it briefly,
if the nervous motor system were not endowed with
memory, viz., an unconscious memory. What is called
the power of custom Die Atacht der Gewohnheit is the
strength of this memory.
It is memory to which we owe all we are and have.
Ideas and conceptions are products of it, each percep-
tion, each thought, each motion is carried by it.
Memory unites all the innumerable single phenomena
* This is a thrust against Eduard von Hartmann's Philosophy oj the Uncon-
cious.
of consciousness into one entirety ; and as our body
would be dispersed into myriads of atoms, if it were not
held together by the attraction of matter; thus, but for the
binding power of memory, consciousness would be dis-
solved into as many fragments as there are moments.
We have seen that only a part of the reproduction
of organic processes, as brought about through the
memory of nervous substance, enters into our conscious-
ness; no less unimportant parts remain unconscious. And
the same may be proved from numerous facts with re-
gard to those parts of the nervous system which are ex-
clusively subservient to the unconscious processes of life.
For the memory or reproductive faculty of the so-called
sympathetic nervous system is by no means weaker than
that of the brain and the spinal cord. Medical art to a
great extent, makes good use of it.
In concluding this part of my investigation let me
drop the subject of nervous substance for a moment in
order to take a cursory view of other organic matter,
where we meet with the same reproductive faculty, but
in a simpler form.
Daily experience teaches us that muscles grow the
stronger the oftener they are used. Muscle fibre, which
in the beginning but feebly responded to the irritation
of a motor nerve, works with more energy the oftener
it is irritated in reasonable intervals of rest. After each
single action it becomes more capable of action, it grows
fitter for the repetition of the same work and better
adapted to the reproduction of the same organic process.
Pari passu, its size increases because it assimilates more
than in a state of constant rest.
This is the very same faculty of reproduction the
action of which is so complicated in nervous substance;
here it is observable in its simplest form, and easier
understood as a physical process. And what is more
accurately known of muscle substance is more or less
clearly demonstrable of the substances of all other
organs. Everywhere we find an increased activity with
adequate pauses of recreation accompanied by an
increased strength of action, and organs which are used
oftener in the animal household also grow in size by an
increased assimilation. But this increase of mass does
not only mean an aggrandizement and growth of the
single cells or fibres of which the organ is composed,
but also an augmentation of their number. A cell
grown to a certain size divides into filial cells which
inherit, in a greater or less degree, the qualities of the
parental cell, and accordingly represent repetitions of it.
This growth and augmentation of cells is one of the
different functions which are characteristic of organized
matter. These functions are not only interior phenom-
ena of the cell substance, not only certain changes or
motions of its molecular structure, but also become
externally visible as a modification of form, an aggran-
dizement of size or a division of the cell. Thus the
THE OPEN COURT.
H5
reproductive function of a cell is manifested also as a
reproduction of the cell itself. This is most obvious in
plants; the chief function of their cells is the work of
growth, while in animal organisms other functions are
predominant.
(to be continued.)
HERBERT SPENCER AS A THINKER.
BY RICHARD A. PROCTOR.
In considering the philosophy of Herbert Spencer,
I scarcely know whether I am more moved by his
strength and power or by his grace and versatility, until
I reflect that these latter qualities are but tokens of the
former. He could not pass with so firm and free a
tread over so a wide a range of thought were it not for
the energy of mind which has enabled him to take all
thought for his domain.
Yet herein has lain the secret of the doubts which
many have quite honestly entertained respecting Her-
bert Spencer's real position among (or rather above) the
philosophers the world has known. Specialists have
been apt to weigh his philosophy in parcels, comparing
his biology with the biology of a Darwin or a Huxley;
his physicial science with that of a Thomson or a
Tyndall; his mathematics with that of a Pierce or a
Cayley, and so forth — not noting that with him each
department of science has supplied but its due quota of
material towards the building up of a philosophy which
depends on all the sciences, while including also what is
as yet outside the scientific domain. If we compare
Herbert Spencer, in any department of science, with
some chief master in that department, we find him at
once less and greater: less in knowledge of details and
in mastery of facts and methods; greater in that he sees
outside and beyond the mere details of that special sub-
ject, and recognizes the relation of its region of inquiry
to the much wider domain over which his own philosophy
extends. Thus, comparing Spencer even with Darwin— -
the Newton of biology — we see that the biological field
over which Darwin and his followers have extended
their survey, is in reality but a small part of the domain
over which Herbert Spencer has searched for the evi-
dence of evolution and dissolution. If the Darwinian
theory be summarized (as, indeed, in all its essential
features it was summarized by Spencer himself, who
independently recognized its validity) we find it pre-
senting but a finite example, within a special depart-
ment, of that universal law, unlimited alike in time and
space, which Herbert Spencer presents thus:
'■'■The rhythm of evolution and dissolution, complet-
ing- itself during- short periods in small aggregates,
and in the vast aggregates distributed through space
completing itself in periods -which are i?nmeasurable
by human thought is, so far as ive can sec, universal
and eternal, each alternating phase of the process
predominating, now in this region of space, and now
in that, as local conditions determ ne."
Yet one cannot but pause when contemplating Her-
bert Spencer's work in departments of research, to note
with wonder how he has been enabled, by mere clear-
ness of insight, to discern truths which escaped the notice
of the very leaders in those special subjects of inquiry.
To take astronomv, for example, a subject which, more
perhaps than anv other, requires long anil special study
before the facts with which it deals can be rightly inter-
preted, Spencer reasoned justly respecting the most dif-
ficult, as well as the highest of all subjects of astronom-
ical research, the architecture ol the stellar system, when
the Herschels, Ar go, and Humboldt adopted or accepted
erroneous views. In this particular matter 1 had a note-
worthy illustration of the justice of a remark made
(either bv Youmans or Fiske, I forget which) at the
Spencer banquet in New York a few years ago: "In
every department of inquiry even the most zealous
specia'ists must take the ideas of Herbert Spencer into
consideration." After long and careful study specially
directed to that subject, I advanced, in 1869, opinions
which I supposed to be new respecting the architecture
of the heavens, — opinions which Spencer himself, in his
Study of Sociology, has described as " going far to
help us in conceiving the constitution of our own gal-
ax}- ;" yet I found that twelve years before, dealing
with that part of science in his specially planned survey
of the whole domain, he had seen clearly many of the
points on which I insisted later, and had found in such
points sufficient evidence to lead him to correct views
respecting the complexity and variety of the sidereal
system.
In Spencer's power of getting at broad general
truths we find a sufficient answer to the somewhat cap-
tious objection that in matters of detail he often errs.
Every specialist, I suspect, can find mistakes in Herbert
Spencer's detailed references to special subjects. But his
mistakes are never such as to affect the trulh of his gen-
eral views. One might as reasonably consider them
defects in his philosophy, as one might object to a survey
of some continent or country that it pictured cities, towns,
and villages as circles, though not one of them is pre-
cisely circular in shape.
It is, however, as a founder of a school ot ethics
that Herbert Spencer is chiefly honored by those who
understand and love his philosophy, in this character
that he is disliked (nay, hated) by those who do not and
cannot understand him.
The ethical system of Herbert Spencer in its careful
discrimination between the duties men owe to them-
selves and those which they owe to others, is far in
advance of that system, which many, calling it " Chris-
tian teaching," fondly imagine to be a system of pure
altruism. To these dreamers the system taught in
146
THE OPEN COURT.
Spencer's Data of Ethics seems comparatively selfish
tinctured at least by what they call worldly wisdom, —
in a tone implying that wisdom belonging to another
world than ours must be much better for us than wis-
dom only useful here. One would not willingly speak
with contempt of teachings which had their origin in
the minds of earnest and unselfish men, anxious to teach
their fellows the secret of happiness. " Come unto me,
all ye that labor and are heavy laden," was their cry
ages before the time of Christ, "and I will give you
rest," and rest was to be found as it seemed to them
in the love of others, in disregard of self, in forgiveness
of injuries, and in taking no thought for the morrow.
Poverty was no longer to be held a reason for disquiet;
meekness and humility were to be regarded as chief
amono- the virtues, and men were to deem themselves
happy when their fellows spoke ill of them and they
were evil entreated. Doubtless herein lay one way
towards content and therefore towards happiness. The
golden rule of Hillel (Confucius gave it in the same
negative form) "Do not to others what ye would not
men should do to you," is at least a rule by which much
unhappiness may be avoided by the individual man,
unphilosophical as the rule may be in itself. A kind of
peace, and with it a kind of happiness, may be secured
by turning the right cheek to him who has smitten the
left; by yielding the cloak to him who has taken the
coat; by going two miles with him who would have
forced you to go with him but one. And most assuredly
amono- men who follow this particular way to secure
peace and quiet, it may be said with truth, " Blessed are
the poor in spirit," for they and they alone can inherit
and enjoy the kingdom of heaven — as thus imagined.
In one sense this ethical system needs no attacking.
It never has been adopted or followed save by a minor-
ity so small as not to be worth considering. The very
last to follow it have been those who have seemed most
earnest in teaching it, and who, indeed, have doubtless
been very earnest in teaching it to others, seeing that, as
a doctrine for others to follow, it commends itself most
to the least altruistic minds. If the ethical doctrine
taught by Herbert Spencer had no other claims to our
regard it would be worthy of our warmest esteem in
this, that it is a system in which precept and practice can
be reconciled. It is not a system which selfishly teaches
unselfishness. It is not a system which teaches as a
duty the setting aside of duty. It does not enjoin men
to seek their own comfort by rewarding iniquity. It
does not tell men that neglect of self is a virtue merely
because it is a way of escaping trouble. Instead of say-
ing, " Resist not evil," it teaches that it is each man's
duty to resist wrong-doing to the uttermost in so far as
lies within his power; not as moved by anger or by
hate (unless where anger and hate are necessary ele-
ments of strenuous opposition to evil), but because evil
would thrive if unresisted, and few evils among men
can be destroyed unless zealously opposed. So far from
telling men to take no thought for the morrow, this
worthier ethical system teaches that only the savage and '
the uncultured can be forgiven (even as young children
are forgiven) for that careless disregaid of the future
which trusts the welfare of the thoughtless to the care
of the provident.
The most characteristic feature of Spencer's moral
teaching is found, however, not so much in what it
inculcates as in the account it gives of the origin of rules
of conduct, and especially of our ideas in regard to what
is morally right and morally wrong. It is here that
Spencer's philosophy has its chief interest for thought-
ful minds, while also herein lies its chief defect in the
eyes of the shallow-minded. He has set as the great
object he has had in view throughout all his work, the
application of the principles of evolution to the discus-
sion of the rules by which the conduct of men should be
guided. He has shown that all the rules by which the
conduct of men actually is guided have had their origin
in processes of evolution, — this being true not only of
rules which seem good in themselves, but of others
which seem the reverse, precisely as the attractive and
preservative qualities of various forms of animal and
vegetable life had their origin in evolution as certainly
as those which seem unpleasant and destructive. The
ferocity of the lion is as surely a product of evolution as
the gentleness of the gazelle; the cowardly cruelty of
the wolf came into existence through the struggle for
life as surely as the courage and self-devotion of the dog,
man's best friend among the animals. The sense of loy-
alty and duty, of good faith and justice, grows stronger
as communities advance from savagery toward the bet-
ter forms of civilization. To recognize this growing
sense of right and duty as a product of evolution is a
necessary step toward recognizing the ways by which
the development of the better rules of conduct may be
encouraged. But to the lower and less reasoning types
of mind these views of conduct seem degrading. They
would rather imagine virtue to be some ethereal essence
not depending on reasoning but on the emotions, not a
product of development but of some divine creative
force. As reasonably might the health of body be so
regarded, and all that the study of the human body has
taught of the dependence of health on regimen be
regarded as degrading to the higher man.
What has been the outcome of Herbert Spencer's
moral philosophy? What has been the lesson resulting
from his pursuance of what he has described as " his
ultimate purpose, lying behind all proximate pur-
poses," the recognition of " a scientific basis for the
principles of right and wrong in conduct at large?" I
take it that he has obtained the best answer yet gained
by man to the vain yet ever-recurring question, " Is life
THE OPEN COURT.
147
worth living ?" I am not concerned to decide whether, on
the whole, life is a gain or a loss. It does not seem to me
that Spencer's ethical system really depends on any
such decision. The results, as regards conduct, would
be the same (whatever the difference in our estimate of
their value) whether life were, on the whole, a blessing
or, on the whole, the reverse. Hillel answered the
Mullocks of his day, "It is idle to ask whether life is
worth living-, seeing that we live." Even so Spencer may
answer those who question whether an ethical system
depending on the struggle for life, is worthy of adop-
tion. The struggle for life goes on independently of
all question whether life is good or bad, of all opinion
whether with time life may or may not be made better
and happier. The outcome of Spencer's philosophy
remains — that happiness is to be sought by each — the
happiness of self as a duty to others as well as to self,
the happiness of others as a duty to self as well as to
them — happiness as a means, happiness as the chief end.*
It remains only that I should touch on the question
of belief in a future life and faith in a Supreme Power
outside ourselves, as presented by Herbert Spencer, or
rather as suggested in his philosophy. That Spencer
nowhere describes as known what is and must ever
remain unknowable, need hardly be said. It is the
essence of his mode of thinking that he strives always
to see and to describe things as they are. He nowhere
denies the possibility of a future life, though he shows
abundantly the nothingness of the evidence on which
the common belief in a future life has been basedy. And,
in like manner, he nowhere denies the possibility of a
personal deity, though he repeatedly insists on the inhe-
rent folly of all those teachings which are based on
imagined knowledge, not only of the personality of an
Almighty Power, but of the nature of that power's per-
sonal plans and purposes. His whole doctrine is sum-
marized in the thought that —
Under the appearances which the universe presents
to our senses, there persists unchanging in quantity,
but ei'er-ckanging in form and ever-transcending
human know/edge and conception, an u>iknoivn and
uuknozvable power, which ive are obliged to recognise
as without limit in space and zvithout begiiuiing or
end in time.
True, as the positivist, Frederick Harrison, has
suggested, there is in this thought none of that comfoit
under affliction which the childhood of religion found
in the pretended interventions of priesthood between
* I repc.it just here what I wrote, umier the assumed name of Thomas
Foster, in the pa^cs of my monthly magazine, Knowledge, and whatmv friend
the late Prof. E. S. Youmans reprinted, not knowing I was the author, in the
Popular Science Monthly, where possibly some readers of these page^ may
have noticed the passage, A somewhat amu>ing result of the appearance of the
Foster papers was that I, as Richard A. Proctor, was requested by an admirer
of Spencer (the Rev. MinotJ. Savage) to meetmyself as Thomas Foster, at
a Spencerian gathering.
■f Common opinion, in matters depending on individual judgment, is abso-
lutely certain — where decision is difficult — to be cot mon error.
man and God, — though, to say truth, the religion of
humanity which positivism calls on us to accept fails no
less completely (for the thought that there have been
great human minds affords no comfort under great
human trials). But we are to consider that when races
of man are passing through childhood the comforts
found in contradictory theologies are real enough as
comforts, vain though they are as philosophy; while
races which have reached the fullness of their manhood
may safely put away childish things and man-like learn
" to suffer and be strong;."
FREE-THOUGHT IN ENGLAND.
BY HYPATIA BRADLAUGH BONNER.
In 1SS3 the state of the law relating to blasphemy
in England attracted much public attention. In the
March of that year Messrs. Foote, Ramsey and Kemp
were tried before Mr. Justice North and a common jury
for having published a blasphemous libel. They were
convicted and sentenced to scandalously heavy terms of
imprisonment. Later in the same year Mr. Bradlaugh
was prosecuted with Messrs. Foote and Ramsey and
tried before Lord Chief Justice Coleridge and a special
jury. Mr. Bradlaugh was tried separately and acquitted.
As in his case it was merely the question of publication
and not of the matter published that was tried, no state-
ment of the law of blasphemy was then made, but in the
case of Messrs. Foote and Ramsey it was the character
of the published matter and not the fact of publication
that the court was called upon to decide. The Lord
Chief Justice stated his view of the law in his summing
up and this created such an extraordinary impression
among the public and was so much questioned by some
of the judges that he felt called upon to publish it in
pamphlet form.
In his summing up Lord Coleridge said that the law
grows and Christianity is no longer " part of the law of
the land;" all through he laid down most distinctly that
the offense of blasphemy is in the manner of attacking
Christianity and not in the attack itself; the offense lies
in the form and not in the substance. It is " absolutely
untrue," he said, that the mere denial of Christianity is
a blasphemous libel; the denial of the truth of the
Christian religion is not alone enough to constitute the
offense of blasphemy. " If the decencies of controversy
be observed even the fundamentals of religion may be
attacked without a person being guilty of a blasphemous
libel." In concluding his summing up Lord Coleridge
turned to the jury and bade them take the publications
and look at them, " if you think they are permissible
attacks on the religion of the country you will find the
defendants not guilty, * * * but if you think
that they do not come within the most liberal and
largest view that anyone can give of the law as it exists
now, then find them guilty."
148
THE OPEN COURT.
Such an expression of opinion on the law relating to
blasphemy coming as it did from so high an authority
as the Chief Judge of England, caused much discussion
among botli the learned and the unlearned, and in the
following March an article on the subject appeared in
the Fortnightly Review, from the erudite pen of Mr.
Justice Stephen. Mr. Justice Stephen while admiring
the summing up, feared " that its merits may be trans-
ferred illogically to the law which it expounds and lays
down, and that thus a humane and enlightened judgment
may tend to perpetuate a bail law by diverting the
public attention from its defects. The law I regard as
essentially and fundamentally bad."
Mr. Justice Stephen accepted Blackstone's definition
of the offense of blasphemy* as accurate, and quoted
from several of the leading authorities in support of
his opinion. He disliked the law profoundly anil
also so thoroughly that in order that other people
might see how bad it was, he determined to state it
" in its natural naked deformity." He pointed out that
a large part of our most serious and most impor-
tant literature of the day is illegal; the selling or
lending of Comte's Positive Philosophy, of Renan's Vie
de Jesus is punishable by fine and imprisonment. He
took a particular instance to bring the revolting nature
of the law home to his readers. " The late Mr. Greg,"
he said, " was not only a distinguished author but an
eminent and useful member of the Civil Service. I
suppose he was educated as a Christian, and no one
could have a stronger sympathy with the moral s.'de of
Christianity. In every one of his works the historical
truth of the Christian history is denied, and so is the
Divine authority of the Old and New Testament. If
he had been convicted of publishing these opinions, or
even of expressing them to a friend in private conversa-
tion, his appointment would have become void and he
would have been ' adjudged incapable and disabled in law
to hold any office or employment whatever;' in a word
he would have lost his income and his profession. Upon
a second conviction, he must have been imprisoned for
three years and incapacitated, among other things, to
sue or accept any legacy. About this there neither is
nor can be any question whatever." Mr. Justice Ste-
phen concluded his able article by urging the repeal of
the blasphemy laws.
The learned judge was followed by other less able
writers on both sides, but it was largely felt that while
Lord Coleridge had given a "humane and enlightened "
presentment of the law, Mr. Justice Stephen had given
an uncomfortably accurate one. This view has been
authoritatively taken by the Queen's Bench division of
* The fourth species of offense, therefore, more immediately against God
and religion, is that blasphemy against the Almightv by denying his being or
providence, or by contumelious reproaches of our Savior Christ. Whither
also may be referred all profane scoffing at the Holy Scripture or exposing it to
contempt or ridicule."
the High Court of Justice in the recent case of Pank-
hurst vs. Thompson, in which it was held by Mr. Baron
Huddleston and Mr. Justice Manisby that a mere denial
of Christianity was an indictable offense without refer-
ence to the manner of the denial.
Consequently Mr. Courtney Kenny, M. P., has-
introduced a bill into the present Parliament on lines
drafted by Mr. Justice Stephen, for "the abolition of
prosecutions against laymen for the expression of
opinion on matters of religion." The bill is powerfully-
backed by Mr. Illingworth and Mr. Crossley, leading-
Nonconformists, and Mr. Bernard Coleridge, son of the
Lord Chief Justice, whose recent visit to the United
States will have made his name familiar to the Ameiican.
public. Mr. Courtney Kenny is himself a most able
man, and was for a long time law lecturer at Downing
College, Cambridge. When the bill gets into com-
mittee there is one clause which will, without doubt, be
opposed by some of those who are otherwise friendly
to the bill, probably by Mr. Bradlaugh at least. The
clause to which I refer is the third, which provides that
"any person who, with the intention of wounding the
religious feelings of any person or persons, shall in
any public place utter any word, or make any gesture,,
or exhibit any object within the hearing or sight of any
person or persons, whose religious feelings are likely
to be thereby wounded, shall be guilty of a misde-
meanor; and on being convicted thereof, shall be lia-
ble to fine or imprisonment, or both, as the court may
award, such imprisonment not to exceed the term of
one year"
This provision is borrowed from the Indian code,,
and there is no doubt that it has worked very well in
India, where there are Mohammedans, Hindoos and other
opposing sects, and where it has prevented the Chris-
tian missionary from making himself too offensive to
the natives. But it is not at all likely that such a clause
would work well here in England, where the circum-
stances are so entirely different; on the contrary it opens-
out the way to much possibility of evil.
The bill is down for its second reading for July I,,
but the coercion legislature for Ireland introduced by the
government, and the debates on the never-ending Irish
difficulties take up so much of the time of the House of
Commons, that private members' bills have very little
chance this session. At present, therefore, Free-thinkers,
and Unitarians still remain under a law which threatens
them with fine and imprisonment wheneverthey unburden
their minds on the subject of religion. It is, of course, a
well-known fact that Atheistic and Unitarian publica-
tions are issued daily, and yet they are not prosecuted.
So much obloquy attached to the prosecutions of 1S83
that they are not likely to be indulged in very often;,
nevertheless the law is there to enforce whenever there
is the evil will to enforce it. Before the Foote and
THE OPKN COURT.
149
Ramsey prosecutions people said the law was obsolete,
and pooh-poohed the idea of it being pleaded in a court
of law today; but it was pleaded, and by its minister,
Mr. Justice North, dealt out to Mr. Foote the severe
penalty, the savage punishment of twelve months'
imprisonment.
Another important bill affecting the position of Free-
- thinkers in England is also before the present Parlia-
ment, namely the bill " to amend the law as to oaths."
It consists merely of three short paragraphs which are
as follows:
1. Every person shall be permitted to make his solemn
affirmation instead of taking an oath in all places and for all pur-
poses where an oath is or shall be required by law, which affirma-
tion shall be of the same force and effect as if he had taken the
oath; and if any person making such affirmation shall wilfully,
falsely, and corruptly affirm any matter or thing which, if dis-
posed on oath, would have amounted to wilful and corrupt
perjury, he shall be liable to prosecution, indictment, sentence
and punishment in all respects as if he had committed wilful and
corrupt perjury.
2. Every such affirmation shall be as follows:
" I, A.B., do solemnly, sincerely, and truly declare and
affirm," and then proceed with the words of the oath prescribed
by law, omitting any words of imprecation or calling to witness.
3. This Act may be cited as the Affirmative Act, 1S87.
This bill was introduced on the first day of the
Parliamentary by Mr. Charles Bradlaugh and has been
down for its second reading a great many times already.
It has, however, a host of enemies to contend with, first
there is the common enemy to all home legislation — the
Irish coercion measure with all its attendant troubles;
then the Oaths Bill has its own particular religious
enemies; Roman Catholic and ultra- Protestant join
hands in opposing the Atheist. Mr. Bradlaugh puts
his bill down every night in the hope that it may come
on but as regularly as he puts it down so regularly is it
" blocked " by Mr. de Lisle, a Roman Catholic, or by
Mr. Johnston, an ultra-Protestant and violent opponent
of Mr. Gladstone's Home Rule Bill for Ireland, or some
other blind intolerant zealot. There is a rule in the
House known as "the half-past twelve rule" which
provides that opposed measures shall not be taken after
half-past twelve at night, and when a member goes
through the form of putting his name down as opposer
to a bill, he is said to have " blocked " it because he has
prevented it from being taken after half-past twelve.
It is exceedingly unlikely that an ordinary bill would
come on before that hour unless there should be some
break-down in the appointed business for the night.
The Oaths Bill is backed by Sir John Simon, a Jew;
Mr. Courtney Kenny, whom I have already mentioned
as the introducer of the bill against blasphemy ; Mr.
Burt, the trusted representative of the Northumberland
miners; Mr. Coleridge, the son of the Lord Chief
Justice; Mr. Illingworth, a very prominent English Dis-
senter; Mr. Richard, leader of the Welsh Noncon-
formists and Mr. Jesse Collings. Sir John Simon had
charge of the Oaths Bill in the former Parliament,
before Mr. Bradlaugh was permitted to take his seat in
the House of Commons, but his bill was far less com-
prehensive than the present one. Mr. Hopwood, Q. C,
now Recorder of Liverpool, was the first person to have
charge of the bill which arose out of the objections
made for political purposes by the Tory party, first to
Mr. Bradlaugh's taking an affirmation of allegiance
when he entered the House as duly elected member for
the borough of Northampton, and next, to his " profan-
ing" the oath. The judges decided that Mr. Bradlaugh
had no right to affirm and the Tories, supported by a
number of weak Liberals and by the whole of the Irish
party, determined he should not take the oath. How-
ever, bigotry — whether real or assumed for political
purposes — was vanquished at last, and as everyone
knows, Mr. Bradlaugh is now sitting in the House
doin^ his full share of work.
MIND-READING, ETC.
MINOT J. SAVAGE.
The editors of this paper ask me for an article con-
taining " the results of your, observation and experience
in regard to mind-reading."
Now to be suddenly called on for all one knows
about any subject is somewhat embarrassing. One has
the comfort, to be sure, of feeling that it will not take
him long to tell, and the cost of paper will be so much
less than it would be should he attempt to tell all he does
not know. But still there are so many things one half
knows, or thinks he knows, though as yet he can give
no scientific proof. Then one wants to give so many-
reasons for not knowing more, or for opinions that as
yet are not quite certain. No, it is no easv task to tell
even the little that one knows.
Then there is another thing that concerns these in-
vestigations on the border-land, that the members of
the Society for Psychical Research do not take sufficient
account of. Through circulars, and in other ways, the
committees call loudly for evidence, asking all who have
any facts to submit them for examination and judg-
ment. But it has happened, through my known interest
in and sympathetic treatment of these questions, that
large numbers of cases have come to my knowledge
that the Society will never hear of. And the reason for
this ought to be noted. And public investigators ought
to take account of th's reason. No one should suppose
that nothing is going on because it is not submitted to
the inspection of those who call loudest for it.
The reason for keeping these things back is two-
fold:
1. Many of the things that occur are of a private,
personal character. It is quite natural that this should
be so. Such things are held as sacred. People would
*5°
THE OPEN COURT.
as soon publish their private griefs as give these things
to the world.
2. Then the attitude of the investigators is often a
most unfortunate one. It has always seemed to me that
it is absurd for a man to investigate a thing, the very
■possibility of which he denies before he begins. If a
man does not believe of course he gives no testimony in
favor. If he does believe he is treated as a "crank " and
his testimony is ruled out. So long as one knows tbat
he is to be met in this spirit — that he will be looked on
as a lunatic, to be treated with a superior kind of pity and
tenderness, or with the blunt brutality that says, "You
may mean all right, but you are a fool " — so long circu-
lars asking for information will be likely to find the
waste-basket.
I have taken the liberty of heading this article
"Mind Reading, Etc" I mean that the "Etc" shall
be the larger part of it. Or, to speak more accurately,
I wish to make it an open door through which I may
go out and wander through this border-land at will.
That mind-reading, thought-transference, or some-
thing quite as inexplicable is true 1 know. My purpose
in this article then will be to make it clear that here is a
problem that challenges the. attention of rational people.
I wish, I say, to make so much clear if I can. And yet I
am not ready to publish more than hints or fragments
of facts that lead me to express the certainty to which I
have given utterance. But the principal thing that rea-
sonable people need at present to know is that there are
facts that as yet find no place in our generally accepted
scientific theories.
The present condition of affairs is a scandal both to
science and philosophy. Here are thousands of sane
persons asserting that wonderful psychic facts are of
daily occurrence. Their statements are either true or
false. If false, here is at least a huge delusion from
which it is worth while that these people be set free.
The statements of these persons are accepted without
question on all other subjects. And these things are
not like one's theological opinions, that are taken on
faith, and that those who disbelieve them are accustomed
tacitlv to ignore. They are offered as facts that are
open to investigation. I am aware that a few persons,
in a half-and-half sort of way, arc investigating, but it
seems to me that something more than this is needed.
If these asserted facts take place then they change our
scientific theories of human nature and human destiny.
If not then there are other and more important things
to engage oir thought and time. I believe then that
this is a question worthy the most serious attention.
But my experience with so-called "scientific"
investigators leads me to think that, as there are "odds
in deacons," so there are odds In "scientific" investiga-
tors. Some of them arc scientific; and others are such
bundles of prejudices and preconceptions that their
claims to be scientific in these inquiries are simply
ludicrous. Their demands and their proposed tests
seem to me as absurd as would be the position of a man
who would net believe in electricity because it would
not ignore its own laws and, just to please him, work
through a rail fence instead of a wire.
I plead then, not only for an investigation of these
things, but for a little unbiassed study of conditions, — .
the same as would be rational in other departments of
study.
Now for a few hints as to the kinds of facts that
need to be explained.
The mind-reading committee of the English Society
for Psychical Research thinks tbat the fact of thought-
transference has been established. Their experiments,
however, are before the public; and all those interested
can review their work and pass judgment on it at will.
The thoroughness of their work has been questioned
on this side the Atlantic, and their conclusions impeached.
I am inclined, however, to accept the fact itself as
established. But my acceptance is based not so much,
perhaps, on the evidence they offer, as on the fact that I
am sure that things quite as wonderful have occurred in
my own experience. When once a general truth is
established in one's own mind, he does not require so
much evidence as he did before to lead him to accept
some special case that may be reported.
I was a good deal impressed at one time, with the
so-called mind-reading experiments of Mr. W. Irving
Bishop. I have had many private experiments with
him that seemed very wonderful. But Mr. Montague
(one of the editorial staff of the Globe of this city) has
duplicated nearly all of Mr. Bishop's wonders, and
claims that he does it by means of the unconscious guid-
ance of the subject. I do not feel quiet sure that all of
Mr. Bishop's work can be explained in this way. And
yet I do not rely on any of these things as giving satis-
factory proof of actual thought-transference.
I will now give a few brief hints of some occur-
rences that, to my mind, establish the fact that there are
some things for which our present theories of man and
nature furn sh no explanation.
The facts of hypnotism are somewhat familiar to all
those who have given any attention to this class of
studies. But not all these, I think, are aware that some
hypnotic subjects are clairvoyant and can see and report
things with which even the operator is not acquainted.
During private experiments in my own study, strange
powers have been exercised, for which I know of no
explanation.
Then, as the result of private experiments, I am
sure of the manifestation of some force that is able to
move physical objects. The circumstances have been
such that no muscular pressure, conscious or unconscious,
could account for the movements.
THE OPEN COURT.
iS1
I am acquainted with no end of cases where people
have been told things that the persons who told them
(or through whom they were told?) did not know.
More than once I have had a person hold an
unopened letter in her hand and tell me about the one
who wrote it in the most detailed and unmistakable way.
In sitting with a personal friend, not a recognized or
public " medium," I have, over and over again, been
told things that it was impossible the friend should ever
have known.
And — most unaccountable of all — I have had this
same friend tell me of things that were occurring at the
time in another State, and concerning which neither of
us could, by any possibility, have had any knowledge.
These have been so personal and peculiar as to make
all theories of guess-work or coincidence so extremely
improbable that impossible seems the proper word to
use.
To tell the story of my experiments in any fulness
would require a volume. Are these things mind-read-
ing? Are they telepathy ? What are they ? That they
are facts I know.
FREDERICK DOUGLASS IN PARIS.
BY THEODORE STANTON.
During the recent sojourn of Mr. and Mrs. Frederick
Douglass in Paris it was my good fortune to meet the
celebrated orator and reformer on many and different
occasions, and I propose in this letter to report discreetly
some of his sayings and doings.
Mr. Douglass, even amidst the new attractions of
an European capital, never seems to forget that he is
the champion of an oppressed race. " One of the rea-
sons why I so much like France and the French," he
said to me one day, " is because the negro is not the butt
of ridicule here as he is in the United States. There
are no minstrel shows in Paris, and at the Louvre and
Luxembourg Galleries and elsewhere I find that the
public treats the African as an equal fellow-being. '1 he
occasional bandana is here considered one of the pictur-
esque features of the boulevards and classed with the
becoming headgear of the natty peasant girls from the
provinces. No Frenchman ever snickers at the black
face that sets off the parti-colored handkerchief." When
Mr. Douglass stood in front of Gustave Dora's statue of
Alexandre Dumas, on the Place Malesherbes, the artistic
qualities of the monument failed to move him. He re-
membered how this son of a negress had never spoken
a word or written a line in defense of his mother's race.
" Let us go and see the statue of Lamartine," he ex-
claimed one afternoon; "he said some fine things."
And when we reached the Place Lamartine Mr. Doug-
lass cared but little for the masterly way in which the
sculptor has grouped the legs of the chair, dog and
man ; his mind was dwelling on the fact that the
poet-President signed in 1S48 the decree that freed all
the slaves of the French colonies, and his eyes were at-
tracted by the resemblance of Lamartine's face to that
of Lincoln.
Probably his two meetings with M. Victor Schoel-
cher, the William Lloyd Garrison of France, left a
deeper impression on Mr. Douglass' mind than any
other event that happened to him while in Paris, for it
was Senator Schoolcher's long and indefatigable efforts
that finally secured the abolition of negro servitude in
the French possessions. I was present when this grand
old octogenarian recounted the history of his life work,
which seemed to carry Mr. Douglass back to the ante
helium struggle in the United States. M. Schcelcher
then asked many questions about the anti-slavery con-
flict in our country, with which he is remarkably well
acquainted, and criticised severely Mr. Lincoln's course.
Thereupon Mr. Douglass defended Mr. Lincoln, ex-
plained to M. Schcelcher the difficult position in which
the President was placed, and closed his apology with
these words: "Mr. Lincoln was better inside than out-
side."
Mr. Douglass tells many interesting anecdotes of
Lincoln. The following one he very naturally enjoys
recounting: During the war Mr. Douglass was paying
his respects to the President at the White House, when
Governor Buckingham, of Connecticut, was announced.
Mr. Lincoln thereupon called out to the servant in his
high-pitched tone : " Tell Governor Buckingham to
wait; 1 want to have a good talk with Mr. Douglass."
"And we did have a good talk," said Mr. Douglass as
he told us the anecdote the other day, " for Mr. Lincoln
kept me half an hour longer. This circumstance made
an impression on me, for not often in my life have I
kept a Governor waiting, and a ' War Governor ' at
that."
"The delegates to the famous Union Convention
held in August, 1S66," continued Mr. Douglass, " didn't
treat me like Mr. Lincoln. I was sent to that Phila-
delphia gathering to represent the city of Rochester,
but before reaching my destination I was met by a com-
mittee that boarded the train and begged me not to enter
the convention. They dwelt upon an important election
then pending in Indiana, spoke of the conservative dele-
gates to the convention, and expressed fear that the pres-
ence of a colored man would give Indiana to the Demo-
crats and send home a certain number of the members.
But I declined to return to Rochester, being convinced
that the fears of the committee were not well founded,
and results proved that I was correct. When we were
forming in procession to march to the hall, I noticed
that everybody was afraid of me. Even Henry Wilson
was reserved. General Butler was almost the only man
who gave me a hearty welcome. As the delegates
paired off and fell into line, it looked for a moment as
!52
THB OPEN COURT.
though I should have to walk by myself. But it was
not the first time that I had stood alone and so I was not
troubled on this score. As the band struck up and the
volume moved off an arm was suddenly locked in mine
and I found Theodore Tilton at my side. And I must
add that all through the streets of Philadelphia it was
Theodore Tilton and his humble companion who
awakened the most enthusiasm and cheers."
When Mr. Douglass came to Paris it was but natu-
ral, therefore, that he should hunt up his old friend, and
the tall forms and silvered hair of Frederick Douglass
and Theodore Tilton have, during the past autumn,
attracted scarcely less attention on the boulevards
of the French capital than their well-known faces
did just twenty years ago on the streets of the
Quaker City. They have gone together to St. Cloud,
to the Palace of the Archives, to the Trocadin Museum
and to many of the other interesting spots in and
around Paris. " You should have seen our aston-
ished Frederick on the top of Notre Dame," wrote
Mr. Tilton to me last November. " Coming unexpect-
edly' into the grotesque presence of the grinning gar-
goyles! In fact these fantastic figures are the merriest
company of imps, demons, goblins and good devils that
I have met in this cheeriest of all cities. The true
Comedie Francaise is on top of Notre Dame!"
Although Mr. Douglass holds liberal views on re-
ligion, he did not confine his church-going while in Paris
to visits paid to the outside of the edifices. He was
present at a grand mass in Saint Eustache,but felt forced
to leave before the end of the ceremony. "The super-
stition made me sad," he remarked, in extenuation of his
conduct. He could, however, sit through Father Hya-
cinthe's service Sunday after Sunday, probably because
he was held by the fascinating oratory of this wonder-
ful divine. " I think I am Father Hyacinthe's most at-
tentive listener," Mr. Douglass said to me after his first
Sabbath in the little chapel in the Rue d'Arras; "and
he appears to be of the same mind, for I notice that he
keeps his e}es on me throughout most of his sermon.
I apprehend his thoughts, although I do not understand
his language, which proves that he is a true orator."
Father Hyacinthe finally learned who was this rapt wor-
shiper, and invited him to tea. The next morning we
were seated in M. Schcelcher's study waiting for the
senator, when Mr. Douglass arose, stood behind his
chair, and began to develop his views on revealed re-
ligion with a clearness of thought and a flow of lan-
guage that was really remarkable. My only regret was
that the audience was so small. " I cannot understand,"
he said, among other things, "how Father Hyacinthe
stopped half way in his religious evolution, and when I
see him still going through the service of the Roman
Church, I reluctantly ask myself, can it be that he be-
lieves in this?" "No, of course he doesn't," interrupted
M. Schoelcher, who entered at this point; "it is only a
sentiment, just like Victor Hugo's idea of immortality.
We were standing one day at his front window discus-
sing this question of a future life," continued M. Schoel-
cher, who is a confirmed atheist, and was a close friend
of the dead poet, "when I said to him: 'Noyv, what
would be the use of saving the soul of that stupid cab-
man passing there?' ' None, whatever,' answered Vic-
tor Hugo; 'it is only such as you that I expect to see in
the next world.' I venture to say that Father Hya-
cinthe holds much the same view, if he were to express
what is in the bottom of his heart." "Father Hya-
cinthe said to me yesterday," interrupted Mr. Douglass,
" when I told him that I was coming to see you this
morning, 'Well, you are going to meet a man who
doesn't believe in heaven himself, but makes other peo-
ple believe in it.' "
Mr. Douglass delights to revert to the anti-slavery
struggle, and his anecdotes of Phillips, Garrison and the
other leaders in the abolition movement are very enter-
taining. We were crossing the Pont St. Michel one
afternoon, when Mr. Douglass stopped in the middle
and looking down into the Seine, said: " When I came
up North from slavery I found the abolitionists declar-
ing the federal constitution to be a covenant with the
Evil One. But, as soon as I got my eyes open to the
situation, I felt that we could make out a case standing
on the constitution. So I differed with them and
immediately found that I had got myself into trouble.
Mr. Garrison was especially hard on me. If you once
agreed with Garrison and then differed with him, your
position was a difficult one. But later we became good
friends again and I also had the satisfaction of seeing
the abolitionist come round to my way of thinking."
We were passing through the Passage de Choiseul
one evening, feasting our eyes on the rare books that
abound in the little shops when Mr. Douglass espied a
second-hand violin , exposed for sale in one of the
windows. We entered, he asked the price of the instru-
ment, looked at it carefully, tyvanged the strings and, as
we went out, thanked the merchant for his politeness.
" Why, do you know anything about the violin ? " I
asked of Mr. Douglass. "Certainly," was his reply; "I
have a good violin at home and often play on it. I
must tell you the first time I ever took up this instru-
ment. It was during my sojourn in London directly
after my escape from slavery. I was in very low spirits,
and as I yvas walking the streets of the vast English
capital in a most dejected mood, I noticed a violin in a
shop window just as I did that one a moment ago. In
the former instance, hoyvever, I purchased the instru-
ment, returned to my hotel, where I remained four days,
shut up in my room, striving to become familiar with
my new friend. And when I came forth again, I had
played myself in tune."
THE OPEN COURT.
lS3
A few nights after this conversation I met Mr. Doug-
lass at a little musical party where an amateur quartette
performed. Having never seen him with a violin under
his chin, and remembering what had happened and what
-was said in the Passage de Choiseul, I hinted that Mr.
Douglass be invited to play something. He at first de-
clined, but, being pressed by the company, finally took
tip the violin and rendered some plaintive Scotch airs
■with much spirit and feeling. Before we separated, one
of the guests struck up the " Marseillaise," and then it
-was that Mr. Douglass' passion for music displayed it-
self. He rose from the sofa, made his way to the piano,
and joined in this majestic national anthem just as he
must have done in the war days when "John Brown"
-was being sung.
Mr. Douglass left Paris with considerable regret, for
he bad found here many appreciative friends, both
among the English-speaking exotics and the indigenous
French. And he had begun to take a strong liking to
its people, its customs, its streets and its public monu-
ments. In fact, so deep is this attachment for the French
capital that he intends to return here in the spring, when
he shall have completed his tour in Egypt, where he
now is, and have visited Northern, as he has just done
Southern, Italy. Mr. Douglass has seen Paris in its
■somber autumnal and winter dress, and now he quite
naturally wishes to look upon it in its proverbial sum-
mer brightness.
Paris, April,
DOES AGNOSTICISM PRODUCE BETTER RESULTS
THAN CHRISTIANITY ?
BY W. L. GARRISON, JR.
I am often led to speculate on the results follow-
ing different theological beliefs. The prolonged battle
for religious freedom which gained its great impetus in
the Lutheran reformation, has in our generation and
■country nearly reached its culmination. The right of
rejecting inherited religious dogmas has by the aid of
science and free inquiry been established. Where,
thirty years ago, to avow disbelief in a Supreme Being
or in immortality was to accept social ostracism, intel-
lectual skepticism is now no bar to preferment in socie'y
or public life.
The right of unbelief is as sacred as that of crediting
traditions, and the victory is well worth the fearful cost.
The crimes perpetrated in the name of religion match
any committed for selfish ambition or national aggran-
dizement. But now we can be Baptists, Methodists,
Presbyterians, Unitarians, Spiritualists, Catholics or
■Come-outers, having no formulated religious ideas at all,
or we may deny vehemently any foundation for a super-
natural belief, and still keep our flesh from the pincers
and the flames, retain a respectable character, be ac-
cepted as good citizens and trusted as honest men.
It is a fortunate period of the world's history to live
in. The inquisition has no terrors for the dissenting
soul, and no evangelical church prays to-day that God
will put a hook into the jaws of a liberal preacher, as
was besought by Park Street Church, in the case of
Theodore Parker. Let us be thankful.
Having achieved liberty what shall we do with it?
" The virtue lies in the struggle, not the pr'ze." It is
the right to declare our unbelief, if we hold it, not the
unbelief itself that is precious. Everv sect was evolved
in trials and persecution, and to cling to a heresy under
fire was a test of manhood and moral courage. But
once successful the touchstone lost its power. Each
faith has its saints who deserve their canonization, but
traditional accepters of dearly established creeds are not
of necessity worthy of embalming.
Free religious ideas and agnosticism having won
toleration, it argues no saving grace or virtue to pro-
claim them now. They take their place in the cate-
gory of other sects or creeds, and no cross is incurred by
professing them. Thev are as likely to be the shibbo-
leth of selfishness and ambition as church membership
has been heretofore. The vital question for one anxious
to embrace a code of faith is, " Which produce^ the best
lives?" We must judge the tree by its fruit, and, com-
paring ourselves with followers of the creeds we have
outgrown, can we affirm that our larger liberty has made
us more the children of light:
A healthful mode of comparison is to study the per-
sonality of the workers in the reforms of the day. It is
our belief that human progress has always been cher-
ished and advanced by the few laborers outside the
church more than by the many professors within it.
So, for the practical exemplars of religion, we turn our
eyes naturally to the humanitarian efforts which agitate
society.
In benevolent attempts to relieve personal suffering,
religious societies have never been wanting. On the
contrary, they have been active. But their indifference
or antagonism may safely be counted upon when radi-
cal instead of palliative measures are aimed at. Radical
reform interferes with established customs and interests.
These the church considers it her function to preserve,
or at least to shield. She follows and claims the fruit of
the unselfish sowers of the seed. The ripened sheaves
are gathered by her without compunction. I laving per-
secuted the heretics she has ended with claiming the
merit of the accomplishment and when too late for the
reformer, appropriating him as a saint.
The never-ending battle for reform goes on as here-
tofore. The great temperance movement; the cause of
woman's political equality, the most far-reaching in its
results of any since the world began ; the Indian
problem ; the agiation for free trade and the abolition of the
blighting tariff; the problems of labor; the questions of
154
THE OPEN COURT.
social purity, capital punishment, prison reform; the
sublime advocacy of universal peace; in these and kin-
dred labors, are the men and women theologically eman-
cipated in the van? These are the touchstones of theo-
logical belief.
Alas, men and brethren, in the temperance move-
ment it is necessary to acknowledge that we are over-
shadowed by earnest members of the church. The won-
derful Women's Christian Temperance Union, organ-
ized and wielded so masterfully by its able leaders,
adds little glory to our faction. Indeed the agnostics
who are on the side of the brewer and the distiller are
shamefully frequent. In the woman's cause we have no
reason to blush. The ranks would miss the free reli-
gious allies. And yet it has room for more of them.
On the subject of peace they show no superior enlight-
enment over the professed followers of the Prince of
Peace. The noble Russian, Tolstoi, who gets his light
and fervor from the New Testament, preaches anew the
rejected gospel of non-resistance, the one distinctive doc-
trine that distinguishes Jesus from the messiahs of all
other religions. Where are the anti-Christians who
reach so high a level as his?
In the other social movements, 'who can assume the
"workers to be distinctively evangelical or otherwise?
Henry George wears no sectarian stamp and may per-
haps, be claimed by liberal thought. It is the custom to
sneer at and belittle him, chiefly by those who never
read his writings. The generation is making up a
judgment of him which it will have to reverse, unless
unselfishness, devotion to principle, deep-thinking, the
superb courage of unpopular convictions, and a spirit ot
humanity that underlies all, have ceased to be admira-
hle. And this I say without being able to agree alto-
gether with many of his ideas. But men who dare to
vpeak as they truly think, are far too rare to be hastily
passed by. But to match him comes that bold priest,
F: ther McGlynn. Theology, therefore, inspires neither.
If free religion is to stand for any more than a tran-
sient form of speculation, it must crystallize into practical
work. It must leave its impress not in shadowy meta-
physics, but in the work of human elevation and broth-
erly love. Until it does that it is unbecoming to assume
superior wisdom or pride itself on its liberal views.
Emancipated from a creed, we have yet some distance
to travel before we shall enter fully into that temple
-which, transcending all creeds and professions, asks
only of its worshipers that they love to eternal good-
ness and show it by helping their fellow men.
Let us not listen to those who think we ought to be
angry with our enemies, and who belies e this to be
great and manly. Nothing is more praiseworthy, and
nothing more clearly indicates a great and noble soul,
than clemency and readiness to forgive. — Anon.
The Open Court.
A Fortnightly Journal.
Published every other Thursday at 169 to 175 La Salle Street (Nixon
Building), corner Monroe Street, by
THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY
B. F. UNDERWOOD,
Editor and Manager.
SARA A. UNDERWOOD,
Associate Editor.
The leading object of The Open Court is to continue
the work of The Index, that is, to establish religion on the
basis of Science and in connection therewith it will present the
Monistic philosophy. The founder of this journal believes this
will furnish to others what it has to him, a religion which
embraces all that is true and good in the religion that was taught
in childhood to them and him.
Editorially, Monism and Agnosticism, so variously defined,
will be treated not as antagonistic systems, but as positive and
negative aspects of the one and only rational scientific philosophy,
which, the editors hold, includes elements of truth common to
all religions, without implying either the validity of theological
assumption, or any limitations of possible knowledge, except such
as the conditions of human thought impose.
The Open Court, while advocating morals and rational
religious thought on the firm basis of Science, will aim to substi-
tute for unquestioning credulity intelligent inquiry, for blind faith
rational religious views, for unreasoning bigotrv a liberal spirit,
for sectarianism a broad and generous humanitarianism. With
this end in view, this journal will submit all opinion to the crucial
test of reason, encouraging the independent discussion by able
thinkers of the great moral, religious, social and philosophical
problems which are engaging the attention of thoughtful minds
and upon the solution of which depend largely the highest inter-
ests of mankind.
While Contributors are expected to express freely their own
views, the Editors are responsible onlv for editorial matter.
Terms of subscription three dollars per vear in advance,
postpaid to any part of the United States, and three dollars and
fifty cents to foreign countries comprised in the postal union.
All communications intended for and all business letters
relating to The Open Court should be addressed to B. F.
Underwood, P. O. Drawer F, Chicago, Illinois, to whom should
be made payable checks, postal orders and express orders.
THURSDAY, APRIL 28, 1S87.
THE RELATION OF SCIENCE TO MORALS.
Knowledge increases in usefulness as it becomes
classified, in which form it is called science. Viewed
separately, wit1 out reference to their relations to one
another and to the well-being of man, facts are of but
little value to anybody. Only when they are classified
and their relations are grouped, and the processes called
laws which they indicate are understood, can we use
them to the greatest advantage. Without these general-
izations there can be no comprehensiveness of thought,
no far-reaching plans or projects, no great intellectual or
moral achievements. Man's " pre-eminence over the
beast " consists not merely in a special faculty, but in his
greater knowledge, and in his greater capacity to ac-
quire knowledge of his manifold relations to his envi-
ronment. The coming man, compared with the man of
to-day will probablv be an intellectual and moral giant;
larger knowledge of himself and the ways of nature
will be a distinguishing characteristic. True, mere
THE OPEN COURT.
i55
knowledge is no sure guarantee of moral character.
The results of ages of moral savagery ingrained in the
mental as well as in the physical constitution, may be
more powerful determinants of conduct than the intel-
lectual attainments of the individual, added to the inher-
ited tendencies derived from a few hundred years of
civilized life. Violence of passion, inborn selfishness, or
lack of sensibility even, may blind a man of great knowl-
edge to the rights, or render him indifferent to the suf-
ferings of his fellow-men. A large knowledge of many
subjects is often found in minds that are lamentably
ignorant of others which have a more direct relation to
conduct. Many, too, have a theoretical knowledge of
matters of which they are so destitute of practical
knowledge, that they are unable to realize their real
significance. Man has been learning through many
centuries, during which the horizon of his thought,
although gradually expanding has been, compared with
his outlook to-day, very circumscribed. Since it is im-
possible to sever himself from the past, he cannot divest
his mind at once of ancient beliefs, much less of their
results; nor can he in a day make new channels of
thought, or think or act in a manner wholly consistent
with newly acquired knowledge, when it conflicts with
beliefs that have profoundly influenced the thought and
life of his ancestors from whom the characteristics he
possesses have come down to him as a legacy. We
should, therefore, expect on a priori grounds that dis-
parity between intellectual attainments and moral char-
acter, conspicuous illustrations of which can be found in
any community.
It is, however, none the less true that the only natu-
ral basis for hope in man's moral progress is in his unde-
niable capacity for knowledge, — to which, in the region
of the knowable, no limit can be set, — and his ability to
methodize his knowledge and make it minister in count-
less ways to his wants and welfare.
The whole tendencv of modern civilized life is to
repress the savage instincts and traits of man's nature,
and to develop and intensify those qualities of head and
heart which appear in a late period of his development,
even now too often reduced to the weakness of their
nascent condition temporarily, by the brutality of the
savage, who attests his presence and reasserts his control
in the civilized man of the nineteeth century. Fortu-
nately the influence of constantly increasing knowledge
is eradicating the results of ages of ignorance in human
character; and when men shall become yet more eman-
cipated from their bad inherited tendencies, they will be
able not only to discover truth more easily, but to con-
form more readily to the moral relations which it
'eveals. Inconsistencies between conviction and conduct
must become less general, and creed and character more
in harmony with each other.
If a man believes that a certain course of conduct is
for his best interests, judged by his highest moral stand-
ard, he will follow that course in proportion as he is
unhampered by traits, beliefs and tendencies which
dominated in those ages of savagery in which men, not
understanding their relations to each other, were
short-sighted, acted from impulse and were strangers to
the higher sentiments and the nobler motives which de-
termine the conduct of the best men of to-day.
That men are coming to understand more fully than
they did in the past that virtue is wisdom and vice is
folly can be clearly shown. That they now understand
better than they did formerly what constitutes a virtuous
character and a vicious charactei , is sufficiently evident
from a comparison of the ethical views of the best teach-
ers of this age, with the best among the ancients. That
men live more morally now than in the past is evident
from a comparison of this age with that of Pericles or
Augustus, of Elizabeth or George III. That knowl-
edge is increasing needs no proof. It is reasonable,
therefore, to expect moral progress in the future.
The belief's now very general, and likely to remain
a long time with a certain class, that the only true sup-
port of morality is afforded by theology. This belief
has plausibility for the masses because a portion of
man's toilsomely acquired knowledge has been embodied
in, or connected with theological dogmas. What man
has discovered in himself he has contemplated in God.
The elementary facts of anthropology, long before they
were systematized in a real science, were made the basis
of the pseudo-science of theology, the assumptions of
which stand out prominently in the history of the race;
while the unrecorded thoughts, hopes, fears and aspira-
tions of the people out of which grew these dogmas, are
little considered or entirely disregarded.
Conduct, influenced far less by theological beliefs
than is commonly supposed, is determined by character,
— the product of factors furnished by the countless mil-
lions who have lived and died, — and by surroundings
which are continually modifying character. Every ob-
servation, discovery and invention, and every act in the
life of man that has helped him to understand his rela-
tions, to enlarge his powers, to improve his physical
condition, have contributed to the moral progress of the
race.
With multiplied relations and increased complexity ot
social life, man is placed in a greater variety of positions
and subject to far greater moral strain. The existence,
therefore, in civilized society of a multitude of evils
unknown to barbarians, is an unavoidable incident in
the evolution of institutions and the growth of industrial
pursuits that distinguish civilized from savage life. Ac-
cording to statistics, Protestant districts in Germany
exhibit more fraud than Catholic districts; and the rea-
son of this, evidently, is that more business is done in
the former than in the latter. In Catholic districts the
*56
THE OPEN COURT.
■*xcess is in acts of violence, because in those districts
.are more ignorance and poverty.
The more complex become man's relations, the
greater the necessitv and the greater the power of resist-
ing temptation and yielding to the discipline of personal
sacrifice for the general good. The moral sense, too, is
strengthened, and the power of the will in restraining
the selfish propensities and in making conduct conform
to the conceptions of duty is augmented. The more
man knows of science, the more clearly must he see and
the more fully must he realize that morality is supreme
over everything else, because upon its embodiment in
■character and conduct depends, more than upon any-
thing else, the well-being of the race.
"AN UNCONVERTED HEATHEN.'
It was with heartfelt regret that we read a few days
.-ago of the death on the 25th of February, at Poona,
India, of Dr. Anandabia Joshee, her death occurring
less than a year after her successful graduation as an
IM. D. from the Women's Medical College of Philadel-
phia, where she had taken a three years' course of
study.
One afternoon in May last, we waited in the receiv-
ing room of the New England Women's Hospital, at
Boston, Mass., with a little flutter of admiring curiosity
the coming of Dr. Joshee, for we had never met a
Hindu woman and the known facts of this woman's
life were sufficient to awaken admiration; fur only a
brave, self-sacrificing and independent soul could have
left as she had, husband, home, kindred and native land,
to dwell among those of a different race, color, language,
nation and faith, in a strange Ian J and an uncongenial
clime for the purpose of becoming better fitted to
elevate intellectually and alleviate physically the condi-
tion of the women of her own race — and she so young
— and a woman !
This feeling of admiration was deepened when there
presently entered a graceful, child-like creature, the
lustrous eyes of whose dark grave face sought those of
her visitor in quiet scrutiny. The occasion of the call
-was to invite her in behalf of the Free Religious Asso-
ciation to explain her mission and the need of it at the
<coming anniversary of the Association. The little
lady's tone and manner were wondrouslv self-possessed
;and dignified as she replied in the purest English that
her duties at the hospital were such as to keep her con-
stantly employed from six in the morning until nine in
ithe evening; that she was anxious to learn as much as
possible in the three months she intended to remain in
the hospital before returning to India, and as the day on
-which the anniversary of the F. R. A. was to be held,
was "operating day" it would be impossible for her to
attend, even, any of the meetings, much less prepare an
address in addition to her other duties. Her quiet
acceptance of what she considered to be her duty in the
matter was superb. When the evening came on which
she had been asked to speak, she was not present at the
meeting, but her husband, Gopal Vinayak Joshee, who
had recently followed his young wife to this country,
gave an address, afterward published in the proceedings
of the convention.
A month or so later, Dr. Toshee despite her anxiety
to finish her experimental three months' course at the
New England Women's Hospital, was obliged through
over-exhaustion to give up her work there. One even-
ing in June, at the home of the editors of this paper?
she, with her husband, met a few congenial friends.
That evening we know is still cherished in the
memory of the others who were present, for it brought
them into nearer relations with, and clearer understand-
ing of Oriental humanity than the reading of many
books on the subject could have done. A uniquely for-
eign and dainty looking pair they appeared, both dressed
in very becoming native costume. She wore no bonnet,
but instead a fawn-colored wrap enveloped her finely
shaped head and gracefully draped her shoulders; this
was removed on entering. Her robe of some fine dark
woolen material was edged to the depth of several
inches with gold-colored embroidery, and, in spite of its
flowing drapery at one arm, fitted nicely her plump
-petite form ; gold bracelets adorned her wrists. The
dark face was round, with full lips, handsomely shaped
brow, broad and intellectual looking; between the eye-
brows a small tattooed mark, somewhat in shape like a
cross, appeared. The eyes were beautiful and expressive,
large, black, softly shining, as capable of smiles as of
tears, but with a strangely pathetic look in them as if
through them ages of unappreciated womanhood
appealed for justice to the nineteenth century. The
prevailing expression of Dr. Joshee's face was grave,
dignified, almost sad, but the rare smile which marked
her appreciation of the ludicrous was charmingly bright
and girlish. The talk drifted during the evening into
channels which in spite of her modestly diffident man-
ner, drew out her opinions. Reference was made to the
impression received by Christian Sabbath-school scholars
from missionary reports as to '-heathen darkness" and
the sacrifice of human life to Juggernaut, and the cast-
ing of babes into the Ganges by their mothers. These
stories the Joshee's claimed to be exaggerations of the
missionaries. The car of Juggernaut being an immense
structure, some thirty feet in height and proportionately
heavy, used to be brought out once a year for holy pro-
cession. It was esteemed a sacred privilege to assist in
drawing the car, thousands gathered from far and near,
the country was hilly, sometimes the car would slip and
other accidents would occur by which life was lost; and
these accidents were exaggerated by the missionaries into
wilful sacrifice. The mothers who threw their babes
THE OPEN COURT.
:57
into the Ganges were often driven thereto by poverty
which threatened starvation to both, while salvation for
the souls of the little ones was hoped to be secured bv
drowning in the sacred stream. Dr. Joshee said that
during her medical experience as a student in Philadel-
phia a large number of new-born infants, found dead
with marks of having been killed at birth, or who had
<hed by reason of the desertion of their presumably
unmarried mothers, were secured as "subjects" for the
■dissecting room, and she might as well on her return to
India relate this fact and claim that it was the custom of
mothers in America to kill or desert their new-born
babes, and adduce this as a result of Christian belief.
In a discussion, introduced by Mr. Joshee, of the right
of men to kill and eat animals, one of our party in
defense suggested that inherited appetites might necessi-
tate the continuance of a practice revolting to our sense
■of justice, since our bodies had been built up of such
material, adding also that a climate differing from India
might require more stimulating food; to which Dr.
Joshee replied that she had lived for over three years in
America without once tasting of animal food and with-
out feeling any need of any food different from that she
had been accustomed to in India.
She was asked, as one who was herself familiar with
the Sanscrit Scriptures, if Edwin Arnold's Indian
poems were true to the originals in spirit and meaning,
or were the beauty of diction and lofty morality found
in them due to Arnold's own ideality and exuberance of
poetic imagination? She said that though he had
changed the form by putting the translations into verse,
yet that his poems were mainly true to the originals, and
he had not idealized or exaggerated, but on the contrary
had sometimes failed to catch the subtle spiritual mean-
ing of the ancient writings.
She spoke sensibly of "Christian Science" theories,
had taken several lessons therein and told how she saw
on what natural basis those theories could be explained.
Spoke of her investigations in phrenology and how she
iound in her medical studies, especially in dissecting
the brain, reasons for disbelief of some of the claims
made bv enthusiastic believers in phrenology as a
science.
Her acquaintance with American and English
scientists, writers and others of note, was something
phenomenal. This was evinced in looking over a col-
lection of photographs of a large number of these. As
each picture was looked at, she showed by a few appre-
ciative words, her acquaintance with the field of work
of the original. "She is simply wonderful!" exclaimed
one lady of the party, as she listened to her, and this
opinion was echoed in a note sent the writer from another
ladv who accompanied the Joshee's a short distance on
their homeward route that evening.
But she is dead! — that sweet intellectual soul, that
large-brained, self-forgetful womanly creature! — dead*
at twenty-three, she who had sacrificed so much to gain
so little; dead at the threshold of her work for which
she was so well equipped. She had just been appointed
Resident Physician of the great Albert Edward Hos-
pital of Kohlapur in Bombay. " It was generally
recognized" says the Philadelphia Ledger^ in noting
her death "that her return to her native land was the
opening of a great and new era for women in India."
■ Yet this rare sweet spirit was still "an unconverted
heathen," and as such Andover Theology bars her
sternly out of its circumscribed little heaven, and com-
monplace English men and women considered them-
selves her superiors, and refused to associate on equal
terms with her on her homeward voyage ! We sym-
pathized sincerely with her loyal husband's indignation
as expressed in a letter on that subject, published in one
of the last numbers of The Index. s. a. v.
M. Albert Reville, who fills the chair of the History
of Religions at the College de France, Paris, in writing
us that we may expect a contribution from his pen on
the "Future of Protestantism in France," says: "I
have received the copy of The Open Court that you
were kind enough to send me. To say that all that I have
read in it pleases me entirely would be an exaggeration.
Although an outspoken advocate of religious progress
that is positive and not a salvo morale that vanishes into
thin air, I look upon agnosticism only as a starting point
analogous to Descartes' philosophic doubt and not as a
goal. I consider those who get ensnared in it to be the
promoters of religious stagnation because the fear of
nothingness will always keep the majority of mankind
in the camp of those who affirm something however
irrational these affirmations may be. In a word, I
should like to see, by the Protestant method, the evolu-
tion principle supplant, as a principle of religious prog-
ress, that of revolution ; in other terms, I prefer to
continue, to enlarge, to rectify and to purify the liberal
tendency that has already set in, rather than have
recourse to those violent changes which may have been
necessary in the past but which cannot be justified,
philosophically, at the present time."
* * *
In an article entitled "A Friend of God," in the
Nitieteenth Cetitury for April, Matthew Arnold shows
how the gradual decadence of mythology in religion
has been accomplished by the process of intellectual
development. Heretofore, a mythological element was
absolutely essential to the existence of a religion. The
great mass of men were only satisfied with a faith which
excited the imagination, and through it developed the
feelings of wonder and awe and a sense of responsibility
to an unseen Deity. The Salvation Army, the Metho-
dists, and some other primitive sects, are the still exist-
'58
THE OPEN COURT.
ing representatives of that type of faith. " The epoch-
making chance of our own day " is that we are reaching
a place where religion can rest on no mythological basis
whatever, whether moral or immoral. The "gross
mob" of men have shown hostility toward religion, and
evidences of that feeling are all too common now, but
along with an enmity against any discipline to uplift and
ennoble, there is developing a feeling of impatience and
wrath at what they look upon as the trifling of those
who offer them, in their great need, the old mytholog-
ical faith, — a thing impossible of acceptance and passing
away, if not quite passed; "incapable of either solving
the present or founding the future."
Incongruities and anomalies seem to be inevitable in
intellectual, social, moral and religious evolution. Old
conceptions, creeds and forms partially outgrown, per-
sist through periods in which the newer thought and the
movements in the line of progress are yet incomplete,
unsystematized and unco-ordinated with the established
order of things, causing temporarily imperfect adjust-
ments and all sorts of inconsistencies in beliefs and hab-
its, in ceremonies, customs and institutions. The more
rapid the changes the greater the disturbance and more
marked the inconsistencies. One of the characteristics
of all religious transitions is more or less moral disturb-
ance. Doubt concerning theological doctrines long
believed to be the only foundation of ethics must, in
many minds involve a weakening of moral restraints.
Of this, illustrations are afforded by the Reformation,
especially in its earliest period, when the lives of multi-
tudes of adherents of the new movement furnished its
opponents with a most effective argument against it.
The evil became less only as a readjustment of ethical
ideas to the changed religious belief gradually took place.
These facts it is important that liberals thoroughly under-
stand that they may see the necessity of teaching ethics
on a firm basis, of familiarizing the people with the
moral side of their philosophy, and of replacing super-
stition with the truths of nature. Meanwhile, let all
who would fairly judge a theory or a system by its moral
results give it time to overcome the disturbance
produced by contact with old-established errors which
have been made the basis of moral teaching; and let all
who may be discouraged by the imperfections of indi-
viduals identified with any reform, find consolation in
the study of the great reforms now popularly known
only by their beneficent results.
# * *
Mr. J. B. Harrison, whose volume on '■'•Certain Dan-
gerous Tendencies of American Life'''' was one of the
most serious studies of social and industrial conditions
yet produced in this country, is doing valuable service
as a representative of the Indian Rights Association,
formed recently, with headquarters at Philadelphia.
He has visited during the past year all the principal In-
dian reservations, noted everything bearing on the
schools, farming, home-life, and missionary work in
their midst, also the actual administration of affairs by
government agents, and has embodied the result in a
little volume entitled, The Latest Studies on Indian
Reservations. This is no "moralizing" or waste of
sentiment, nor is it a colorless statistical report; it is em-
phatically a readable book, full of incidents and photo-
graphic pictures, and is invaluable for anyone who
wants the actual facts of the Indian question. The As-
sociation has already published other important litera-
ture; it is all sent free to members paying $2.00 a year
(office, 1,316 Filbert street, Philadelphia). Those who
would help in remedying a great national wrong can-
not do better than by aiding the association.
Mr. Cable, the widely-known novelist, having settled
in Northampton, Mass., has begun a Sunday Bible-class
in the opera house of that town. Those who remember
what an evident moral purpose runs through Dr.
Sevier, and yet recall how free that brilliant novel is
from the heaviness and triteness of the ordinary " good
book," will not be surprised to learn that Mr. Cable's
class is very popular, both with the people and the press.
His treatment of the Bible follows the way of many
modern literary minds, a way best exemplified in Mat-
thew Arnold's religious works, and in J. R. Seeley's
Natural Religion. As instance of this may be cited
Mr. Cable's reply to a question whether Moses didn't
write the story of Joseph, and if it wasn't written a
thousand years after the incidents took place. " I don't
know, and I don't care," said Mr. Cable, promptly and
emphatically, " these questions of authorship are not
supreme ones, and the Bible should be studied on its
merits. For one, I rather enjoy its anonymous charac-
ter, think it has a tendency to stimulate one's spirituality,
and prefer to know what is written than by whom."
* # #
The policy of the Roman Catholic church was never
more plainly evidenced than in its relation to Dr. Mc-
Glynn and the Knights of Labor movement. The stern
command to refrain from appearing in public as the
champion of that movement and of the theories of
Henry George, was not disregarded by him without the
inevitable consequences. He was suspended and ordered
to Rome, but when he refused to obey that order and
continued to plead in the interests of labor his supe-
riors after a momentary outburst of wrath, quieted down
and took into consideration the conditions with which
they had to contend. It was seen that a large number
of Catholics were included in the Knights of Labor
organization, and that an attempt to force Dr. McGlynn
to obey might make clear to their eyes the true charac-
ter of the church and its opposition to anything like
the: open court.
J59
individual freedom. A less aggressive policy was
adopted. The Knights of Labor were indorsed and
their purpose sanctioned.
In an article entitled "A Glimpse of Russia," by the
Countess of Galloway, published in the Nineteenth
Century for April, the attitude of the orthodox Greek
church toward the different phases of modern religious
thought is briefly' touched upon. There is little effort
on the part of the church to meet the perplexing ques-
tions that are constantly rising and demanding examina-
tion, and attempts at control of the general mind are
slight and soon given up. Correct performance of the
duties which the discipline requires constitute all that is
demanded in fulfillment of religious obligations. There
is a tale of a conscientious agnostic who, when com-
pelled to go before the priest for confession, commenced
by saying: " Mon pcre, je doute detent" (My father, I
question everything). His confessor treated this state-
ment with complete indifference, and commanded him
to make his confession without troubling his conscience
on that matter.
The Popular Science Monthly for April reprints an
article from the Saturday Review on " Rustic Super-
stition." In the rural districts of England beliefs and
practices are still retained that were prevalent when the
"black un" was believed to take possession of and bewitch
whatsoever worthy and peaceful individual he would, and
when the meeting of a black cat at certain unfavorable
hours of the day or night, was thought to portend con-
sequences of a very unpleasant character. Soothsayers
and wizards still exist and the credulous public is willing
to part with its half-crowns in return for " the future
unveiled," or charms and incantations to drive away
whatsoever ailments the flesh is heir to. Any myste-
rious happening in an out of the way locality or deserted
house, is referred by the knowing ones to '■Summat,"
which distinguished individual, though never seen, is
universally respected and propitiated. As superstition
is inevitable where ignorance reigns supreme, it is not
hard to understand that the most efficient remedy is
compulsory education.
* * *
In " Confessions of a Quaker " in The Forum
for April, the author, after dwelling upon the changes
which his church has undergone since 16^0, the date
of its origin, concludes with the statement " There must
be a full return to the original basis of the Church of
Christ, and entire consecration to its living Head, in the-
ology, polity, experience and work, and the only true
model for this is found in the New Testament Scriptures."
It would seem incredible if it were not known to be true,
that there are men who calmly make such statements as
this, being apparently ignorant of the Middle Age flavor
which the teachings that they seek to resuscitate have
acquired. The Quakers of to-day are not so blind to
the truth that they can forget and put aside the intel-
lectual plane upon which the world now moves, and
return to those primitive conditions and forms of belief
which were characteristic of them in their incipiency.
Mr. Joseph Shippen, in his tine tribute before the
Chicago Channing Club to the character of the late Dr.
William G. Eliot, said:
At the opening of the great St. Louis bridge, its eminent engi-
neer predicted that, constructed of parts that could be replaced at
any time without interruption of travel, it would last as long as
required by the wants of man, and declared that, with capital
enough, he could have made it of one arch instead of three. The
life and character we have been considering was a single arch of
fidelity and consecration. Believing in the imperishability of
great examples, we believe the influence of our departed friend
on the minds and hearts of men, inspiring them to liberty, holi-
ness and love, will be immortal.
The fact that the Free Religious Association, organ-
ized primarily for the study and discussion of religious
subjects, has not gone into the business of general prac-
tical reform is no good reason for Mr. Garrison's
complaint against "free religion." Individually, and
in connection with other organizations the free religious
people probably do their share of philanthrophic work.
Many of them are prominent leaders of reform move-
ments. "Free Religion" is an indefinite phrase, since
the F. R. A. has no religious creed and is composed of
Christians and non-Christians, Theists, Agnostics, Posi-
tists, Hebrews and Buddhists. How far they are agreed
as to free trade, prohibition, etc., we are unable to say;
but the fact that they differ on these and other subjects
which are now before the people for discussion and
action, is no valid argument against any religious belief
found in the Association.
Any subscriber of The Open Court who fails to
receive his paper regularly is requested to communicate
the fact to this office.
PRO CONFESSO.
BY GEORGE WENTZ.
Whoso writes delightful story,
True and touching, (nil of lore,
Shall in human nature's longing
Hold a place for evermore.
All the docks and mossy harbors,
Where the sea-ships come and go,
Still rehearse that spell and pleasing
Of the pages of Defoe.
Eldor..do? — still we wonder
Can there any Island lie
In the west of life's attaining,
Where our prime might never die?
Still in secret depths of feeling
We escape Time's onward span;
For the youth's remote transfusion
Stirs the pulses of the man.
i6o
THE OPEN COURT.
COPE'S THEOLOGY OF EVOLUTION.*
BY EDMUND MONTGOMERY.
Part I.
Knowledge and not agnosticism is the veritable goal
of science — conviction, ample and entire, the natural
craving of the human heart. It is well enough to have
no settled mind regarding the origin and final doom of
all creation. But it can be neither satisfactory nor bene-
ficial to maintain an agnostic attitude towards the great
practical issues of human existence. Here on this
planet we find ourselves, launched on a precarious voy-
age, freighted with all the weath of world-responsive
life. This transcendent heritage, of which we are the
entrusted bearers, how are we rightfully to dispose of
it? No other question is so supremely urgent. We
desire an unambiguous answer.
Is the gathered treasure of life to be used among the
needy insufficiencies of this nether sphere, to become
through fruitful investment the enhanced patrimony of
our human issue? Or has it to be jealously conserved,
hereafter to adorn our own presence, where celestial
affluence shall smile at earthly wants?
Are we actually what we seem, genuine planetary
beings, in our right place here below? Or have we
merely got here by some mysterious blunder elsewhere
committed, and are, in truth, metamorphosed denizens
from another region, only for a time of penance
entangled in this mortal coil?
The immensely laborious uplifting of life, conse-
crated by the suffering and death of countless genera-
tions; the passionate wrestling for the well-being of
our kind, for the victory of our social aspiration; are its
tragic adjuncts grounded, of necessity, in the defective
but perfectible nature of things? Are we, indeed
engaged in a solemn life and death struggle, decisive for
human existence? Or are we only puppets in organic
form, handled from above, and made to enact here a
troublous scene of seeming joys and sorrows, valid in
itself for nothing, save the delectation of a self-sufficient
outsider, who keeps it all going for his own good
pleasure?
These arc the vital questions we are yearning to
have definitely solved. Theologians, philosophers,
scientist1-, in their inmost heart, know quite well that
there can be no compromise between the two views.
Sometimes with sincere directness and single-hearted love
of truth, oftener with much twisting and time-serving
circumspection, they are, from their different standpoints,
either seeking for more positive assurance, or already
inculcating the one or the other opinion. Our time is
ripe for clear judgment and definite choice. To occupy
one's self earnestly with the present state of the problem,
* Theology oj Evolution: A lecture by E. D. Cope, Ph.D. Philadelphia,
and keep, nevertheless, one's mind and inclination sus-
pended between the two incompatible views, betokens
over-subtle skepticism or faint-hearted indecision.
Doubt paralyzes action. Obedience to duty presup-
poses settled faith in a guiding principle. And sane
enthusiasm for a cause is only kindled through firmly-
established conviction of its absolute justice and
supreme import. It is not by doubt that humanity can
ever prosper. Only through dutiful compliance with
sound guidance, and through sane enthusiasm for a just
cause can we ever hope to scale loftier heights of civil-
ization.
What guiding-principle, what cause shall it then be?
Not to follow the senseless lead of fatuous lights in this-
all-important quest, we have, first of all, to know for
certain, whether this manifest universe is our real home,
or whether we belong by rights to an entirely different
order of existence? Are we to fight this battle of life
under the banner of world-deliverance or under that of
world-fulfillment? Is it to be the religion of life here-
after or the religion of actual living? celestial or terres-
tial ethics? We have to decide.
How manageably compact was the conception of
the world, and our place in it, a few hundred years ago.
To Luther, who freed us from the tyrannous imposi-
tions of an insolently artificial and lethargic creed, the
whole creation seemed one continuous battle-field, where
the great antagonistic powers, God and the Devil, were
contending for human souls, over which the Evil One
had stolen a fatal advantage. All good things came
from God; all bad things from the Devil. The teach-
ing of the Bible, as interpreted by Dr. Martin Luther,
the chosen vessel of the Lord, was supreme and infalli-
ble truth. Its sincere believers were God's only chil-
dren, whom he would save. All others, the adherents
of the Pope and Mahomet, the Jews and the Gentiles,,
and savages of all sorts, were partisans of the Devil
and lost. Despite God's merciful efforts to rescue man-
kind by the sacrifice of his only son and the gift of his
holy word, Satan had evidently gained almost complete
sway in this wicked world. But soon, very soon, God
was going to confound the Arch Fiend by putting a sud-
den and violent end to this huge mass of human deprav-
ity and perversity; and then all will turn out well for
those who have kept the true faith; but woe unto then"*
who have gone astray.
In such closely-pressed and spirit-haunted Aceldama,,
with child-like faith, the great Luther lived and died,,
and wrought the mighty reformation, whose liberating
power was man's conscientious self-discernment of truth.
Standing inflexibly firm on thy narrow ground with
deeply sincere and fervid heart, thou hast fought mar-
vellously well thy life-long battle against hierarchaL
frauds and shams, thou sturdy champion of righteous-
ness. Monastically bewildered at the overpowering;
THE OPEN COURT.
i6r
promptings of human emotions and aspirations, it was
not in mere outward observances and penances that thy
honest soul could rind absolution for this abysmal feud,
raging within thee between thy nature-moulded self,
and the world-alienating will of thy Christian God.
Peace could come to thee in so superhuman a strife,
only by leaning with the trustful unconcern of implicit
faith on an all-reconciling Savior.
How changed that categorically methodized world
of thine since thou left it! Thou wouldst not know it
again. A whole succession of Muenzers, Zwinglis,
Agricolas and of ever so many other new kinds of
cursed innovators have recklessly burst in all directions
through thy biblically-compassed scheme of life, sacri-
legiously overthrowin ; its seraphic and satanic super-
structure, and threatening with total dissolution all its
traditional assumptions.
So it has come about that in these last two centuries
'of unchecked reformation theologians and philosophers
have been forced to discuss exhaustively the various
proofs from time to time advanced in rational support of
the current faith in the existence of an omnipotent Cre-
ator and in the immortality of the human soul. And
those who have given the greatest attention to these
transcendent problems know best to what extremities
reason is here driven, and on what slender threads it has
at last to fasten the theological faith. Its most efficient
arguments, — that from design, and that from the fixed
order of nature and its intelligibility, — even these strong-
holds ot natural theology do not hold out when closely
besieged. The nature of the designing and ordering
power, and the process by which the results are attained,
remain utterly inscrutable, however much reason may
strive to gain some insight into it. And the most care-
ful scientific scrutiny has failed as yet to detect any room
for supernatural interference with the intrinsic ways and
means of nature.
If, among Professor Cope's audience at Philadelphia,
there were such who had realized the distance which
reason and science have thus placed between our natural
understanding and the objects of theological faith, they
must have felt eager, indeed, to learn from an eminent
scientist what "absolute proposition with certain demon-
stration " had been discovered to attest, — contrary to
Job's assertion, — that God has at last been found out by
searching, and that we may hope for immortality on a
"sound and solid" scientific basis.
Should it really prove possible scientifically to dem-
onstrate with absolutely certainty that a supreme and
eternal Mind is ordering creation, and is the "common
source" from which our "lesser minds" are derived,
then all theological doubt will at once vanish from among
us, our proper course in life will have become positively
determined, and we shall soon get to regulate all our
doings in accordance with such incontestable scientific
certainty.
When an investigator of nature has, by means of his-
special studies, become convinced of a great truth whose?
general acceptance would be all-important, it certainly
devolves upon him as a social duty to proclaim and ex-
plain it to the world at large, that all may profit by it.
We are, therefore, truly thankful to Professor Cope that
he has not, with pedantic exclusiveness, withheld from
the common herd the theological view of evolution
which his biological studies have forced upon him. lie
rightly scorns to imitate the haughty reserve of " the-
majority of scientific men " who " avoid the subject,"
and thereby increase our perplexity. With laudable-
fellow-feeling he lays his theory frankly before us as a-
scientifically grounded conclusion, to be carefully tested,
as such in keeping with scientific usage, so that, after"
due trial, it may finally stand verified as truth or be re-
jected as error. Professor Cope is well aware of the-
" inherent difficulties of the subject," but he believes-
that his researches into the nature of evolution have
opened the way to overcome them. Let us then take ai
general survey of his conception as a whole, and them
examine its scientific grounding.
Professor Cope's conclusions tend to show that the-
universe consisted primordiallv of an unorganized or"
" unspecialized " material substratum spread out in space..
This uniform matter did not undergo evolutional chansres-
solely by dint of its physical properties; nor did it merely
serve as raw material to be shaped by a supreme Artificer y.
nor has it played the passive part of an occasional vehi-
cle for the manifestations of an otherwise independent:
mind. It was itself, from the very beginning, in;
possession of mentality. Mind was one of its own.'
properties. For mind "is tied to matter as a property-
of matter " (p. 16-17). Now, it is this peculiar mental
property of the universal substratum that has power
to give specific direction to its movements. The mind
of matter is its veritable formative power. Probably
all material aggregation and combination, but certainly
all evolutional organization is due to the " directive-
power of mind." " Mind was one at the start, and all
this evolution has been simply due to the active exercise -
of mentality" (p. 23).
It follows that the one universal mind of primordial
matter, which by its exertion has produced all the evo-
lutional forms now extant, must be vastly superior to the-
separate minds derived by the individuation of special
portions of matter. Therefore, this common source and
origin of all world-formation may well be called God.,
or the " great Mind." And this great Mind being as
indestructible as the material substratum of which it
is a property, we, as part of it, by force of "the insep-
arable bond which will bind us forever to a material
basis" (p. 17) are likewise indestructible or Immortal.
These, in a few words, are the leading doctrines of"
the Theology of Evolution. And this theology oft"
i6i
THE OPEN COURT.
evolution was courageously propounded by Professor
Cope to a specifically Christian denomination. We
hope that, however serious our eminent scientist may
otherwise be, he possessed on that occasion sufficient
humor inwardly to enjoy the consternation which his
candid announcement of a supreme Being, who is one
of the properties of matter, was sure to create among
his intelligent theological hearers. The situation must
have been extremely piquant.
Professor Cope, being a true scientist, has of course
arrived at his theological conclusions by way of induc-
tion. The evidence by which he sustains the belief in
a "great Mind" and in a "future life" he alleges to be
" based on the knowledge that we possess of the control
of mind over matter" (p. 39). Now, if Professor Cope
really possesses such knowledge, — if he can prove that
mind controls matter, — he has solved the central prob-
lem of modern philosophy.
We are all perfectly aware that our muscles are not
moved by the push or pull of any force acting upon our
body from outside. We know that it is by a process
occurring within our organism that these aim-directed
or designed muscular movements are effected. But what
the true nature of this most peculiar moving process
reallv is, that is not so easily made out. It is, in fact
the very question that has been called " the puzzle of
puzzles." And since Descartes it has occupied all the
greatest philosophical minds, — nay, St. Augustine
already says: "The manner in which spirits are con-
nected with bodies is incomprehensible; nevertheless, it
is thus that man is constituted."
Introspectively we seem to feel quite certain that it is
by force of some mental power of ours that we are
moving our limbs. We seem to control, through con-
sciousness, by means of an outgoing mental effort, the
action of what, in consequence, we call our voluntary
muscles. We resolve to move our arm, have a feeling
of effort, and, behold! the arm is moving. This is how
the process appears when viewed from the inner or sub-
jective standpoint.
But as soon as we investigate the matter from the
outer or objective standpoint, which is the standpoint of
science, we lose all confidence in the testimony of our
introspective consciousness. The feeling of effort proves
then to be centripetally and not centrifugallv originated.
And it becomes, moreover, utterly incomprehensible how
mind can in any way impart motion to material particles.
Yet this incomprehensible feat would have to be accom-
plished even if only direction has to be given to what-
ever motion the particles may otherwise possess; for to
give direction to a moving mass is to impart diverting
motion to it. In this world of ours only matter is mova-
ble and possesses momentum. Only something which
is itself movable, and in possession of momentum, can
possibly impart motion to matter. Mind, as such, is not
movable, and does not possess momentum; therefore, it
cannot move matter (q. e. d.).
Let us see how Professor Cope encounters these
ancient difficulties, and gets to believe that he has over-
come them. He conceives the situation thus: " A stim-
ulus or line of disturbance enters the body." The per-
son receives it passively. " It is registered in the poste-
rior part of the main hemispheres of the brain, is
reflected to the front of the hemispheres, and then from
that point it is reflected back again toward the executive
organs of the body, passing through the striate body and
nerves to the muscles, which thereupon contract so as to
perform some act" (p. 12). This act is now found to be
"saturated with intelligence" (p. 13). Whence this
acquired exhibition of intelligent design? How has the
motion that entered the body merely as a physical motion
been converted into an outgoing motion bearing the
stamp of intelligence?
Professor Cope accounts for it by telling us that " in
the anterior part of the great hemispheres of the brain "
"the line of energy appears to be submitted to a disturb-
ance which is a deflection, a process of turning and
directing, and that turning and directing is an exhibi-
tion of what is called design" (p. 13).
It is quite true that to an intelligent observer the
designed activities of a person appear " saturated with
intelligence." This is an incontestable and marvelous
fact of nature. The difficulty is to explain it from a
scientific standpoint. The relation of motion to intelli-
gence is the enigma in question, and we venture to assert
that Professor Cope cannot possibly solve it from his
position of " tridimensional realism." Moving matter
obeys undeviatingly physical laws, and mind cannot
deflect it from its determined course. How little the
outgoing movements of the living organism are really
themselves intellectual, — how purely physical, on the
contrary, even the most significant of them are, —
becomes very obvious in contemplating human speech.
What movements could be more "saturated with intelli-
gence " than those which are capable of conveying our
inmost thoughts? Vet a piece of tin-foil in a phono-
graph, by means of nothing but mechanical impressions,
will have the same intellectual effect on us as the move-
ments of speech that have received " in the anterior part
of the great hemispheres" the "turning and directing"
twist of design. Where, then, in all reality, i-. the intel-
ligence seated which these purely physical movements
seem to possess? The sounding, — nay-, the merely
vibrating shocks of the phonograph, the printed charac-
ters in a book, where do they acquire their mental sig-
nificance? They strike our sensory organs simply as
physical stimuli, and it is evidently we who, in receiving
them, invest with a whole world of consistent meaning
their slight and evanescent hints.
Is Professor Cope right, then, in assuming that, when
THE OPEN COURT.
163
the stimulating effect " goes in, the person who receives
it has nothing whatever to do with it;"' that he merely
" takes it " and " is passive " (p. 1 3) ? Here, already, at the
portals of individual life, the stimulating call of outward
nature rouses from the mystic depths of organic latency
the responsive mind ; and on the slender suggestion of
nothing but a rhythm of aerial touches it pictures with
symbolic accuracy and profound comprehension the
great spectacle of the real world. It is quite evident,
then, that the organic individual does not "take" the
stimulating influences passively, without having anything
" whatever to do with them." They do not enter the
magic circle of life without suffering a vital transmuta-
tion as incomprehensibly strange as any in nature. If a
directing turn or intelligent significance is at all imparted
to motions within the living organism, surely here,
where etherial pulses signify the whole world, this men-
tal stamp is impressed on them even more strikingly
than when, as in outgoing muscular movements, they
mean only our own feelings and thoughts.
In harmony with Professor Cope's train of reason-
ing, this consideration involves that all stimulating influ-
ences which reach our sensory organs are " saturated
with intelligence." And if so, his theory of perception
would nearly agree with that of Berkeley's: universal
intelligence communicating perceptively with individual
intelligence. Only he also would then be logically led
to discover that in this light matter is only a superfluous
impediment easily argued away. To his own astonish-
ment he would learn to " understand the idealistic uni-
verse," which he now believes himself unable to conceive.
The truth is mind, as such, is a forceless inner aware-
ness of what takes place independently of it. It cannot
alter a jot the path of material particles. The entire
chain of molecular motions set going by stimulation, —
a process which can be realized only from the objective
standpoint, — is rigorously physical. This means, accord-
ing to our present scientific conception, that it is abso-
lutely predetermined by the previous physical disposi-
tion of the molecules and their motion. Consequently,
there can be no room anywhere for mental interference;
fundamental scientific principles forbid us to assume it.
During physical investigation we are observing an
enchainment of phenomena, whose disposition in space
and behavior in time are absolutely determined by non-
mental occurrences outside ourselves, and which we are
utterly incapable of changing by any mental exertion on
our part. We defy any one, idealist or no idealist, to
change by a purely mental effort the objective aspect of
any occurrence; for instance, the place or speed of a
carriage passing by. The perception of it is entirely
the perceiver's own mental realization; but it is, never-
theless, definitely compelled by the stimulating influences.
In exactly the same manner are all perceived or perceiv-
able motions compelled by extra-mental processes; those
taking place in the brain or in other parts of our body
not less than the rest.
To become mentally aware of extra-mental exist-
ents ami their activities — aware, for instance, of the
brain and its functions, we have to assume the objective
attitude by allowing such existents and their activities to
stimulate our senses. It is e\ ident, then, that the exist-
ent and its activities thus casually realized in consciousness
at that particular moment, exist independently of such
realization, and cannot be influenced thereby. This
holds good just as well when such existents and their
activities are forming part of our own organism, as when
they are forming part of the rest of the outside world.
How, indeed, can my mind possibly influence the exist-
ence and activity of my brain, of which it can gain
knowledge only by assuming the objective aspect
towards it, and of which it is otherwise wholly uncon-
scious, being, in fact, itself its stimulated outcome. Who,
during perception or thought, is at all aware of the cor-
responding molecular motions simultaneously going on
in his head? And how can consciousness then influ-
ence the state of being of something, of whose existence
it has not the remotest inkling?
The only way out of this central dilemma of science
and philosophy is to show that the leading principles of
our present mechanical interpretation of nature are
untenable; that the molecular processes constituting
vital activity are hyper-mechanical, imparting them-
selves the "directive turn" and specific energies to
stimulation received from outside.*
We will now try to find out by what special scien-
tific error Professor Cope manages to insinuate mental
effectuation into the physical nexus. In agreement
with the principle of the conservation of energy he
himself says: "Force, that is action or motion, cannot
be caused except by the appropriation and modification
of some pre-existent activity or motion" (p. 14). If so,
then we must ask whether the direction, i. e. the changed
motion, which Professor Cope attributes to the influ-
ence of consciousness is caused by the appropriation of
some motion that pre-existed in consciousness? Here
evidently lies the error. Professor Cope has failed to
realize that the imparting of direction to matter is as
much a physical act as the imparting of any other mode
of motion. It can be done only by a push or pull, or
let us add by physical repulsion or attraction. Con-
sciousness cannot possibly be a vehicle of pre-existino-
motion, a thing possessing mechanical momemtum, and
entering into the physical nexus as a correlated force,
receiving and imparting physical energy. Yet Pro-
fessor Cope says: " It is not only pretended, but proved,
that that external energy passes into the consciousness of
* This has been attempted by the present writer in a paper on "The Dual
Aspect of our Nature." Index, October, November and December, 1SS5,
where also the relation of the two aspects, the subjective and the objective is
explained.
164
THE OPEN COURT.
man," and " receives within him a stamp or a turn or
direction, that energy cannot receive under an}' other cir-
cumstances known to us" (p. 14). This means obviously
and inevitably that consciousness gives direction to motion,
which again means that consciousness, like any physical
force, imparts to matter a motion different to that which it
already possesses. That such mechanical intercommu-
nication between consciousness and matter cannot possi-
bly take place, Professor Cope fully realizes, for he
clearly asserts, " that consciousness has essentially no
affinity with anything else;" that it "is not only entirely
distinct in its essential nature from matter, but also
totally distinct from energy or motion" (pp. 16-1 7). Thus
by his own admission it has no community of nature
with anything physical, and is, therefore, totally inca-
pable of influencing the physical nexus.
Professor Cope's leading conception, on which he
has not only erected his entire theological superstructure,
but which he uses, moreover, as a fundamental princi-
ple to account for organic evolution itself, consists in
the assumption that consciousness can control the
movements of matter. We will no longer inquire
whether he is able to prove the validity of this assump-
tion; for we have seen that this is altogether out of the
question. We will only ask whether he has formed
any kind of idea as to the manner in which such a con-
trol of mind over matter might possibly take place. He
himself puts the question: "What is, then, the imme-
diate action of consciousness in directing energy into one
channel rather than another?" [Origin of the Fittest,
p. 427.) And, of course, as one would expect, he is
utterly at a loss to answer. He distinctly perceives that
consciousness " is not itself a force (= energy)." Con-
sequently he expresses most emphatically its impotence
to produce motion. He says: " How, then, can it exer-
cise energy? Certainly no more than the bare good
will of the train-hands can pull the train. Such an
explanation is to admit the possibility of making some-
thing out of nothing" (1. c).
Yet the experience of so-called voluntary move-
ments gives him a pretense, as it has done to so many
before him, to assume some kind of effective connection
between consciousness and the movements. Here, in
his "Address on Catagenesis" delivered two and one-half
years ago, he is, however, very candid in touching on
this most delicate and eminently important subject. He
is, by no means, conscious of having positive " knowl-
edge " of this supposed influence of consciousness over
material motion. On the contrary he acknowledges
knowing nothing about it. All the information he has
to give us concerning this distinctive feature of his theo-
logical and evolutional theory, is contained in the follow-
ing sentence: " The explanation can only be found in
a simple acceptance of the fact as it is, in the thesis, that
energy can be conscious. If true, this is an ultimate
fact" (id., pp. 427-8)*. This means simply that Pro-
fessor Cope is aware, like all of us, that consciousness
accompanies some of our movements; but that he has
no more than anj' of his philosophical or scientific fore-
goers, the remotest notion how such consciousness can
at all influence the motion of matter.
To sum up: We have avowedly not the slightest
" knowledge of the control of mind over matter."
Quite the reverse. It has been proved that mind cannot
possibly control matter. It if, however, solely on the
pretended k?wivledge of such control that the " Theol-
ogy of Evolution," with its belief in a "great Mind"
and in a "future life" is based. This sole basis having
crumbled to pieces, the entire superstructure has neces-
sarily also caved in. The "lesser mind," of which
alone we have experience, not being able to impart
direction to matter, the "great Mind," the new scientific
Deity, whose existence is only analogically surmised
and analogically endowed with the pretended power of
imparting direction to matter, has therewith irrecover-
ably vanished into the same thin air as other theologi-
cal speculations.
THE FOURTH ANNIVERSARY OF THE SOCIETY
FOR ETHICAL CULTURE OF CHICAGO.
The fourth anniversary of The Society for Ethical
Culture, of Chicago, was celebrated at the Madison
Street Theatre, on Sunday, April jo. There were
seated on the stage beside Mr. W. M. Salter, the lec-
turer of the society, several of the leading members,
who, after the regular lecture, were called upon by him
to speak and responded each in a short address. The
society has been steadily gaining ground both in the way
of an increasing membership and in respect to finances.
During the last year rooms have been taken by the
society in which are held its monthly conferences, the
ladies' charitable meetings, a class in ethics, the young
people's social reunions, as well as an ethical school for
children (Sunday mornings), which at this writing has
an encouraging attendance. The anniversary meeting
was well attended and great interest was manifested by
those who listened to the remarks of the several speakers.
We give below short extracts from some of the ad-
dresses.
Mr. Salter, dwelt at the outset upon the encouraging
outlook, laying special stress upon the fact that a strong
and abiding interest had been manifested in the work
which the society had taken upon itself to do. He
then said :
The real sources of our inspiration are in what we have yet
to do. The thought that stirs me most is that there is work to do
in this community and we must do it. There are those out of
sympathy intellectually with the churches and we must make a
* In a recent note on the last page of his work on The Origin of the Fittest,
1SS7, Professor Cope re-enforces this position. He says that the explanation of
the control of mind over matter requires " the assumption of the thesis that
1 energy can be conscious.' "
THE OPEN COURT.
165
home for them. The liberal churches do not take our place. They
are resting places for a day, but they do not satisfy. The type of
religion represented in most ot our independent and liberal
churches, is transitional religion. Logic conducts to them, but
conducts bevond them. It is better to be in them than in any
of our orthodox churches, but those only remain in them who
think a little way and then stop.
There is no reason for my leaving orthodoxy that does not
lead to complete free-thought. We have to make not a resting
place, but a home for men and women of liberal tendency; a fel-
lowship with a spirit so free and an ideal so high that there can
be no necessity nor wish to leave it. We should show that for
those driven by conscientious scruples out of the churches, there
is as warm a welcome here as they ever found there. The hu-
man heart longs for fellowship, longs to meetwith kindred minds.
We ought to say to people ill at ease in the churches and out of
them, come to us, you will find rest with us, you will find there is
still an aim in life and a consolation in suffering and in the face
of death, though you cannot believe in one of the old perplexing
doctrines. I bring before my mind a great number of such peo-
ple, people who are without a home for the soul, and I say to my-
self, that is my call, that is your call, to find them out, to bring
them to us, to bring them home.
The president of the society, Judge Henry Booth,
said :
I can think of no better way of occupying the few moments
assigned me for addressing you than by stating some of the lead-
ing ideas which our society represents, as I understand its posi-
tion, speaking for myself alone. First and foremost this society
stands for the idea of law, universal, immutable, inexorable law —
law without variableness or shadow of turning. Whence its
source or where its seat we do not know — we do not pretend to
know. That is the mystery of mysteries. We know it only in
its operation and we know and feel that we too, in common with
the universe, visible and invisible, are subject to its operations;
that we are held in firm allegiance to this universal law, an alle-
giance which we could not break if we would and would not if
we could. In the presence of this universal law ancient myths,
whether of Greek, Roman, Egyptian, Chaldean, Phenician,
Hindoo or Hebrew origin, as the basis of ethics, have no place.
They form no basis for our faith. They illustrate the fertility
of the imagination of men in the dark before the light of science
had arisen to reveal the operations of this universal law. This
law includes all the moral order of the universe, and first and
foremost is the principle of justice, which if properly considered
includes all ethical principles and all their applications; without
which ethics is an unmeaning term.
Mr. A. S. Bradley said:
The question has been asked, " What does the Ethical Culture
Society stand for? " I would answer that it stands for the pro-
duction of a higher type of human character, a factor in the evo-
lution of character and conduct — the only aim for which life is
worth living. It stands for it as the quasi science of antiquity
stood for the development of steam, chemistry and electricity; as
the philosophy of ancient India and Egypt stood for modern
philosophy. But the important question for us as individuals to
consider is, not what the society stands for, but whether we are
worthy, to use the words of Lincoln, "to be dedicated to this un-
finished work." It is our own character and conduct which first
needs our attention; and in this regard the maintenance of these
lectures chiefly concerns us, that we may be faithfully reminded
of duties unperformed, of duties to be performed, so that we or
our children may
"rise on stepping-stones
Of our dead selves to higher things."
As Mr. Salter says: "Evolution goes on rapidly or creeps
along painfully according as our thoughts are quick or slow and
dead." But let it seem fast or slow, the cause of free-thought
must ever advance, and we will still say to the priesthood as
Galileo said, "// mo-rs.'" And let our work fail; we will yet say,
"They never fail who work for a great cause. Though years
elapse they but augment the deep and sweeping thoughts which
overpower all others and conduct the world at last to freedom.
Mr. H. de Roode was the next speaker:
Perhaps as a man of business I may point you to the encour-
agement I feel in the growth and development of this society;
standing as it does for a new principle, and realizing the spirit of
the poet who saw " sermons in stones and good in everything."
I already look upon this society, though so young, as a great
factor in shaping the ethics of practical life in our great city, and
even teaching the pulpits, yea out of their own Scriptures, the
new and higher meaning of human life. My friends, hundreds
of years ago the spirit of a dull age was lifted to higher ground
by the watchword of a zealous apostle: "To the greater glory of
God." As it has ever been and is now, our altars must ever be
inscribed: "To the unknown God," but let our mission be none
the less sublime if, clad in the garments of righteousness, we un-
furl to the breeze of progress a banner of salvation with the
nobler motto: "To the greater glory of Man."
The remarks of Mr. Joseph W. Errant, the last
speaker, were as follows:
My friends, the way to make the new ethics a part of our
lives, a part of our natures, so that it shall be a permanent factor
is to work in the fields of practical ethics. This is the test of the
inspiration of ethics, our practical adherence to the obligations
which it imposes. The training school is the work of the world,
it is this which makes ethics real and practical; it is for the home
for the school, for the manufacturer, for the professional man.
The future will be then what we make it. At our door lie
great and pressing problems begging to be taken in; they belong
to us; they have a right to ask for admission. Moral questions
cannot be voted down by numbers. They call for thought, for
justice, for action. Moral questions cannot be kept out of sight,
they have a constant tendency to come to the light, where thev
belong.
Oh, what great opportunities are ours! and in this moral
work who is there that will not gladly join, who does not feel
upon him the obligation to do and dare for the right.
CORRESPONDENCE.
CRITICISM OF THE PULPIT.
GEORGE JACOB HOLYOAKE TO THE DUKE OF ARGYLL.
To the Editors:
The following letter, which I recently addressed to the Duke
of Argyll, explains itself and its occasion:
As one who is interested in the secular and moral discus-
sion of pulpit teaching, I venture to write to your Grace on
behalf of many of a similar way of thinking, concerning the
remarks with which your article opens in the March number of
the Nineteenth Century. The eminence and influence of your
Grace, not of rank merely, but what is of more merit in our eyes
— in oratory and literature, must be our apology for attaching
importance to your words.
In reph ing to and, in effect, reproving Pro'essor Huxley for
his criticism ol certain misleading teachings by Canon Liddon,your
Grace says: " The pulpit has hitherto enjoyed no', perhaps, abso-
lute, but, at least, a general and customary immunity from con-
troversy or reply. It is surely well that this custom should be
respected."
Why so? Is not the priest more dangerous than the politi-
cian? It is by the contradiction of the politician and putting him
1 66
THB OPEN COURT.
to the proof, that the public prevent his tongue from being per-
nicious. The politician speaks in the name of reason which
admits of appeal. The priest professes to speak with the voice of
God, against which there is no appeal; and if the words of the
priest are unquestioned his errors come to be regarded as divine.
It is singular that the Duke of Argyll should deprecate the criti-
cism of the clergy — he who is of a race and is the head of a clan,
who never shrank even from the more serious criticism of the
claymore. Are not the clergy trained for feats of theological
arms? Asa rule they have claws like those of an octopus. The
courteous sort wear a velvet glove, but underneath is a hand ot
iron, which ihey call their " mission." Some, indeed, have a real
human hand within the glove, but they are all suspected by their
brethren as " unsound " somewhere " in the faith." What exemp-
tion do they need from controversy ? They can get aid by prayer,
while their adversaries must depend upon themselves. God
stands behind the priest, the law is with him. Canon Liddon has
the influence and arrogance of the State Church on his side.
Popular prejudice protects him. The mob, ill-dressed and well-
dressed, applaud the priest, however insolent he may be — and he
often is insolent — while his secular critic is commonly unfriended,
unsupported and unencouraged.
Your Grace considers that the pulpiteer " is debarred by his
occupation from pursuing disputation as others can." Then why
does he dispute, himselt? His life is a ceaseless attack upon
others. He thrusts himself into every school and into every
house. He does not respect the sickroom. He attacks the
dying, he defames the character of the dead. To reply to the
proselytizing priest is well understood self-defense. A man may
intercede with heaven on his own account, but he may neither
pray for nor preach to others without offense, unless he gives
them the means of self-protection, by declaring his purpose and
inviting their protest if they wish to make it. It ought to be an
offense at law for any priest to use his influence with heaven pri-
vately, and get a supernatural battery discharged upon others
secretly, without according them means of self-protection by dis-
puting the validity of his clandestine and officious intercession.
What would your grace say to a soldier, who prodded all he
met with his propagandist bayonet, and when they desired to
criticise him in the same way declared that he was debarred Irom
being subjected to that species of controversy? The clergyman
or minister who preaches any tenet, and does provide that all who
hear shall then and there question him — in self-defense il so
minded — is simply an assassin of the understanding, and ought to
be treated as such. Discussion is self-protection against error,
and he who withholds or presents that protection is a traitor to
the truth, whatever may be his mission or his motives. How
much more useful is the language of Mr. Gladstone to the
students of the Liverpool College, to whom he declared that
Christianity could no longer be defended by ra ling or reticence —
which means that priests must no longer defame opinions instead
of confuting them, and that abstention from controversy, on any
pretext, is unseemly and perilous. The soldier of trust may be a
combatant.
No canon spares Professor Huxley when he thinks he can
make a point against him. Why should Professor Huxley spare a
canon who makes points against the truth of science? So many
unfit and pretentious persons speak in the name of God until he
is compromised by them, competent beyond most preachers to
represent Deity, as Canon Liddon is, yet even he is not infallible,
and if his speech on behalf of God is rendered exact by criticism,
that is a tribute, and no mean tribute, to heaven. Since God him-
self is silent no words spoken in his name can be trusted, until
they are verified and clarified by debate. The priest himself
should be the first to invite it lest he unwittingly make an offer-
ing of error on the altar. If it be a duty to seek the truth and to
live the truth, honest discussion which discerns it, identifies it,
clears it and establishes it, is a form of worship of real honor of
God and of true service of man. We, therefore, pray your Grace
not to discourage it.
I had the pleasure to receive a reply from the Duke of
Argyll, in which he said that "I had written under a misconcep-
tion, as his observations on pulpit criticism had no reference to
any thing but spoken sermons — not formally published and of
which there is no authorized report." These the Duke would
" treat as privileged communications not addressed to the general
public, but to special congregations. When the clergy enter on
the field of literature by published writings," his Grace regards
"their teachings as open to comment and controversy." The
Duke adds that " he now-a-days never sees among the clergy the
spirit of personal bitterness which seems to animate my letter,"
and he "feels sure that truth can never be reached without some
candor, calmness and reasonableness of spirit, both as regards the
subject matter and as regards the feelings towards those from
whom we differ." As respects these qualities of "candor, calm-
ness and reasonableness of spirit," as conditions necessary in the
search for truth, I quite agree with the illustrious writer. Con-
sideration for the feelings or even intellectual rights of others
have seldom been a Christian virtue. It is happily now becom-
ing more common, but the degree in which the Duke of Argyll
possesses it is far from being general.
I made frank acknowledgment to his Grace for the courtesy
of his letter, adding that " I counted it a great influence in favor
of truth that his Grace regards the published writings of the
clergy as open to controversy." For reasons I have stated, I am
still of opinion that sermons are serious assaults upon the under-
standing and emotions of congregations, who are without the
protection of criticism. My letter concludes as follows:
It was certainly a lack of art on my part to give your Grace the
impression that I wro'e in "bitterness," which is not in my
mind. It is my good fortune to possess the friendship of many
famous priests, clergymen and ministers for whom I have real
respect and, for some, affection. This does not prevent my
seeing their errors of conviction and duty; nor prevent them dis-
cerning and dissenting from mine. Many clergymen are gentle-
men as well as Christians, but more are Christians only.
With the nobler sort of priests controversy is considerate
and fair, which is the manliest form of propagand sm. Wor-
ship is every man's right, undisturbed and unquestioned — but
preaching is no man's right, unless he concedes to the hearer the
seif-detense of inquiry or reply. Controversy should be rel-
evant, unimputative and decorous — and from whom can this
be expected so well as from priests, who have supernatural
advantages over their secular hearers? They should be able to
regard the errors of men as the physician does diseases, and after
like passionless inspection and inquiry, the clergy should apply
the remedy of instruction in truth. Foolish discussion may
destroy the moral of a fine discourse, but this depends upon the
preacher and the public want of discipline in debate, which only
habit can give. Some years ago I published a little his:ory of a
trial which befell me. I was indicted, tried and sentenced to six
months' imprisonment by a judge distinguished for his Christian,
ity — and this not for words published, nor voluntarily spoken,
not for words premeditated, but simply given in debate in answer
to a question. Even if I felt it, some "bitterness" would be par-
donable in one who lives under a state of law maintained by the
Christian priesthood, which gives them absolute immunity, say
what they may, and inflicts serious penalties upon those who
may in self-defense give utterance lo their equally rightful opin-
ions. Since, however, debate is the only protection of truth, I
am in favor of discussion under whatever disadvantages; nor do
I see the validity of objection on the part of any who agree with
St. Paul that we should "prove a.l things; hold fast that which is
good." George Jacob Holyoake.
FREE-THOUGHT EDUCATION.
To the Editors: Orange, N.J.
I must own that I am agreeably surprised by the interest
which my brief article on Free-thought Education has aroused-
and am led to hope that it may at last result in something prac-
tical. My critic, Mr. Jappe, finds fault with me for suggesting a
college, and not a lyceum, unaware, apparently that college is the
more usual, and if he will permit me to say so, the more correct
term. We speak of Eton College, not of Eton Lyceum. (Com-
pare Matthew Arnold's articles on A French Eton; also Webster's
Dictionary). He seems to know only the ordinary American
meaning of the term college. In any case, we both mean and
desire the same thing, and we shall not quarrel over words.
I am entirely agreed with Mr. Leahy, and quite as wide-
awake as he, to the necessity of rousing the free-thinkers of
America to united action in the matter of education. But I am
too well acquainted with them to have much faith that they will
soon display any such action on a large scale. My hope lies in
inducing a small number of the more silent and earnest among
THE OPEN COURT.
167
them to unite and form a college in the true sense,* and so to
rear a generation of freethinkers who shall be doers, and not
mere talkers, as the present generation so largely is.
The Free-thin iers? Magazine has done me the honor to reprint
my little article as an editorial, and the editor has requested me
to express my views on Free-thought Education, at greater
length for that periodical. I have accordingly done so, and the
result will appear in the next number. I need not repeat what I
have said there. I would only repeat my appeal to all liberal
men and women in this land, to bestir themselves, and do
son jLhing in behalf of the cause which they profess to sustain,
Ciid to aid in redeeming men and women from a stupefying,
degrading and hypocritical superstition, and in restoring them to
the liberty of reason and science. I have no idea of establishing
anything to compete with Harvard or Yale. The evil done by
unfree-thought education is done long before young men reach
institutions of that grade. What I am advocating can be begun
on a small scale and with moderate means; in fact, with one
teacher and one pupil. The American passion for bigness could
only be prejudicial to it. I am amused to see that so many peo-
ple think free-thought a form of sectarianism. To me free-
thought means a reverent acceptance and following of all clearly
demonstrated truth, and I hardly think that the unprejudiced fol-
lowers of that could fairlv be called a sect, or their tenets secta-
rian. But perhaps I am wrong.
I have not the smallest desire to make my name prominent in
this matter; for all popularitv, and all quest for popularity are
unspeakably hateful to me; but, until an abler leader can be
found, I am willing to do what I can to help this most important
movement through its pioneer stage. If I can, in any measure,
succeed in doing this, I shall then be most ready to transfer the
work to worth' r and stronger hands.
I am now deavoring to work out the plan of a complete
system of Free-th ight Education. When finished and printed,
it will make a large pamphlet, almost a book, and I shall endeavor
to give it a wide circulation. If it does nothing else, it will, at
least, call out an expression of opinion.
If the friends of Free-thought Education, instead of wasting
time in talking and disputing, will come forward, and say what
they are willing to do, what efficient aid, in the way of means or
work, they are willing to lend, then we shall be able to make a
beginning at least, and, as the Scotch say, a work begun is half-
ended.
What we really want is a kind of Co-operative Pedagogical
Province, a miniature societv, in which young persons may be
trained for the great society of humanity. Might it not be well to
reprint in The Open Court, the delightful account given by
Goethe (the apostle of Free-thought Education) of the " Pedagogi-
cal Province " visited by his Wilhelm Meister? [Wandety'ahre,
Bjok II.)
Let us have at once an association calling itself The Free-
thought Education Society. Let it be incorporated; let it collect
funds, seek out capable directors and instructors, and set to work
to found a Free-thought College, in some healthy country place.
If persons willing to spend and be spent in such an enterprise,
will send their names to me, stating at the same time what they are
willing to do, I will call a meeting of them, in the course of the
summer, at some convenient time and place, and then the whole
matter can be thoroughly discussed. Thomas Davidson.
BOOK REVIEWS.
The twentieth annual meeting of the Free Religious Associa-
tion will be held in Tremont Temple, Boston, May 26 and 27,
commencing on Thursday, May 26, at 7:45 p. M., in Vestry Hall,
SS Tremont st., with a Business Session for hearing reports, elect-
ing officers, etc. F. M. Holland, Secretary.
* Webster defined College a.s "A society of scholars incorporated for the
purposes of study or instruction." This is precisely what I want.
The Religious Sentiment: Its Source and Aim, a Contribu-
tion to the Science and Philosophy of Religion. By Daniel
G. Brinton, A.M., M.D. New York : Henry Holt & Co.,
1S76.
The author says in the preface: "The 'science of religion,'
as we know it in the works of Burnouf, Miiller and others, is a
comparison of systems of worship in their historic development.
The deeper inquiry as to what in the mind of man gave birth to
religion in any of its forms, what spirit breathed and is ever
breathing life into these dry bones, this, the final and highest
question of all, has had but passing or prejudiced attention. To
its investigation this book is devoted."
Mr. Brinton approaches his subject analytically and by the
inductive method. The main questions of his inquiry are:
"What led men to imagine gods at all? What still prompts
enlightened nations to worship? Is prayer of any avail, or of
none? Is faith the last ground of adoration, or is reason? Is
religion a transient phase of development, or is it the chief end of
man? What is its warrant of continuance? If it overlive this
day of crumbling theologies, whence will come its reprieve?"
Mr. Brinton's ways of thinking are decidedly monistic. He
introduces Oken's dictum : Mind is co-extensive with organism,
and he quotes Wilhelm von Humboldt's words: "The old dual-
ism of mind and body which for centuries struggled in vain for
reconciliation, finds it now, not indeed in the unity of substance
but in the unity of laws." And Mr. Brinton says (on page S),
" Wherever we see form preserved amid the change of substance,
there is mind." In both quotations and in many other passages
of his book, Mr. Brinton accepts, and nothing short of it, the
fundamental principles of monism, although he never uses the
word.
Treating in Chapter I, of the laws of mind and thought,
Mr. Brinton proposes that the logical law of the excluded middle
is the keystone of religious philosophy. He objects to Mr.
Spencer's view of the unknowable. " Those philosophers," he
savs on page 39, " such as Herbert Spencer, who teach that there
is some incogitable ' nature' of something which is the immanent
'cause' of phenomena, delude themselves with words. The
history and the laws of a phenomenon are its nature, and there
is no chimerical something beyond them. They are exhaustive.
They fully answer the question why as well as the question how."
The second chapter is devoted to the emotional ingredients
of religious sentiment. Fear, hope and love are its chief elements
and the part sexual love plays in religions, receives full apprecia-
tion. But religion is not merely an affair of feelings. It must
assume some rational postulates which involve, as explained in
Chapter III, that there is an intelligent order in the world.
"Thus we reach the foundation for the faith in a moral govern-
ment of the world, which it has been the uniform characteristic
of religions to assert." Bunson expresses it, as quoted on page
109, "The faith of all historical religions starts from the assump-
tion of a universal moral order, in which the good is alone the
true, and the true is the only good."
Prayer, in Chapter IV, is claimed to have a positive effect on
the mind, joyful emotions are its fruits, spiritual enlightenment, as
religious people call it, its reward. The answer to prayer, it is
claimed by religious minds, comes by inspiration which Mr.
Brinton calls cntheasm.
In Chapter V, religious myths, in Chapter VI, the cult, its
symbols and its rites are treated. As the momenta of religious
thought are named in Chapter VII: (1) the idea of the perfected
individual; (2) the idea of the perfected commonwealth, and (3)
the idea of personal survival. The last of these three ideas is de-
creasing as a religious moment owing to a better understanding
1 68
THK OPEN COURT.
of ethics, to more accurate cosmical conceptions, to clearer defi-
nitions of life and to the increasing immateriality of religions.
Mr. Brinton declares the doctrine of personal survival to be ego-
tistic and " the spirit of true religion," he adds, " wages constant
war with the predominance or even presence of selfish aims."
We sometimes miss, for instance in Chapter I, a definite and
clear statement of the author's own views, we also differ from his
views in many details, and, concerning the high aim he has pro-
posed to himself, it may be doubted whether he has satisfac-
torily answered all the questions of his problem. But the spirit
and general character of the book must impress the reader with
the earnestness and scholarship of its author and with the fact
that his work contains most valuable contributions to a right un-
derstanding of religion and religious sentiment. Paul Carus.
Absolute Relativism; or, The Absolute in Relation.
By William Bell McTaggart. London : W. Stewart &_Co., 41
Farringdon street, S. E. Vol. I, pp. 133.
The object of this work is to examine the leading systems of
philosophy and to show that, while none of them have repre-
sented the entire truth, they have all been stepping-stones to truer
and better thought. The various religions and philosophies are
regarded as facets reflecting some portions of the truth. The val-
uable elements of each, with its errors omitted, our author
attempts to combine in a synthetic philosophy, which he calls
"Absolute Relativism."
We can only indicate the leading train of thought. The mate-
rialist says that the ego and the non-ego are manifestations or
functions or potentialities of matter. The idealist says that ego
is mind, and non-ego is mind; that all the qualities of what is
termed matter are shown in the last analysis to be properties of
mind, and that the stimulus, or "otherness," necessary to mind
before it can have cognition of even itself, must be mind.
Mr. McTaggart holds that a proposition can be formulated
which will be acceptable alike to careful thinkers, whether they
call themselves materialists or idealists. The philosophical neces-
sity of postulating some stimulus to which the mind responds
prior to effect, some "otherness" from which the mind may dis-
tinguish itself, some impulse to which the mind may respond,
must be admitted. The materialist says this stimulus is only
matter; the idealist affirms that it is only mind. Mr. McTaggait
tells the materialist that matter is regarded by all schools o
thought as unknowable per se, " for the reason that it cannot be
known out of mentation. A green leaf, for example, does not
exist in the universe apart from the power of mind " (for the
reason that color, form and substance are words which stand for
conscious states, modes in which our consciousness is affected).
To the idealist the externality or stimulus is just as inscrutable.
" May not this stimulus or irritation be internal, a feature or poten-
tiality of the mind? May not, in other words, the mind be its
own stimulus and response to stimulus? An adequate considera-
tion will show us that it may not. Given the mind in unity as
alone the generator of all things, then it must forever remain
blank and dark, silent, infertile. Why? Because if we consider
what we mean by production in its simplest form, it is equivalent
to change. But what is change? It is something that was not
there before; some force, some movement has arisen which makes
the ego different from what it was before. * * * The force may
be postidated as being in the ego since the beginning; hut what
started it out of potentiality into activity? What set the ferment
going? Clearly something not there before; but, if the ego was
all in all, the absolute, then there was, and is, nothing else to
6et this ferment in motion. No appulse, no impulse can arise;
for there is nothing, — no when, no where, — to so arise to disturb
the balance or alter the eternal equation. * * * Much, nay,
most, may be the ego; but that there is an actuality, a something,
outside and beyond as the non-ego, is a demonstrated certainty."
The mistake of the idealist consists in the fancy that mind
must stimulate itself, and be the be-all and end of creation. The
doctrine that there is no difference between the ego and the non-
ego by making the two identical, destroys all possibilities or poten-
tialities of them both. To this impasse comes also the materialist
at the same crucial point of the investigation. If matter, — that
is, ultimate homogeneous atoms, each endowed with necessarily
equivalent force, — is all in all, then can there be nothing to set
the ferment going. Mass and motion, passivity and activity,
action and reaction, this dual principle is the great underlying
verity.
There is an externality, a stimulus, as in the case of a tree,
which has the power of £gain and again stimulating the mind, so
that fresh ideas are evolved whenever the occasions occur.
Turned in upon itself mind or matter remains unfertilized, unfer-
tilizable.
The common truth of materialism and idealism is that "other-
ness " exists ; that other minds and other existences also, modified,
idealized, created, in a sense, by ourselves, but existing outside
and beyond our mentation, each after its own fashion notwith-
standing. As a corollary thereto, without stimulus no mind, and
without response to stimulus no body, or without stimulus, con-
tained within the unknown x, no mind. Without response to
stimulus, contained within the unknown x, nobody. "Stimulus
or the underlying principle of otherness, is of the unknown sub-
stratum, or philosophers' matter. Response to stimulus, or the
underlying principle of self or identity, is of the unknown sub-
stratum, or philosophers' matter. Mind is a compound of unity;
it is stimulus plus response to stimulus, which, as a phase of the
unknown v, or matter, the basis of mind is demonstrated to be
something or other apart from mind. Mind can know mental
manifestations, ideas onlv ; but in these ideas there is discover-
able an actuality of otherness which gives rise to what we term
the physical and extended.
" ' No mind no body,' has been proved as the truth ; but no mind
no matter, can by no means be allowed to pass. Matter, the
unknown x in the phase or activity of stimulus, must, as we have
seen, be admitted as a thing apart; for mind alone, unfertilizedi
unenergized, remains forever unconscious of itself, a potentiality,
but nothing more."
We give but the merest outline of the thought presented in
this volume, which is to be followed by others to be devoted to an
exposition of" the author's "Absolute Relativism," " the selected
name for a system which, it is hoped, may offer a new departure
for philosophic thought, and to an analytical examination of the
sociological outcome of the various creeds of the past, with an
effort to point out the logical nexus between."
The author is constructive in his method, reconciliative in
spirit, keen in analysis, respectful to all schools of thought, yet
independent in criticism and approval of the views of other think-
ers, and vigorous and lucid in style. Without going into detail,
we are free to say that we regard the work as an able and valua-
ble contribution to the philosophic discussion of the day.
The Pioneer Quakers. By Richard P. /lallowcll. Boston:
Houghton, Mifflin & Co., 1887.
This little book of 98 pages embodies the gist, in the form of a
lecture, prepared by request for a Boston Literary Club, of the
history of the Quakers as given in the author's larger work pub-
lished in 1883, The .Quaker Invasion of Massachusetts, with addi-
tional notes bringing that history down to a later period. Eight
pages of index show the variety of topics treated in this lecture
and more than a dozen authorities are quoted, which appear
not to have been consulted in the larger work. The work marks
an epoch in the history of American free-thought.
The Open Court
A Fortnightly Journal,
Devoted to the Work of Establishing Ethics and Religion Upon a Scientific Basis.
Vol. I. No.
^-
CHICAGO, MAY 12, 1887.
( Three Dollars per Year.
i Single Copies, 15 cts.
ON MEMORY AS A GENERAL FUNCTION OF
ORGANIZED MATTER.*
AN ADDRESS DELIVERED ON OCCASION OF THE SOLEMN MEETING OF THE
IMPERIAL ACADEMY OF SCIENCES, AT VIENNA, MAY 30, MDCCCLXX.
BY EWALfj HERING,
MEMBER OF THE IMPERIAL ACADEMY OF SCIENCES.
Translated by Dr. Pan! Cams, from t/ie Second Edition, published by Cart
Gerald's Solm, Wien, 187b.
(Translation Copyrighted.)
Part II.— (Concluded.)
Now let me finally consider those facts in which the
strength of memory in organized matter strikes us most
powerfully.
On the basis of numerous facts, we may justly
assume that even such qualities of an organism can be
transferred to its posterity as have not been inherited
but were acquired under peculiar circumstances of life.
Thus every organic being endows its germs with some
small inheritance which was acquired during the indi-
vidual life of the parental organism and is added to the
greater heirloom of the whole race.
Considering that properties were inherited which
had been developed on diverse organs of the parental
being, it appeared highly enigmatic how these same
organs could have influenced the germ which developed
in some distant place. So it happened that as a solution
of this problem mystic views were often propounded.
The subject may be best comprehended from a
physiological standpoint in this way:
The nervous system in spite of its being a composi-
tion of many thousands of cells and fibers, nevertheless
forms one coherent entirety. It is in communication
with all organs; according to later histological researches,
it is assumed that it is connected even with every cell
of the more important organs, be it directly or at least
indirectly through a living, irritable and therefore con-
ductible cell substance. By means of this connection,
all organs, it is possible, are more or less interdependent
so as to make the destinies of one re-echo in the others;
and if in any way some irritation takes place in one, it is
transfused if ever so feebly, to the remotest parts of
the body. In addition to this delicate communication of
all parts through the nervous tissue, another, a slower
and more sluggish communication takes place, that of
the circulating fluids.
•Presented to the readers of The Open Court as part of his Monistic
views, by Edward C. Hegeler.
We notice further on that the process of development
of the germs which are destined to attain an inde-
pendent existence, exercises a powerful reaction upon
both the conscious and unconscious life of the whole
organism. And this is a hint that the organ of germin-
ation is in a closer and more momentous relation to the
other parts, especially to the nervous system, than any
other organs. In an inverse ratio, the conscious and
unconscious destinies of the whole organism, it is most
probable, find a stronger echo in the germinal vessels
than elsewhere.
This is the path it must be recognized, on which we
have to look for the material link between the acquired
properties of an organism and such quiddities of a germ
as may redevelop the parental qualities.
You may object that an immaterial something can-
not be the determinative for the future development of
germs so like each other, it must rather be the peculiar
character of its material composition. But I answer:
The curves and planes which a mathematician imagines,
or accepts as imaginable, are more numerous and mani-
fold than the shapes of the organic world. Let us
imagine almost infinitely small fragments of all possible
curves ; they will bear a closer resemblance to each other
than one germ does to another. Nevertheless the whole
curve is latent in each fragment and suppose a mathe-
matician extends it in its directions, it will grow into
the peculiar curve which has been determined by the
form of its small fragmentary part.
Therefore it is erroneous to declare that we cannot
imagine such minute differences in germs as in this
case must be assumed by physiology.
An infinitely minute dislodgment of a point or a
complex of points in the fragment of a curve will alter
the law of its entire course. Exactly so an evanescent
influence of the parental organism upon the molecular
structure of its germ suffices to regulate its whole
future development.
Now, then, the reappearance of properties of the
parental organism in the full grown filial organism can
be nothing else but the reproduction of such processes
of organized matter, as the germ when still in the ger-
minal vessels had taken part in; the filial organism
remembers, so to say, those processes, and as soon as an
occasion of the same or similar irritations is offered, a
reaction takes place as formerly in the parental organism,
170
THE OPEN COURT.
of which then it was a part, and whose destinies
influenced it.
If in a parental organism by long habit or constant
practice something grows to be its second nature, so as
to permeate, if it were ever so feebly, also its germinal
cells, and if the germinal cells commence an indepen-
dent life, they aggrandize and grow till they form a
new being, but their single parts still remain the sub-
stance of the parental being, they are bones of its bones,
and flesh of its flesh. If, then, the filial organisms repro-
duce what they experienced as a smaller part of a
greater whole, this fact is marvelous indeed, but no
more than when an old man is surprised by reminis-
cences of his earliest childhood. Whether it be the
very same organized substance still which reproduces
old experiences, or whether it be its descendant and
offspring, a part of itself, which in the meantime
deployed and grew, is a difference which, apparently,
is one of degree, not of kind. Now, is it not strange
that we are engaged at all in considerations, how trifl-
ing inheritances of the parental organism can be repro-
duced in the filial being, as if we had forgotten that the
filial organism is nothing but one great reproduction of
the parental organism, even in its minutest details?
This is because we are so accustomed to accept their
similarity as granted, that we are astonished at find-
ing a child who is to some degree not quite like
its mother, and yet the fact of its being in so
many thousand ways like its parent is much more won-
derful!
If the substance of a germ is able to reproduce
what the parental organism acquired during its indi-
vidual life, how much more will it be able to reproduce
what is innate in the parental organism and has been
repeated through innumerable generations in the same
organized matter of which the germ of to-day, after all,
is, and remains but a part. Is it then to be wondered
at, that those things which organized matter has experi-
enced on numberless occasions are impressed stronger
into the memory of a germ, than the incidents of one
single life? Every organic being which lives to-day,
is the latest link of an immeasurable series of organic
beings, of which one rose into existence from the other,
and one inherited part of the acquired properties of the
other. The beginning of this series, it must be assumed,
are organisms of extremest simplicity like those which
are known to us as organic germ cells. In considera-
tion of this, the whole series of such beings appears as
the work of the reproductive faculty which was
inherent in the substance of the first organic form with
which the whole development started. When this first
germ divided, it bequeathed to its descendants its prop-
erties; the immediate descendants added new properties
and every new germ reproduced to a great extent the
modi operandi of its ancestors; part of which grew
feebler, because under altered circumstances their repro-
duction was no longer elicited.
Thus every organized being of our present time is
the product of the unconscious memory of organized
matter. Constantly increasing and dividing, constantly
assimilating new and excreting waste matter, constantly
recording new experiences in their memory in order to
reproduce it over and over again, it was shaped richer
and more perfect the longer it lived.
The whole history of an individual development as
observed in a higher organized animal is, from this point
of view, a continuous chain of reminiscences of the evo-
lution of all those beings which form the ancestral series
of this particular animal. A complicated perception
takes place through a volatile, and, as it were, a super-
ficial reproduction of cerebral processes which have been
practiced long and carefully; exactly so a growing germ
passes quickly and summarily through a series of phases
which were developed and fixed, step by step, in the
memory of organized matter in the series of its ances-
tral beings during a life of incalculable duration. This
view was preconceived repeatedly; it took shape in
various theories, but was rightly understood by one sci-
entist of later days. For truth hides in different shapes
before the eyes of its aspirers until it is revealed to the
elect.
A body, an organ, or a cell reproduces simultaneously
with its shape as well as with its interioi and exterior
formation, also its functions. A chick which creeps
out of its shell at once runs about, as did its mother
when she, as a chick, had broken her shell. Imagine
how extraordinarily complicated are the motions and
sensations of such acts! Only consider the difficulty of
equipoising its body in running, and the supposition of
an innate reproductive faculty alone, it must be conceded,
can serve as an explanation of these intricate perform-
ances. The execution of some motion which was exer-
cised during the greatest part of an individual life
becomes second nature, and the actions of a whole race
which are repeated over and over again by each mem-
ber of the race must also become second nature.
The chick is not only endowed with an inborn skill
concerning its motions, but possesses, also, a strongly
developed perceptive faculty. Without hesitation it
picks the grains which are thrown to it. This implies
that it sees them, that it correctly conceives the direction
of their situation and their distance; moreover, it has to
move its head and other limbs with great precision. All
these things could not be learned in the egg-shell; they
have been learned by those many thousands of beings
which lived before this chick, and of which it is the
direct offspring.
The memory of organized matter is strikingly recog-
nizable in this instance. Such a feeble irritation as the
rays produce which proceed from a grain and fall upon
THE OPEN COURT.
171
the retina of the chicken, becomes an occasion for the
reproduction of a complicated series of sensations, per-
ceptions and motions, which in this individual never as
yet had been combined, and which, nevertheless, from
the beginning were arranged with accuracy and precis-
ion, as if the very same animal had practiced them thou-
sands of times. Such surprising performances of ani-
mals are generally called instincts; and some physicists
indulged in mystic explanations of instincts. If instinct
is considered as the result of memory, or reproductive
faculty of organized matter, if we assume that also the
race is endowed with memory, instinct is comprehended
at once, and the physiologist is enabled to insert instinct
into and connect it with the one great series of such
facts as were found to be the phenomena of a repro-
ductive faculty. In this way we have not yet gained,
but certainly we approach, a physical explanation of the
problem.
If, for instance, a caterpillar changes into a chrysa-
lis, or if a bird builds a nest, or a bee constructs a cell,
such animals obeying their instincts act with conscious-
ness and are no unconscious machines. They know to
some extent how to alter their actions under changed
circumstances and are liable to err; they feel pleasure if
their work proceeds and displeasure if they meet obsta-
cles. They learn by working, it must be assumed, and
birds, no doubt, build their nests better a second time
than first. But if animals so easily find the most prac.
tical means of attaining their ends the very first time, if
their motions are so excellently and perfectly adapted to
their purposes, it is due to the inherited tenor of the
memory of their nervous substance which only awaits
an occasion to work in full conformity with the situation,
and remembers just what is necessary for that occasion.
It is striking how easilv dexterities are acquired if
sufficient limitation is exercised. Onesidedness produces
virtuosity. He who admirers a spider for spinning his
cobwebs, should bear in mind how limited are his other
faculties. Nor should we forget that he did not learn
his art himself, it was acquired in slow degrees by
innumerable generations of spiders, and this art is almost
all they learned. Man takes bow and arrows if his nets
fail to catch food, the spider must starve.
Thus the body, it is seen, and what is of greater
import, the whole nervous system of a newborn animal
is prefigurated and predisposed for its intercourse with
the surrounding world into which it enters; it is prepared
to respond to irritations and influences in the same way
as was done by its ancestors.
We cannot expect that the brain and nervous system
of man is an exception from this rule.
Certainly man must learn with difficulty, while the
animal from its birth is finished in its instincts; however,
the human brain immediately after birth is at a much
greater distance from the pitch of its development than
the brain of an animal. Its growth not only takes
longer time, but is much stronger. The human brain,
we may say, is much younger when it enters into the
world than the animal brain. The animal is born pre-
cocious and at once behaves precociously. It is like a
phenomenal child whose brain is overmatured and too
old as it were, so as to be unable to develop as richly as
does another brain which is less finished and inured to
work but fresher and more youthful. The scope for
the individual development of the human brain and
generally of the human body is much larger because a
relatively great part of its development lies in the time
after birth. It grows under the influences of its sur-
roundings which affect its senses, and acquires under
such circumstances in a more individual way, what an
animal has received in the fixed formation of its race.
A far-reaching memory, or reproductive faculty, we
must take it as granted, is to be ascribed to the whole
body, as well as particularly to the brain of a newborn
man. By dint of this memory he is enabled to learn
those attainments which were developed in his ances-
tors some thousand times and are necessary for his life,
much quicker and easier. What appears to be instinct
in animals, in man appears, in a freer form, as a predispo-
sition. Certainly ideas are not inborn in an infant, but
the ability of the ready and precise crystallization of
ideas from a complicate mixture of sensations, is due
not to the labor of the child, but to the labor of innu-
merable ancestors.
Theories of individual consciousness, according to
which it is assumed that each human soul starts life for
itself and commences a development of its own, as if
the thousands of generations before had been in exist-
ence in vain, are in a striking discord with facts of daily
experience.
The realm of those cerebral processes which elevate
and distinguish man, it must be conceded, is not of such
antiquity as is the province of the more physical neces-
sities. Hunger and procreative impulse have been stir-
ring even the oldest and simplest forms of organic beings.
Accordingly organic substance has the most powerful
memory for these stimuli, as well as for their satisfac-
tion. The impulses and instincts rising from them take
a firm hold even of the man of to-day with elemental
power. Spiritual life grows slowly, and its most beau-
tiful blossoms belong to the latest epochs of the evolu-
tionary history of organized matter. It is not yet long
that the nervous system is adorned with the ornament
of a grand and rich brain.
Oral and written traditions have been called the
memory of mankind, and this conception is true. But
beside it there is another memory, which is the repro-
ductive faculty of the cerebral substance. Without it,
all written and oral language would be empty and mean-
ingless to later generations; for, if the loftiest ideas were
I72
THE OPEN COURT.
recorded a thousand times in writings or in oral tradi-
tions, they would he nothing to such brains as are not pre-
disposed for them. They must not only be received, they
must be reproduced. If an increasing cerebral potency
were not inherited simultaneously with inner and outer
development of brain, with the wealth of ideas which
are inherited from generation to generation, if an
increased faculty of the reproduction of thoughts did
not devolve upon coming generations simultaneously
with their oral and written traditions, scripts and lan-
guages would be useless.
The conscious memory of man dies with his death;
but the unconscious memory of nature is faithful and
indestructible. Whoever succeeded to impress the ves-
tiges of his work upon it, will be remembered forever.
PERSONAL IMMORTALITY.
BY DANIEL GREENLEAF THOMPSON.
Is there any sufficient reason for the belief in the
continuance of personal mental life after the change we
call death? Unless this question is answered in the af-
firmative, we have no possibility of verifying any hypo-
theses of a supernatural world nor, indeed, any interest
in ascertaining their truth or degree of probability. But
assuming that there is such a continuance, we have the
possibility, at least, of forming a scientific hypothesis
(that is, one capable of verification) in regard to a world
beyond.
I make no account of alleged resurrections from
the dead nor of oral or written communications claim-
ing to come from a supernatural sphere. Let those be-
lieve who can; I do not. And there are plenty of dis-
believers as to all these claims. What the world wants
to know is, have we scientific evidence upon which to
found a rational belief or disbelief upon this question?
If the preachers would only turn scientists and come
and help us, leaving authority behind them, how admir-
able it would be! Some of them are trying to do this,
God bless them, but the majority are obstructionists.
Now, there are two directions in which the methods
of science can be employed with reference to this sub-
ject. Both are methods of observation and experiment,
principally the former. One is introspective observation
of the facts and laws of the human mind, the other is
extrinsic observation of what we are accustomed to call
the external world. From the latter we get all the
knowledge we have of death. What conscious life is we
only know by subjective experience. Regarding con-
sciousness introspectively, we find ourselves unable to
think even an interruption of consciousness, much less
its total and final destruction. It will at once be allowed
that the individual cannot remember the time when I
was not I. Closer examination reveals that I cannot
even suppose a time when I was not, nor am I able to
conceive that I can cease to be. To declare either
involves a contradiction in my thought. If we had none
of the evidence of disappearance and disintegration
which is involved in the death of others, we should
never have the thought that our conscious mental life
could cease, nor even if one were at the point of death
would such an idea be possible for him to entertain.
When, however, we look upon the world about us,
we see beings seemingly endowed with consciousness
like our own. Thus we are compelled to infer and we
reason accordingly. In the first place, we notice with
all these beings that the signs of conscious life are peri-
odically absent as in sleep, or irregularly suspended as in
swoons. Consciousness is interrupted. We even infer
this with respect to ourselves by the observation of
changes for which we cannot account upon any other
supposition. Secondly, we frequently behold an en-
feeblement of mental powers, proceeding concomitantly
with bodily decay and tending toward a total extinguish-
ment. Memory is often lost, the power of ratiocination
likewise and also self-control. Then come the extremes
of mania and idiocy. All these diseased conditions indi-
cate diseased conditions of the nervous system. As just
pointed out we learn that consciousness can be inter-
rupted. Now we are forced to ask, if mind is progess-
ively impaired as the nervous structure is disintegrated,
does not the total disintegration of the latter irresistibly
argue the total destruction of the former? And as a
matter of fact, when death arrives, the evidences of con-
scious personality all disappear, the flame goes out and
is not relighted. Then follows a complete disintegra-
tion of the organized body, in connection with which
we knew this personality. We are not able to trace
any dissolution of mind, further than just stated, that is,
its evidences disappear. Life ceases and with it mind
ceases to be manifest to us; the body is disintegrated
and the processes of this disintegration we can follow
to a considerable extent.
The phenomena of the so-called external world are
interpreted by the best scientific intelligence under those
laws which have for a nucleus the persistence of force
of Mr. Herbert Spencer. Technical physical science
having attached a more specific and limited meaning to
the lermjbrce, many would prefer the expression conser-
vation of energy to the one above employed. This lat-
ter doctrine is that when one kind of energy disappears,
energy of some other kind is produced, and that in the
transformation, nothing is lost quantitatively; or in
words of the other formula, forces are mutually converti-
ble at given rates and in the conversion no force is lost.
Involved with this truth arc the truths that force is per-
sistent, matter is indestructible and motion is consecu-
tive or persistent. When for instance, the ball strikes
the rock the mechanical motion, or some of it, is changed
into thermal motion. Mechanical force ceases and heat
is evolved. Now, in the progress of scientific knowledge,
THE OPEN COURT.
!73
we give a name to each definite unanalyzable form
of force or energy and assign to it an indestructible
reality which we express in such ways as just remarked.
We arc compelled to do this by the conditions of all
knowledge. If, then, mechanical force, A, disappears
and energy as heat, B, appears, in the disappearance of
A we cannot put it out of existence. We say A and B
are correlated ; this means that they co-exist and under
proper conditions A can be made to reappear. If this
were not so, something could become nothing, matter
could be destroyed, motion could be annihilated and
force would not be persistent. Suppose, then, that the
form of organizing energy, which we call life, be indi-
cated by C, while A and B symbolize the mechanical
and chemical forces of the inorganic world ; if A and B
are correlated with C, the conversion of A and B or
either of them into C, or of C into A or B, means in
the one case the disappearance of A or B and the ap-
pearance of C; in the other the converse. When C
disappears we cannot by any possibility of thought an-
nihilate it. If it be a distinct reality, it co-exists with
A and B, is persistent, abides somehow and somewhere.
Then by parity of reasoning, if consciousness is a form
of physical energy, D, and is correlated with C, B, A,
any or all of them, we have no more power of thinking
of its destruction than we have of the destruction of
any other form of energy. D disappears, but if in any-
wise dependent upon C or B, or A, under the laws of
persistence or transformation of energy, it still exists.
It has disappeared, but under proper conditions it will
come back and be manifested as before. So far forth
then as consciousness is to be interpreted by the phe-
nomena of the world external to the ego, it must be in.
terpreted by the laws of the conservation of energy
and so far forth as explained by those laws it must be
held as indestructible. Certainly if consciousness be
material, it is forever persistent. The necessity of cor.
related forces being co-existent has been overlooked bv
philosophers and scientists.* If force A is transformed
into force B, either A still exists, though it has disap-
peared, and can under appropriate conditions be made
to reappear, or an act of annihilation and special creation
has been performed as inexplicable as any that theolo-
gian ever asserted.
However much information we ma}- derive from a
study of the world outside consciousness, it is clear we
cannot get along without introspection even in attaining
a scientific knowledge of external objects. Indeed, if
we reflect carefully, we shall soon find the idea suggest.
ing itself that there are in strictness no " external " ob-
jects, but I do not think the use of the term is upon the
whole objectionable. At all events, when we come to
*Lest the reader may think my ideas upon this point aiv not the result of
sufficient thought, I shall be obliged to ask pardon for referring to my System
of Psychology (London, 1SS4), Vol. I, Chap. XVII, where this whole topic is
more fully discussed.
inquire what constitutes an ultimate form of energy we
discover that it is determined entirely by the answer
that is given to the question, what are the ultimate
modes of sensibility? Heat, we say, is a mode of mo-
tion. Motion, however, is understood only with refer-
ence to the muscular sense. Certain vibrations there
are, to be sure, antecedent to the sensation of warmth;
but all the vibrations in the world will not give heat
unless there is contact with certain nerves so formed as
to develop that sensation. And though we may try to
explain heat in terms of motion according to the law of
correlation, we can in fact only explain it by itself. It
may be produced by material motions, but in last resort,
heat is heat and not the sensation of the muscular sense.
Similarly with light and with sound. We are in each
case driven back to certain ultimate varieties of sensa-
tion. And this is our court of last resort.
Our course of investigation thus must needs pass
from the material to the mental sphere. Here we at
once discover that a state of consciousness is only to be ex-
plained by itself in any of its aspects. A feeling is a
feeling, a cognition is a cognition. But though each of
these is an ultimate and unanalyzable aspect of conscious-
ness, which itself can be resolved into nothing but con-
sciousness, we can observe how states of consciousness
are related and propose to ourselves the problem, — How
is knowledge possible? One thing is speedily disclosed;
that is, there can be no consciousness without represen-
tation. It is necessary for perception, even. Equally is
it indispensable for all purposes of comparison. A sen-
sation occurs and is followed by another; we are
wholly unable to make any comparison between the
two without reproducing the first; we can say that B,
which is present, is unlike A, which has departed, only
representing A in fainter form, a for comparison. Mem-
ory is everywhere necessary to conscious mental life.
How we know an experience as representative is the
mystery of mysteries. Stuart Mill thought it inexpli-
cable and no one has succeeded in resolving the experi-
ence into anything more ultimate. How do I know
that the cognition a is representative of a sensation A,
which once occurred to me? How do I know I saw a
horse running away while I was walking yesterday?
There is no answer save that I remember it. In other
words, representative experience is primordial and ulti-
mate, in the same meaning that sensational experience
is ultimate.
But see what this involves. It implies not merely a
continuity but a unity of personal existence. In recog-
nizing a feeling as the same feeling I had yesterday I
have the idea of self present; of self having a feeling
yesterday ; consciousness of agreement between the two
selves and the two feelings. I cannot distinguish the
presentations to my mind as having been made before,
or in other words, I cannot distinguish a past experience
*74
THE OPEN COURT.
actual, from a simple thought of that experience as pos-
sible, except by postulating; that the experience actually
occurred to me — an ego enduring through all change,
and itself conditional for all successions.* Thus con-
sciousness universally implies a synthetical unity without
whose permanence no coming and going of phenomena
in experience can be thought as possible.
The correspondence between the train of presenta-
tions and that of representations, or, as the old psycholo-
gists used to say, of sensations and ideas, is perfectly
well marked. The succession of representative objects
is governed by a series of laws similar to those which
govern the determination of presentative objects. And
these same dicta that force is persistent, matter is inde-
structible, motion is consecutive, and energy is con-
served, find their exact parallel in the science of mind,
though there is no power of thought to identify matter
with mind, the presentative with the representative.
Memory brings these trains of representative objects, each
involving a knovver, a knowing, and a known. They dis-
appear, but so far forth as they have a distinct unity so
as to be objects to consciousness at all, they cannot be
thought out of existence. They co-exist with the pre-
sentative experiences and when thev are thought of,
they are, of course, thought of as existent, this thought
as just seen postulating personal identity of a present
self with a self as existing in the past; and as for a
beginning or an end of the series, as before remarked,
it is quite impossible to think it.
Thus a reference to mental phenomena, in order to
understand material, forces us to a doctrine of the per-
sistence of the individual consciousness. And such a
reference appears inevitable. We can have no knowl-
edge of matter, force, motion or energy without repre-
sentation; and this last is conceded to be purely mental;
but it involves persistence of the ego.
It may be well to consider, for a moment, what we
mean by destruction. A bird appears in the air before
our eyes, and then disappears. We do not say that he
is destroyed. On the other hand, when a black beetle is
crushed by the foot of the passer-by, and life is extin-
guished, followed by complete disintegration of struct-
ure, we speak of the destruction of the insect. But,
even in this case, as we are accustomed to reason, we do
not allow that the matter composing the insect's organ-
ism is destroyed. Dust it was, and to dust it simply
returns. What, then, is destroyed? The form, if you
please; the something that made the beetle what it
was, the life is gone. Gone to be sure; but how arc we
going to annihilate life any more than the particles of
dust? And in view of what we have just been noticing
in regard to representation, how is it possible that the
form, the mental element, shall be destroyed either? So
far forth as this insect is composed of particles of matter,
*System of Psychology, Chap. IX.
so far forth as its life is force or energy, its destruc-
tion is unthinkable. So far forth as its form is con-
cerned, this being merely the mental apprehension of a
subjective combining power, which is itself indestructi-
ble, we are unable to find destruction there; for we can-
not think anything into nothing. It would thus seem
that the disintegration, which we are wont to call
destruction, is, after all, nothing but disappearance. We
may not in experience meet with a reappearance, but
we are bound to consider it, not only as possible, but as
inevitable under appropriate conditions. In other words,
what once was, is, somehow or somewhere and does not
pass into nothingness.
Then it must be asked, how does it happen that if
we cannot think of anything becoming annihilated peo-
ple are all the while seemingly doing so, and there
exists a necessity of argument to show their error?
How come we to have the idea of something becoming
nothing? A vacuum may be an impossibility, but how
then have we the notion of a vacuum? The answer is
found in the Universal Paradox of Knowledge — a
paradox which is nevertheless the foundation of all cog-
nition. Every positive implies a negative, which can
only be thought in positive terms, which excludes the
positive and is excluded from it but whose existence is
equally necessary with that of the positive. The exist-
ence of the negative is conditional for the reality of the
positive. For every A there is a not- A; for every
finite an infinite; for every known an unknown. This
truth is constantly lost sight of. Mistaken notions as to
space are largely responsible for this; space is given in
sensation as much as force, space and force beinj; correl-
ative sensations; space is a reality as much as is force.
Similar errors are made with regard to time; duration
is not considered, the attention of thinkers being con-
centrated upon succession. The reality and the cer-
tainty of unconscious mind are conditional for conscious
mind. If this were not so, we should never be able to
say that we have forgotten anything. By reason of
this paradox, we are compelled to aver that a vacuum is
a thing as much as a plenum; the former exists as much
as the latter. But in the process of generalization, we
make a universal " all things," which excludes "vacuum,"
but in this very exclusion we imply reality and positive-
ness in the latter. "Nothing" is the negative which is
left in the mind when generalization and integration are
carried to their farthest point. When, therefore, we
say that something is nothing, we indeed contradict
ourselves, since in forming the notion "something " we
already exclude it from "nothing;" and when we
declare that a "vacuum" exists, we seek to include it
within a class of objects which have in their idea
excluded it. But, nevertheless, we cannot get rid of the
conclusion that when we have found our universal con-
cept inclusive of everything there is still a something
THE OPEN COURT.
175
real and positive beyond. Thus when we declare that
something has become annihilated, all we can mean is
that it has passed from the perceptible into the impercep-
tible. When we propose to annihilate anything we
can chase it away, and away, and away, till our mind
gets tired ; but the moment we stop, as stop we must, it
is there at the end mocking us. To think a "vacuum"
is thus an impossibility as a process of endless centrifu-
gal mental motion. But if we mean by annihilation a
disappearance, which is all that can be meant, it is possi-
ble to conceive of it. This is not, however, the mean-
ing of terms as usually employed. They refer to this
endless motion, and the conditions of logical thought
necessitate this universal paradox.
The truth is we are forced by the laws of cognition
to postulate an unknown reality behind the known reality,
both of matter and mind, a dark side of the material
world and of intelligence, an imperceptible substantive
being, out of which somehow comes the perceptible, and
into which it disappears, a source of both material and
mental phenomena, a cause of their effects, a permanent
in which alone change is possible, a possibility for all
actualities and a power which transcends knowledge but
which is presupposed in all knowledge. This is the
meaning of the paradox.
The lines of argument as to the question of personal
immortality thus converge. Whether we look without
or within the mind, we come to substantially the same
result. If conscious mind be a higher force superin-
duced upon the vital energies, then we must believe in
conscious existence after death. If force be persistent, if
energy be conserved, if motion is continuous, if matter
is indestructible, then the conscious ego is indestructi-
ble, the mental processes are continuous, the power of
apperception is conserved and persistent. On the other
hand, if we look introspectively, we find it impossible to
think even of an interruption of consc'ousness, while
all the considerations derived from an observation of
external nature have increased strength when we con-
sider the trains of states of consciousness as mental
objects. The conscious ego persists — that is the self-
conscious ego — the knowing, feeling, willing ego, for
we know no other. That is what mind means.
It is no harder to understand the continued existence
of personal existence after death than to comprehend its
occultation in sleep and restoration afterward. As
before said, the sleeper knows, subjectively, no interrup-
tion; he infers it from changes in his environment.
Its occurrence, however, is quite inexplicable; yet no
one speaks of any impairment of personal identity
because of it.
The greatest perplexity arises, perhaps, over the fact
of the failure of memory. Without memory there is no
personal consciousness, and we often observe a progres-
sive impairment of the representative power. Memory
waxes and wanes according to bodily conditions. If, then,
alterations of the nerve-structure in disease will abrogate
memory, the total disintegration of that structure, it
may be said, will remove the possibility of representa-
tion— at any rate until some re-integration takes place.
If, while life continues mind may fail, how much more
when life is extinguished must we be compelled to the
belief that the individual consciousness has irrecover-
ably passed away. But, after all, this deterioration of
memory is only concomitant with degeneration of
vitality. Vital force wanes and, perhaps, there may be
by-and-by just this reintegration of which we spoke.
Vital force, though it has disappeared, exists somewhere.
There may be a lacuna in conscious existence as in
sleep; but do not the considerations before adduced
impel us to the belief that there may be an awakening
even after death to the conscious identity which says 1
am I, I was and I am ?
On every side, from beginning to end, this subject is
beset with difficulties; but altogether I am inclined to
the opinion that the ground for the assertion of post-
mortem personal self-consciousness in identity with
ante-mortem self-consciousness is firmer than for the
contrary belief.
But one thing more ought to be said before we
close. The same arguments that support the belief in
continued personal existence after death tend also to
prove an existence before birth. Is it possible that we
must return to the pre-existence doctrines of the ancient
philosophers? Is it possible that we must each say, I
am; therefore I always was and always shall be?
Dios sabe !
Is it wonderful, in view of all these things, that
mankind clings to the belief that the inquiry raised
by intelligence must be answerable to intelligence,
that some conscious being somewhere, at some time or
somehow must understand these mysteries; or that they
voice the song of Omar Khayyam —
" We are no other than a moving row
Of magic shadow shapes that come and go
Round with the sun-illuminated lantern held
In midnight by the master of the show.
But helpless pieces of the game he plays
Upon this chequer board of nights and days;
H.ther and thither moves, and checks, and slays,
Anil one by one back in the closet lays.
The ball no question makes of ayes and noes,
But here or there as strikes the player goes;
And he that toss'd you down into the field
lie knows about it all — he knows — HE knows'"
JAILS AND JUBILEES.
BY ELIZABETH CADV STANTON.
The two questions just now agitating Great Britain
are "Coercion" for Ireland, and the Queen's Tubilee —
a tragedy and a comedy in the same hour.
The former is being hotly discussed in Parliament
and by thoughtful people at every fireside. As the
THE OPEN COURT.
English are by no means of one opinion on this ques-
tion, the excitement and bitterness among contending
factions, in public and private, remind one of the old
davs of slavery in the United States, when families, as
well as churches and political parties, were rent in
twain by the agitation. There has been so much said and
written in regard to the condition of Ireland, that your
readers need no recapitulation of the successive steps of
tyrannical legislation, by which, through four centuries,
England has at last completely subjugated a nation that
was at one time the light of European civilization.
Down to the sixteenth century, Ireland, in her sys-
tem of education and jurisprudence, was pre-eminently
the great center of progress and learning. To her free
schools and universities students flocked from every part
of Christendom, and Irish teachers and professors spread
throughout the known world. " The body of her laws,"
says one of her historians, " revised and codified, is now,
by order of the British government, being translated
and published as a rare and valuable treasury of ancient
jurisprudence, Parliament making an annual grant for
that purpose since 1S52."
But alas! her glory has departed. All the solemn
treaties made by England, when Ireland consented to a
union, have one after another been violated; her manu-
factories, bv direct legislation, have been ruthlessly
destroyed; the education of her children made a penal
offense; her lands confiscated; her troops disbanded, and
hated rulers set over her — Governors, Chief Secreta-
ries, Constabulary, Police— all appointed by the English
government, with a standing army of 25,000 soldiers to
enforce obedience to these officers, all of which the Irish
people are taxed to support. Thus, by degrees, has Eng-
land made Ireland what she is to-day, a helpless,
beggared, dependency. Though too crippled in her
resources to make open war, her national cry is still the
same as it ever has been, and ever will be: "Give us
liberty or death." Death she has had in many forms
but for centuries not one taste of liberty'.
The discontent of this oppressed people has been
voiced from time to time, by Grattan, Curran, Emmet,
Burke, O'Connell — all far-seeing statesmen and gifted
orators — but what avail unanswerable arguments
based on the eternal principles of justice, wit, wisdom,
eloquence, when weighed in the balance with the greed,
selfishness and tyranny of the English government.
And now a Tory ministry proposes to give the last
turn of the screw in a Coercion Act, that, if passed dur-
ing this session of Parliament, will reduce the Irish
nation to hopeless slavery. This bill, depriving the
people of trial by jury ; of the freedom of the press and
of speech; of the right to hold public meetings — in
fact, making football of all their civil and political liber-
ties, is a disgrace to the age in which we live, and
should be publicly and officially denounced by every
civilized nation. Americans on this side the water
are proud to learn that public meetings, with Governors
of the several States in the chair, are being held in our
country to protest against anv further outrages on this
long suffering people. While England boasts of being
a Christian and civilized nation, in all her dealings with
foreign countries she has proved herself the most brutal
government on the face of the earth. She has ever been
quick to point the slow, unwavering finger of scorn at
oppressions in other lands, — let all nations now make a
united effort to open her eyes to her own slavery in Ire-
land. She is to-day subsidizing the wealth of the
world, as far as she can to support her army, navy and
established church; her royal family, nobility and
petty county grades of aristocracy; her system of land
tenure, tithes, taxes and corrupt social customs ; her
increasing pauperism and crime, grinding the last farth-
ing from her subjects everywhere to maintain a show
of state at home.
In this supreme moment of the nation's political
crisis the Queen and her suite are junketing round in
their royal yachts on the coast of France, while
proposing to celebrate her year of Jubilee by levying new
taxes on her people, in the form of penny and pound
contributions to build a monument to Prine Albert,
who never uttered one lofty sentiment or performed one
deed of heroism, if fairly represented on the page of-
history. The year of Jubilee ! while under the eyes of the
Queen her Irish subjects are being evicted from their
holdings at the point of the bayonet; their cottages
burned to the ground ; aged and helpless men and women
and newborn children, alike left crouching on the high-
ways, under bridges, hayricks and hedges, crowded into
poor-houses, jails and prisons, to expiate the crimes
growing out of poverty on the one hand, and patriotism
on the other.
While the Queen has laid up for herself and her
innumerable progeny ten millions of pounds during the
last fifty years, the condition of the laboring classes in
Great Britain has been growing steadily worse; for
what then should the gratitude of the people take an
enduring form of expression in a Parian marble monu-
ment to her consort?
A far more fitting way to celebrate the year of
Jubilee would be for the Queen to scatter the millions
hoarded in her private vaults among her needy subjects,
to mitigate, in some measure, the miseries they have
endured from generation to generation; to inaugurate
some grand improvement in her system of education;
to extend still further the civil and political rights of her
people; to suggest, perchance, an Inviolable Homestead
Bill for Ireland, and to open the prison doors to her
noble priests and patriots.
But instead of such worthy ambitions, in the fiftieth
year of her reign, what does the Queen propone?
THE OPEN COURT.
17
/ /
With her knowledge and consent, committees of ladies
are formed in every county, town and village in all the
colonies under her flag, to solicit these penny and
pound contributions, to be placed at her disposal.
Ladies go from house to house, not only to the resi-
dences of the rich, but the cottages of the poor, through
all the marts of trade, the fields, the factories, begging
pennies for the Queen from servants and day-laborers.
One called at the door of an American lad}- a few days
since, and asked of the maid who opened the door, to
see the servants. After wheedling them out of a few
pence, she asked for the mistress, hoping to obtain from
her a pound at least, but she being an American and a
republican declined giving a donation, on the ground
that the Queen having amassed a vast fortune of
ten millions of pounds, was abundantly able to erect a
monument to Prince Albert herself. She thought it
would be more suitable if the Queen gave a Jubilee offer-
ing to her people rather than they to her.
" But," urged the lady beggar, "it will rouse good
feeling among the people to take some part in this com-
memoration." "Why should there be good feeling?"
said the American. " For fifty years the poor of Eng-
land have been taxed heavily to support Her Majesty
and to make marriage settlements on all her children,
and while she has been growing richer and richer they
have been steadily growing poorer and poorer." The
ladies who started this woman's fund intended it should
all come back to the people in the form of charity.
Great regret was felt by them when they learned that
Her Majesty intended to erect a monument. The com-
plaints became so loud that at the Queen's commands
the ladies were informed by Mr. Ponsonby that only
JE 1,500 would be expended in that way and the remain-
der would be devoted to charity. It is evident royalty
is looking for a most generous outpouring by the peo-
ple.
To show how little idea the people have as to the sen-
timent and aesthetic taste involved in this proposed work
of art, one poor woman when asked to give a penny to the
fund, said "here, Miss, take two, sure I've known what
it is to want myself sometimes." Another needy
widow said, " Oh, yes, I can spare a penny for the
Queen. A widdy with a large family must have a great
struggle to make the ends meet." Many such stories
are repeated with peals of laughter. But who that has
a soul to feel could receive money from the hard hand
of poverty, and under such false pretenses. Instead of
making merry over such misplaced generosity, public
indignation should be roused against those who receive it.
To be sure the queen has had a long reign, but what
great national work or what new liberty for her people
has ever emanated from her brain? Her influence, as
far as she has had any, has been against all change and
improvement. If the crowned heads of Europe were
to make a present to the Queen and build two monu-
ments, both to her and her consort, it would he highly
suitable. For one of their number to stick to a throne
for fifty years in this revolutionary period is indeed
remarkable.
But as her name has never been connected with any
progressive movement, why ask gifts from the people?
Through the troubled times of the great unemployed,
and the prolonged Irish struggle, the country has only
heard of her in connection with one democratic demon-
stration. She attended a private representation of that
popular Parisian circus, in London, and it was recorded
in all the papers that Her Majesty was delighted with
the exhibition and honored the baby elephant by caress-
ing his left ear.
The idea of a penny from the masses is a nice point
in English calculations. When they established their
system of free schools they passed a cunning little by-
law, requiring each child to come with a penny in its
hand, ofttimes with its little stomach so empty that the
brain could not work. Think of the self-control the
child must have exercised in passing a bake-shop with a
penny in its hand! A humane teacher told me she was
obliged to take the penny, but she usually gave the child-
ren that needed it a roll of bread, which she pur-
chased for that purpose on her way to school. To
rescind this by-law and establish a bread fund for hungry
children in the schools would be a good use to make of
the Jubilee pennies filched from the poor, but to build a
monument on such a basis is enough to make Prince
Albert turn in his grave.
London, April.
CHATS WITH A CHIMPANZEE.
BY MOXCURE D. CONWAY.
Part III.
" I am eager to know the ways and means of youi
evolutional pilgrimage to humanity and thence to rever-
sionary monkey hoed."
So I said when next presenting myself, girt with
sacred flowers, before my sage of the monkey temple
at Benares. No sooner was my query put than from
the blood-stained pavement outside came a vulgar Eng-
lish voice, crying: "In the beginning was the word,
and the word was with God, and the word was God."
Here there were confused voices, and the next sound
was the canting reader again — " Without Him was not
anything made that was made. In Him was life; and
the life was the light of men; and the light shineth in
darkness, and the darkness comprehended it not."
(Noise.) " My dear hearers, and you, ye poor deluded
idolators, this is the blessed Trinity, three persons in
one God—" (Tinkle, tinkle!)
I knew well the meaning of the musical tinkle.
Some procession was bearing a god or goddess on its
178
THE OPEN COURT.
ceremonial round, had paused before an altar and begun
the instrumentation for a sacred dance. I moved away
to an aperture in the wall and saw the nautch girls
just beginning to dance before a grim but gaudy god
throned in his sedan beneath a cobra canopy. Near by
stood a white-robed and turbaned cockney with his little
cohort of Salvationists.
" In the name of Almighty God stop that idolatry
and blasphemy, or the plagues of "
A sharp official voice reprimanding, cut short the
sentence of the Salvationist, who was pale and trembling.
"Sing, sisters!" he cried.
In a moment the tinklings of the sacred triangles
were drowned by a dozen shrill voices wailing of the
"Sweet By-and-By." In an instant two powerful
Hindus darted forward, seized the foolhardy Salvationist
and rolled him in the wet blood of sacrified kids. The
English women shrieked, the Hindus yelled, and a fight
began which might have ended seriously had not the
police appeared and marched the Salvationists off, fol-
lowed bv the two Brahmans who had assailed him.
When I turned back into the court of the temple I saw
a hundred monkeys seated quietly along the parapet
overlooking the street and gazing with silent interest
on the crowd beneath. When the human companies
which came into collision had departed the moakeys
slowly distributed themselves, and my friendly chim-
panzee descended.
"Those poor Christians and Brahmans did not un-
derstand each other," he remarked. "If they had un-
derstood each other they would have embraced instead
of fighting. There was no real difference between the
god in the sedan and the god in whose name the Chi is-
tian forbade the other's rites. But I am puzzled that a
man should in one breath utter wisdom and in another
show himself a fool. When he said of his god, 'with-
out him was not anything made that was made,' why
should he be furious against these divine manufactures
in India?"
"Ah, he didn't say that himself; he said it as a par-
rot says what it is told, without understanding it."
"He is then an illustration of the words, 'the light
shineth in the darkness, the darkness comprehends it
not,' for surely he uttered wise sentences."
" Well, let us leave the poor fellow now, for I am
anxious to hear about your evolutionary method."
'" In the beginning was the word.' That is the key
of creation. There is no beginning beyond the begin-
ning of language. In the first silent intercourse between
living forms, grassblade's signal to grassblade, flower
blushing to flower, and back of these to the faint infini-
tesimal communications which, through the kalpas (or
ceons, you might say) led up to them."
" Some tell us that the dumb inorganic universe— the
mineral, the worlds and stars — must have had a begin-
ning."
" In a sense, no doubt. I hurl this round cake
against that wall — thus! You observe those doves pick-
ing up the crumbs. Each crumb has just had a begin-
ning. The sun once hurled into space a cosmical cake
which has broken up into worlds. Perhaps the sun it-
self was a crumb of a previous cake, perhaps not.
There is no absolute beginning in these changes."
"Then you would find the beginning in the appear-
ance of life on our planet."
"'In the beginning was the word,' as the pious par-
rot said. Without language was not anything made
that was made. The living germ was not made."
" Some of our scientists say life was evolve;.' out of
matter; that the inorganic evolved the organic."
"I recognize the idea as a phase of thought through
which our anthropoid race passed. In recoil from a
primitive and fictitious system which assumed millions
of causes for phenomena only superficially different, we
went to the other extreme and confused antagonistic phe-
nomena in a unity so unnatural that it had to be made
supernatural. Why should not life be an original mode
of one thing as well as lifelessness that of another?
Why — except by some theological or metaphysical ;>s-
sumption — should we say that organic and inorganic are-
not equally eternal, in their several essence, and equally
without beginning?"
"It has been said the phenomenal universe implies a
cause, because every effect implies a cause."
" But it is an assumption that the universe is an effect..
It exists. No man has ever shown that it had any be-
ginning — neither its inorganic atoms or its organic
germs. There is live stuff" and lifeless stuff. The life-
less stuff runs through certain changes, chemic, molecu-
lar and other; the living stuff through certain other-
changes, growth, decay; the two are found combined and
mutually modified in many forms. Thus it always was,,
so far as anybody has shown."
"And always will be?"
"That does not follow. It were mere speculation to-
inquire. The thing in which I suppose you to be inter-
ested is the beginning and process of creation — that is.
the various development of life-stuff in this world."
"It is just that I wish to know."
" Well, I can only tell you about the particular road'
I have traveled. It is not necessary to suppose that all
forms have traveled by one route. As it is not neces-
sary to suppose that granite was evolved from flint, Hint
from water, water from salt, neither is it necessary to-
suppose that whales, crabs, butterflies, tigers, have been
evolved from each other."
" Such variety is not admitted by Western science.'"
" Perhaps because an ancient deism survives in it as
a suffocating unity. What reason is there to believe that
our cherries were once plums, or the reverse? Amid
the innumerable myriads of atoms and germs floating
THE OPEN COURT.
179
through infinite space through infinite time, cohering,
crumbling, combining under various chemic influences,
the molecules assume varied shapes, the life-germs varied
potencies; and while the inorganic world subsists in
endless shapes, the seeds grow into many forms and
flavors. A mouse is not evolved from the same ancestor
as the adder that preys on it, any more than a diamond
from an opal, — at least such is my opinion. Were it
proved that mouse is evolved from adder it would be
interesting, as it is to a philologist that your word ' adder '
is evolved from our Hindu demon ' Ahi,1 but it would
not affect the principle of evolution."
"It is, as vou suggest, a detail."
"Very well. Now we may consider the line of
human evolution without being entangled in other ques-
tions. But, lest I take up your time by repeating what
you already know, let me ask you whether your
thought has been directed to the consideration of lan-
guage as a factor of physical evolution? "
" Yes, by a great master to whom I have listened —
Huxley. In one lecture, long ago, he spoke on this
subject in a way which I often hoped he would follow
up. He illustrated the vast change of function which
may follow a minutest change of form, by showing how
slight a pressure of pincers on the hand-rivet of a watch
m.iy stop it. The register of the solar system becomes
and idle box of metal. The minute modification of
form would make a functional change quite infinite.
This he applied to the minute difference in the vocal
chords between a speaking and speechless animal. And
it is language, he said, that makes man what he is; lan-
guage, giving him the means of recording his experi-
ence, miking every generation wiser than its predecessor,
more in accordance with the established order of the uni-
verse. It is speech which enables- men to be men —
looking before and after, and, in some dim sense, under-
standing the workings of the universe, — distinguishing
man from the brute world. This functional difference,
so infinite in its consequences, may depend on structural
differences absolutely inappreciable by our present
means of investigation. Were you to alter in the min-
utest degree the proportion of the nervous forces now
active in the two nerves which supply the muscles of
my glottis, I who now speak, should become suddenly
dumb. The voice is produced onlv so long as the vocal
chords are parallel; and these are parallel only so long
as certain muscles contract with exact equality; and that
again depends on the equality of action of the two
nerves referred to. So that a change of the minutest
kind in the structure of one of these nerves, or of the
part in which it originates, or of the supply of food to
that part, or of one of the muscles to which it is distrib-
uted, might render us all dumb. But a race of dumb
men, deprived of all communication with those who
could speak, would be little indeed removed from the
brutes. The moral and intellectual difference between
them and ourselves would be practically infinite, though
the naturalist should not be able to find even a single
shadow of specific structural difference. So spake the
professor."
" So much then you know. These are pregnant testi-
monies from the human point of view. When we meet
again I shall have something to add from the anthro-
poid standpoint. The hour has arrived when I must go
and receive some sacrificial offerings. See, my wor-
shipers already begin to kneel!"
I asked him whether there would be found any ap-
preciable difference between the vocal apparatus of a fine
opera singer and that of one who could not sing. He
replied that a naturalist might, perhaps, detect such dif-
ference, as a violinist might detect between a Cremona
and ordinary violin of the same size. I once put a simi-
lar question to Dr. Carpenter, who said that the billionth
of an inch may measure the difference between the chat-
ter of a monkey and the song of a Patti. Darwin in-
deed, wondered that some apes do not talk. Schleicher
holds that monkeys and men are both descended from
the same anthropoid race, now extinct; those that ac-
quired language developed into humanity, those that
failed to sain speech deteriorated into our present
monkeys.
THE FREE RELIGIOUS ASSOCIATION AND ITS
APPROACHING ANNUAL MEETING.
BY W.M. J. POTTER.
The Free Religious Association has been in existence
twenty years. It will hold its twentieth anniversary in
Boston on the 26th and 27th of the present month.
This meeting promises to be one of exceptional interest
and importance. It will have a special interest, not only
as bringing together a large number of able and attract-
ive speakers, but as involving, in the discussions pro-
posed, both the retrospective and prospective points of
view. It will have a special importance as determining,
perhaps, the future of the Association.
The Free Religious Association has a unique history.
There had never been anything like it before in this
country, there has never been anything like it in any
other country. It is, perhaps, owing to this uniqueness
of character, if the Association has not fulfilled all the
expectations which any persons may have had with re-
gard to it at the time of its organization. The organi-
zation was designedly made of the loosest type possible,
— the farthest removed from anything of an ecclesiasti-
cal nature, though intended to affect all ecclesiastical
structures. It had no set of doctrines to promulgate, it
established no fixed machinery for carrying out a cer-
tain definite scheme of work. It simply had certain
ideas and principles by which its organizers hoped to
impress and gradually shape public opinion; and for this
end, they trusted chiefly to the public meeting, the lecture
i8o
THK OPKN COURT.
and the printing-press. They left the organization
itself free to be shaped by the growth and progress of
the ideas and principles which it embodied.
There are, probably, not a few readers of The Open
Court who remember well that first public meeting in
Horticultural Hall, Boston, at which the Association
was formed. Those who prepared for that meeting and
felt the profoundest interest in it could not themselves
foresee what would be the result. At the several pre-
liminary private conferences which had been held, of
persons interested in the application of the freest thought
to religious questions, there had been a difference of
opinion in respect to organizing. One of these meetings,
held at the house of Dr. Bartol, was a most notable
gathering. It -was attended by some sixty persons or
more, who had been specially invited to consider the
question. The discussion was able, earnest, frank, and
continued the greater part of the day. Some of the spe-
cial utterances of that occasion still linger in my ears
word for word. With very few exceptions the meeting
consisted of those who were of Unitarian affiliations or
antecedents. This came to pass, because the occasion
which had started the question of a new organization
had been given by the action of the National Unitarian
Conference, in putting into the preamble of its consti-
tution certain theological phrases against which a mi-
nority had earnestly protested. Yet it cannot be said
that the voice of this meeting was in favor of organiza-
tion. It was a divided voice. Some of the ablest and
most influential of those who spoke on the question were
opposed to organized action. Some of the most radical
members of the meeting, though deprecating the Unita-
rian proceedings and feeling themselves excluded from
the National Conference, were averse to any other kind
of organization than that of the individual society.
Though the result of the meeting was the appointment
of a committee to present the same question at a public
meeting, to be called and arranged for by them, it can
only be said that this conclusion was rather conceded
tacitly as a right to those who favored organization than
advocated or voted for by a very considerable number
of those present. Even that committee became partially
dissolved before the time of the public meeting came.
It was, therefore, not at all clear what would be the issue
of the public step nor whether many people would re-
spond to the call.
In view of these facts, the committee ventured to
secure a hall of only moderate size. The Boston Hor-
ticultural Hall is estimated to seat an audience of a thou-
sand. Considerably before the hour advertised for the
meeting the seats were all taken, and people were be-
ginning to stand in the aisles; and when the committee,
a little before the time, reached the hall, they were told
that they could not get through the crowded mass of
human beings from the front, but must get to the platform
from the rear. This packed assembly, occupying
every seat and all the standing room and extending out
into the vestibule, remained through the greater part of
the long morning session. The public notice to which
this gathering was the response was very simple. It ran
as follows: " A public meeting, to consider the condi-
tions, wants and prospects of Free Religion in America,
will be held on Thursday, May 30, at 10 a. m., at Hor-
ticultural Hall, Boston." Appended to this was the
announcement that R. W. Emerson, John Weiss, Rob-
ert Dale Owen, Win. H. Furness, Lucretia Mott, Henry
Blanchard, T. W. Higginson, D. A. Wasson, Isaac M.
Wise, Oliver Johnson, F. E. Abbot and Max Lilienthal
had been asked to address the meeting, and that ad-
dresses might " be expected from most of them." The
notice was signed by " O. B. Frothingham, Win. T.
Potter, Rowland Connor, Committee."
It must be remembered that the term " Free Reli-
gion " used in this call had not then become the specific
appellation which it is now. It simply had the general
meaning of religion emancipated from every kind of
thrall. It will be noticed, too, that the movement had
already passed beyond the boundaries of denominational
Unitarianism. Mr. Connor, of the Committee, was then
the colleague of Dr. Miner, as junior pastor of the First
Universalist Church in Boston. It may here be added
that his affiliation with the Free Religious movement
cost him his position in that church and denomination.
Of the invited speakers, Mr. Blanchard also represented
progressive Universalism ; Messrs. Wise and Lilienthal
were Jewish Rabbis; Lucretia Mott was the well-known
and venerated preacher of the liberal division of the So-
ciety of Friends; Mr. Owen was a leading light among
the Spiritualists; Oliver Johnson represented the Pro-
gressive Friends. The others, though they were or had
been connected with the Unitarians, were either already
doing their work independently of any denominational
standing or held their denominational positions of less
account than their regard for liberty of religious thought.
The actual speakers and the order in which they spoke,
were, O. B. Frothingham, who presided, Mr. Blanchard,
Mrs. Mott, Mr. Owen, Mr. Weiss, Mr. Johnson, Mr.
Abbot, Mr. Wasson, Mr. Higginson and Mr. Emerson.
Mr. Emerson had sat in the body of the hall throughout
the meeting, unobserved from the platform, and began
his remarks by saying that he hardly felt that he had
come to the right hall when he found the house so full
of people; that he had expected a committee meeting
rather than such an audience. He showed that he was
deeply interested in the occasion, and at the afternoon
session, when a constitution was adopted and organiza-
tion was effected, he gave a proof of this interest in a
way unusual with him. Though not commonly work-
ing with organizations nor joining their membership, he
was among the first to come forward to have his name
THE OPEN COURT.
181
enrolled on the list okmembers. In the Executive Com-
mittee appointed, following the adoption of the consti-
tution, Unitarianism, Quakerism, Spiritualism, Univer-
salism, Judaism, were all represented, as well as that
large realm of rational thought and humanitarian activity
outside of all denominational lines.
It is not my purpose here to trace the history of the
Free Religious Association during the twenty vears of
its existence. But I wish to say this: no one can rightly
comprehend that history without taking into account
these circumstances of the origin of the Association to
which I have referred and without noting especially the
variety and diversity of elements that made its constitu-
ency. If any persons were expecting that this new re-
ligious movement would set up the machinery of an ac-
tive propagandism corresponding to the activity of an
ecclesiastical sect — would become, perhaps, itself a new
and advanced religious sect — organizing local societies,
sending out preachers and lecturers, etc., they were
doomed to disappointment, though in the latter particu-
lar one or two attempts have been made. It was not to
be supposed that the venerable Lucretia Mott would
leave the Quaker meeting-house, where after many
struggles she had won for herself rational liberty, to join a
local " Free Religous " society, should one have been
established in her neighborhood ; nor that Rabbi Wise,
who was one of the first Directors of the Association,
would abandon his synagogue to become a lecturer for
" Free Religion" as something distinct from the rational
ideas and advancing thought which he believed to be
embodied in progressive Judaism. Indeed, the consti-
tution of the Free Religious Association expressly de-
clared from the outset that membership there should
"affect in no degree [a member's] relation to other as-
sociations." By this clause it was evidently intended to
declare that the new movement was not to be necessarily
a secession from existing religious bodies, or a new body
competing with the old in the same general field. It
was to do its work in a different way for different ends.
And, again, if the Association has not done all that some
of its members hoped it would do, and even now believe
it might have done, in the field marked out by its own
constitution, and especially in promoting certain definite
ethical and philanthropic activities, the reason may again
be found in the fact of its various and scattered constitu-
ency, its members being already engaged more or less in
activities of this sort wherever they might be located.
In fine, the nature of the organization was of too broad
a type to permit, to much extent, other methods of prac-
tical work than those adapted to create and shape public
opinion, and to inspire the members individually to do
the utmost in their power for promoting the objects of
the Association in their respective localities and spheres
of labor. The work of the Association has been done,
therefore, through the public convention, the lecture-
platform and the printing-press.
On account of the variety of religious and philosoph-
ical beliefs appearing on its platform and to be found in
its membership, it has sometimes been said that the Free
Religious Association is merely a free parliament for
the expression of all opinions on the subjects presented
for discussion. But this is a most superficial view of the
significance of the Association. It is true that all honest
opinions on religious and ethical questions, all varieties
of view, have been welcomed on its platform. It is also
true that there is great diversity of religious belief among
its members, and that the constitution expressly declares
that no "test of speculative opinion or belief" shall debar
from membership. Yet, through the same constitution,
the members do affirm certain very important things
together, which gives them a very distinct significance as
a religious organization. For one thing they affirm unre-
stricted mental liberty as the essential condition of their
fellowship, as of all true and progressive religious think-
ing; and then, in the statement of the objects or purposes
of the Association, they affirm that all questions of
religion and ethics are to be studied by the free reason »
according to the methods of modern science, and not
under the supervision of ecclesiastical authority ; that
fellowship is to be determined not by ties of sect or creed,
nor even by the Christian boundary, but by humanita-
rian and spiritual affiliations; and that, of all the so-called
interests of religion, morality, the pure character, the
upright life, are of vastly more importance than any
sectarian prosperity or the creed of any church. I have
here somewhat paraphrased the succinct statement of
objects as they have stood from the beginning in the con-
stitution of the Association. Certain amendments of
phraseology have been made from time to time, not, in
my opinion, changing the original essential meaning, but
only trying to express it more clearly. Whatever else
the members of the Association may have had to say con-
cerning religion, and in connection with whatever other
organizations they may have found freedom and oppor-
tunity for work, in this constitution they have affirmed
together these four positive propositions.
Now, these four affirmations are very momentous.
Were they ever affirmed together before by any kind of
religious organization on the globe? If they were to
be generally acted upon they would revolutionize the
religious world. But they are not to take effect by any
violent action. They are sure to grow in favor, they are
growing in favor; but the change is to be a gradual
process, — an evolution. The evolution is already in
progress in many churches and denominations, and even
in the religions of the world. Every one of these great
affirmations has made an important advance in the last
twenty years. Various agencies have been helping
toward this end ; but it may be rightly claimed that the
Free Religious Association, as a pioneer society in pre-
senting and holding these ideas before the public, has
lS2
THE OPEN COURT
had a good share in effecting this result. Mental liberty ;
character before creed ; fellowship in spirit rather than
by the letter of a creed or by any religious name; rea-
son, acting freely, the arbiter in religious questions rather
than ecclesiastical authority, — these several ideas are all
receiving greater recognition, certainly, than twenty
years ago, and are beginning to permeate churches and
sects with their growing power.
Of course, the great work is bv no means yet accom-
plished. But, in the changed condition of things, the
question may be raised whether the time has not come
for a reconstruction of the Free Religious organization
with a view to adopting more definite and concentrated
methods of working for its objects. The new times
may have brought new demands; opened fields for labor,
perhaps, of a somewhat different kind ; matured, possibly,
the conditions of a larger opportunity. It is well, there-
fore, that the approaching twentieth anniversary meeting
should take up this question, and this it is proposed to do.
That meeting in 1S67 was called "to consider the con-
ditions, wants and prospects of Free Religion in Amer-
ica." So let the meeting that is to be held in Tremont
Temple, Boston, on the 27th of May, consider the con-
ditions, wants and prospects of emancipated religion in
America at this present time. What is the duty of the
present hour? What are the wants in this year of 1S87 ?
And how can the Free Religious Association meet them ?
Possibly an entirely new organization is demanded. If
so, and this fact were made clear, the Free Religious
Association, if true to its own soul, would not cumber
the ground to the detriment of another organization that
could now better do its work. It is not to this or that
form of organization that the genuine devotee of free
religion adheres. It is principles and ideas that hold his
allegiance; it is the advance of principles and ideas that
he craves.
ETHICS IN PUBLIC AFFAIRS.
BY M. M. TRUMBULL.
If the problem of poverty is to be solved in any
rational and effective way, we must bring American
politics under the dominion of ethics. Ethics must
become an active governing power as well as a passive
code. It must superintend the work of all our magis-
trates and require that every act of statesmanship shall
rest upon a moral foundation. It must compel the law
to apportion our civil burdens fairly, so that no part of
the public taxes shall be a dead weight upon industry,
pressing the laborer down to a lower plane of life. It
is not enough that ethics control our private conduct, it
must also direct our public acts and deeds. So long
as our politicians can exclude ethics from public affairs
and limit its authority to matters of personal character
only, so long the statutes of the land will be made for
private gain, and so long we shall compete with one
another for a share in the profits of wrong.
The reckless making of public debts and their pre-
servation for private advantage, add greatly to the
oppression of industry. It is not well for labor when
important private interests depend for their prosperity
on the increase and preservation of public debt. It is
bad for honest business when those debts are converted
into capital for the rich, into usury and taxation for the
poor. The pressure of public debt squeezes a portion
of the useful classes from every layer of society to the
tier immediately below, and when it reaches those who
are just able to balance income and expenses, it crowds
a portion of them into the pit of destitution. Our pub-
lic debts amount to about $2,200,000,000 and they bear
interest at the average rate of about 5 per cent, per
annum. This is not a very oppressive debt, we say, for
a nation that earns ten thousand millions a year. True
enough, but if the burden of it be inequitably adjusted
it may cause much poverty in the ranks of those who
have to bear it. Many of the local debts have been
incurred by jobbery of little or no value to the muni-
cipalities involved. The)- were sown in corruption,
they must be raised in incorruption, that is to say, they
must be honestly paid, and that payment must come out
of the proceeds of useful industry. Mr. Blaine, speak-
ing of these debts at Oshkosh a few years ago, said :
" I venture the assertion based on some scrutiny into
facts that there has not been realized on the average
fifty cents of palpable, permanent value for each dollar
raised and expended."
The interest on those debts, to say nothing of the
running cost of government, is a drain upon industry
that never stops. It is perpetually calling for taxation,
and crafty men have shaped the law and practice of im-
post and assessment in such an ingenious way that the
" incidence" of them strikes most heavily upon the labor-
ing man, the clerk, the cottage owner, the small manu-
facturer, and the merchant of limited means. Such
facilities have rich men for undervaluing their property
and concealing it, that the rate of taxation in proportion
to personal wealth grows lighter and lighter as we
ascend, until by the time we reach the man of ten mil-
lions it amounts to comparatively nothing. The man
whose worldly wealth consists of a little cottage worth
a thousand dollars cannot conceal it; he is assessed in
full, while the man who owns a million dollars is gener-
ally assessed at about $50,000, or one-twentieth of the
real value of his property. This is not a guess; it is an
actual estimate made from a comparison of the assessor's
books, with the records of the Probate Court. In the
spring the rich man lists his property to the assessor at
seventy thousand dollars; he dies in the summer, and 1 is
executors then swear in the Probate Court that its value
amounts to two million, five hundred thousand dollars.
This is not an imaginary case. It is an actual example
taken from the records, a vivid illustration of loyalty to
THE OPEN COURT.
183
the law of "self-preservation " in this world, while a
prudent insurance against accidents in the next world is
■disclosed by the reading of the will, which contains a
liberal bequest to the church of which our departed
brother was an honored and consistent member.
Consistent, indeed, he was. For twenty years he
had " worshiped " in a costly temple exempt from tax-
ation, a church, which not only cast the public burdens
from its own shoulders on to those of honest industry,
but had also entered into a partnership with all other
■churches to enable them to go and do likewise. In this
■bad " combine," the partners rise above sectarianism.
On this low plane all are orthodox. Methodist, Bap-
tist, Presbyterian, Catholic, Jew, all assist each other to
■evade their duty to the State. Though each believes
the other's teaching false, and much of it pernicious, yet
•each claims tax exemption for the rest on the ground
that their false teachings have a virtuous public influ-
ence. Our departed brother had only followed the ex-
ample set him by his church. He had learned from its
practice that ethics is not necessarily connected with re-
ligion, and that there are no public duties. Public de-
mands may sometimes fasten upon a man, and hold him
as a policeman does, but from them, as from him, it is
lawful to escape if we can. He had learned that public
•duties belong to ethics with which religion has nothing
to do, for the church is above the State. By repudi-
ating their share of the taxes, and still more, by teach-
ing their congregations to do so, the churches make
a hundred cases of poverty, for every one that their
charities relieve.
While the mere interest on those public debts presses
heavily upon labor, their oblique operation also cripples
industry. Those debts, in the convenient form of inter-
est bearing bonds, offer a safe retreat where capital may
revel in idleness drawing good wages for nothing. If
those bonds did not provide sinecures for capital, it
would be compelled to earn a living by going into part-
nership with labor in trade, manufactures, farming, and
all the various activities which produce and distribute
wealth. Those bonds unfairly compete with labor,
merchandise and manufactures, in raising the interest on
money. The}- make poverty both ways. It was the
grinding power of public debts upon the poor, that
caused Jefferson to declare that one generation could not
of right make debts for another generation to pay; an
abstract sentiment of some value as a warning, but
worthless as a rule of political action, because in times of
public peril the verv salvation of society may depend
upon money borrowed on the implied promise of a fu-
ture generation to pay it. The principal and interest of
these debts must be paid, but in the plan of payment
there ought not to be any discrimination against the poor.
The revenues of the National Government are ob-
tained in part by indirect taxation, and the machinery
employed in levying and collecting is an industrious
maker of poverty. As indirect taxes are levied chiefly
upon consumption, and especially on the consumption of
what are called the necessities of life, they fall with pe-
culiar hardship upon the poor. About a hundred and
eighty million dollars a year is obtained by means of a
tariff on imports, constructed in such a way as to afford
protection to American industry against foreign compe-
tition. It is not the purpose of this article to encroach
upon the domain of " the two great parties," by discuss-
ing the wisdom or the folly of the protective tariff, but
merely to suggest that if ethics had been allowed " the
privilege of the floor," when the tariff bill was before
Congress, that measure would not be, as it is now, an
unjust burden upon the workingman.
The actual revenue received by the government from
the tariff on imports, and the incidental revenue received
by the protected interests from it, are both in their levy
and collection unfair to the workingman. The '' inci-
dence " of all of it strikes hardest upon him. Suppose a
man with fifty dollars a month pays five dollars for
sugar; the tax on this is three dollars and fifty cents,
or seven per cent, of his income. It is evident that the
rich man's proportion of the sugar tax is greatly less
than that. Suppose that a man with five hundred dol-
lars a month pays twenty dollars for sugar; the tax on
this is fourteen dollars, or less than three per cent, of
his income. Apply this principle to clothing, fuel,
blankets, crockery, soap, starch, and every other article
necessary in the humblest home, and we. see at once how
unjust and unequal is the apportionment of taxation.
The duty on coal is seventy-five cents a ton. If this
duty raises the price of coal to the full amount of it, or
to any amount, then the share of it paid by the poor
man is out of all just proportion greater than the share
of it paid by the rich man. Nor does the rich man make
up the difference in the purchase of luxuries which the
poor man cannot buy. Where the workingmen pay
twenty per cent, of their incomes in the shape of duties
on the necessities of life which they must buy, the rich
men do not pay five per cent, of their incomes in the
shape of duties upon luxuries which they may buy or
not as they please.
In actual practice the inequality shown above is made
still greater against the poor. When we come to cloth,
and a hundred other things, we find a sliding scale con-
trivance which gives to the rich man a very great ad-
vantage. The Commissioner of Labor gives a vivid
illustration of this. He shows in his recent report that
on clothing goods the rate of duty on the price at the
factory gradually increases as the value of the goods de-
clines. Beginning with West of England broadcloth
worth $3.50 a yard at the factory, and traveling gradu-
ally down through thirty-six different kinds of goods to
"cotton warp reversible" worth 45 cents a yard at the
1 84
THE OPKN COURT.
factory, the tariff tax amounts to only 50.3 per cent, on
the broadcloth for the rich man, -while it amounts to
1S0.7 per cent, on the cotton warp for the poor man.
Spread this inequality over hundreds of other things, and
we behold a bit of machinery most ingeniously contrived
for the manufacture of poverty. This is a question of
ethics. It is not claimed here that a protective tariff is
not necessary and just; it is only claimed that our tariff,
from an ethical point of view, is open to criticism be-
cause it makes a great deal of unnecessary poverty by
discriminating in favor of the rich and against the poor.
It may be wise in principle, but it is unjust in practice.
Beside, rich men may evade the clothing tax en-
tirely by purchasing their clothes in Europe, as thousands
of them do. The Astor case is proof that ethics would
give a healthier tone to our political system. Mr. Astor,
a citizen of the United States, being about to return to
his native land from Europe, provided himself with
twenty-one trunks, which he filled with valuable new
clothing suitable for a millionaire. When he reached
New York the Custom House authorities decided that
as the clothing was new, and had never been worn, it
■was liable to tariff duties amounting to $2,006. Mr.
Astor paid the demand under protest, and then sued
the Collector to recover his money. The District
Court decided that the Custom House ruling was cor-
rect, but on appeal to the Supreme Court of the United
States the judgment was reversed, and it was decided
that a man might bring a shipload of clothing from Lon-
don to New York, without paying duty on it, provided
that it was for his own personal use, and not for sale.
The argument of the above anecdote is this: Any law
of taxation which can be evaded by the rich, and cannot
be evaded by the poor, is ethically unsound; it is unequal
in its exactions, and to the full extent of the inequality it
helps to create poverty.
The argument is not weakened by the answer that
the workingmen themselves advocate the laws and poli-
cies that subject them to extortion and consequent piiva-
tion. Their folly does not change the character of
tho^e laws nor affect their operation. It is hardly credi-
ble that workingmen themselves demand that criminals
in jail shall be supported in idleness at the expense of
honest labor, and yet we know that this demand is made,
and that it has been established as the supreme law of
New York and Illinois. It is very plain that criminals
in jail must be supported by themselves or others, and
if workingmen suppose that the support of convicts is a
tax upon capital and not upon labor, they are seriously
deceived. Every idler, in jail or out of it, is a tax upon
the industry of others, and although the expense of him
may seem at first to fall upon the " tax payer," it must
ultimately fall upon labor, which in the end pays nearly
all the taxes. The common welfare demands that every
man shall be a producer of something useful to the
community, and the more he produces the more valuable
he is. The contrary doctrine that there are too many pro-
ducers and too much production, is a mischievous delu-
sion, more mischievous to the workingmen who advo-
cate it, than to any other class of our people.
It may be that ethics must first enlighten the con-
stituencies before it can dominate our statesmen or purify
our laws, but through the discipline of much poverty
and tribulation we shall at last learn this lesson, that the
true test of any public measure is not whelher it is of
advantage to me or my trade, to my order, sect, or class,
but, is it right?
SEPARATION.
BY JOEL BENTON.
We walked on Alpine summits — you and I, —
High peaks of thought magnificent and free,
But you have found a group apart from me,
Whose cramped horizon dwarfs the boundless sky;
Your purity of aim is nobly high, —
There is no acolyte, nor can ever be,
More full of zeal, love and sincerity,
And for your cause you let all else go by.
Friends still we are, but different ways we go,
Each in his style to solve high spiritual laws;
I wish you happy, and, while I am so
And the old order makes its tender pause,
I think how severed on alien shores we stand.
Farther than any sea from land to land.
ATeiv York.
A SILENT INTRUDER.
(A SONNET.)
BY LEE FAIRCHILD.
With weary heart I leave the busy ways
Of men and wander in the leaf)' wood —
The dusky, timbered fields of solitude —
Whose paths are mantled with the mingled haze
Of sun and shade; where blend and float the lays
Of many birds each singing as it should
Its fragmentary song, half-understood
By him who fain would join their artless praise —
For God loves wordless songs. But I refrain
From mingling with their songs the notes of creeds
(Coinage of brains estranged from heart and love)
Lest Nature, frowning, bid me not again
Intrude upon her fields where Worship pleads
Her cause in call of thrush and coo of dove!
Letviston, Idaho.
Says the Christian Register:
Mr. Moncure D. Conway, in The Open Court, has published
two " Chats with a Chimpanzee." Mr. Conway's method differs
from that of the average reporter. Mr. Conway interviews a
chimpanzee, and makes him talk like a philosopher. The average
reporter interviews a philosopher, and makes him talk like a chim-
panzee.
THE OREN COURT.
1 85
The Open Court.
A. Fortnightly Journal.
Published every other Thursday at 169 to 175 La Salic Street (Nixon
Building*, corner Monroe Street, by
THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY
B. F. UNDERWOOD, SARA A. UNDERWOOD,
Editor and Manager. Associate Editor.
The leading object of The Open Court is to continue
the work of The Index, that is, to establish religion on the
basis of Science and in connection therewith it will present the
Monistic philosophy. The founder of this journal believes this
will furnish to others what it has to him, a religion which
embraces all that is true and good in the religion that was taught
in childhood to them and him.
Editorially, Monism and Agnosticism, so variously defined,
will be treated not as antagonistic systems, but as positive and
negative aspects of the one and only rational scientific philosophy,
which, the editors hold, includes elements of truth common to
all religions, without implying either the validity of theological
assumption, or any limitations of possible knowledge, except such
as the conditions of human thought impose.
The Open Court, while advocating morals and rational
religious thought on the firm basis of Science, will aim to substi-
tute for unquestioning credulitv intelligent inquiry, for blind faith
rational religious views, for unreasoning bigotry a liberal spirit,
for sectarianism a broad and generous humanitarianism. With
this end in view, this journal will submit all opinion to the crucial
test of reason, encouraging the independent discussion by able
thinkers of the great moral, religious, social and philosophical
problems which are engaging the attention of thoughtful minds
and upon the solution of which depend largely the highest inter-
ests of mankind.
While Contributors are expected to express freely their own
views, the Editors are responsible only for editorial matter.
Terms of subscription three dollars per year in advance,
postpaid to any part of the United States, and three dollars and
fifty cents to foreign countries comprised in the postal union.
All communications intended for and all business letters
relating to The Open Court should be addressed to B. F.
Underwood, P. O. Drawer F, Chicago, Illinois, to whom should
be made pavable checks, postal orders and express orders.
THURSDAY, MAY 12, 1887.
THE PRIMITIVE STRUGGLE AND MODERN COM-
PETITION.
Natural selection must have played an important
part in the development of man in the early periods
of his existence, but happily with his departure from
the point of his animal origin the struggle for exist-
ence acquired a milder form. Civilized man has
emancipated himself from the conditions under which
his ancestors struggled, and he has been able to sub-
stitute for the forces of the outer world, his own pur-
posive action. He now contemplates his relations
and surroundings, and by means of political and so-
cial institutions seeks to improve them. He has con-
ceptions of equal rights and reciprocal duties and obli-
gations, with extended sympathies; and these awaken
and sustain his interest in the welfare of his race. In
these social conditions in which the conduct of men
is more and more governed by fixed moral princi-
ples and in which the tendency is to work together
for the general improvement, the influence of natu-
ral selection is small and continually becoming less
"With civilized nations," says Darwin, "as far as an
advanced standard of morality and an increased num-
ber of fairly endowed men are concerned, natural
selection apparently affects but little, though the
fundamental social instincts were originally thus-
gained."
The influence of natural selection on man has be-
come less in proportion as he has consciously
exercised his powers for definite ends. In uniting;
for a common object men have been able to accom-
plish in a day what might not in a century and prob-
ably would never have been brought about by natu-
ral selection alone, preventing, too, incalculable suf-
fering and loss unavoidable in a merciless "struggle-
for existence."
And yet the competitive principle, which has-
ever been the essential fact in the struggle for exist-
ence, prevails and must ever prevail in the highest
intellectual and social conditions. Men now com-
pete in useful arts and industries. Educational
institutions compete in methods and efficiency of
instruction. Institutions of charity compete with
one another in relieving want and distress. The-
doctors, divided into various schools, compete in the-
art of overcoming disease, each school trying to-
prove the superiority of its own method. The
churches compete in the attractions and inducements,
offered to increase membership, attendance, and.
influence, to Christianize the heathen, and to save
souls from hell. Very different these and other-
similar forms of competition, where the manifest
object is to contribute to individual and social well-
being, from that heartless and cruel struggle in which
those only could survive that seized every advantage
of strength and position to crush and destroy their
less fortunate competitors.
At the same time there are deplorable evils, — the
natural outcome of competition as it exists among-
us to-day, — as seen in the contrasts presented by the
extremes of wealth and poverty, and the strained
relations between capital and labor. Great wealth
gives great power; and they who possess it are very
liable to employ it to their own advantage and in the
interests of the class to which they belong, with but
little consideration for the rights or the welfare of
the poor. Intemperance, extravagance, waste, and
idleness, no doubt account for much of the extreme
poverty that exists, but in spite of this, it is evident
as considerate and conscientious capitalists are ready
to admit, there is a lack of fair and equitable distribu-
tion of the products of labor. Steam and machinery
have enormously augmented the power of produc-
tion; but there is a strong feeling that capital profits.
a 36
THE OPEN COURT.
too much, and that labor docs not receive the advan-
tages and benefits to which it is fairly entitled from
the inventions and improvements of the age. The
tendency of modern industrialism is to a division of
labor and its employment by large firms and corpor-
ations, which, by owning the machinery and paying
the smallest possible wages, get most of the immed-
iate advantage of the vast productive power that
invention has put into their hands.
tor the evils here alluded to numerous panaceas
are offered. One wants a high protective tariff, when
the only consistent, however unreasonable, protective
tariff would be a tariff on every foreigner who comes
to America. Co-operation is another hobby with
some; and it contains, without doubt, a principle that
must be brought more and more into prominence, but
only in co-existence with the opposite principle of
competition as, for instance, in the profit-sharing
enterprises established in Europe and in this country.
A condition in which excellence should not be stim-
ulated by incentives and rewarded by advantages
would, were it possible, destroy all originality and
enterprise. And the incentives and the advantages
must be such as appeal to human nature as it is.
Whether the condition of the workingmen would be
improved if the government should enlarge its func-
tions and assume new responsibilities, as the socialists
propose, may fairly be questioned. The government,
through the influence of wealth and the love of
power and rank, is liable to become despotic, as it is
in European countries where labor organizations are
suppressed, and the meetings of socialists are broken
up by the police, and where military power, although
•derived from the people, awes the people into silence,
- countries from which come the class of foreigners
who advocate a resort to violence to solve the prob-
lem of capital and labor, — the problem of the ages,
which American workingmen are intelligent
-enough to see must be solved by thought, not by
explosions of dynamite. And this should be done
while the country is young and the social conditions
are flexible and modifiable. With age come the
hedges of caste and the hard "cake of custom,"
■which make progress impossible, and which can be
Ibroken up only by revolution.
In a country whose government derives its power
from the consent of the governed, and where every
citizen is a voter, the remedy for all evils that can be
eached by legislation is in the hands of the people,
if, indeed, they have the intelligence to see what is
needed, to subordinate minor issues to a common
purpose, to disregard the petty schemes of narrow-
minded zealots and the professions and promises of
political demagogues, and to unite on sensible and
practical measures. Here, where the right to acquire
wealth, and to its undisturbed possession when ac-
quired, is recognized by all; where the property is
held largely by men who started in life poor, — intelli-
gent men, even of the poorest classes, are not likely
to confound the rights and interests of wage-earners
with chimerical schemes for putting indolence on a
par with industry, and rewarding wastefulness and
improvidence equally with economy and forethought.
PULPIT INFLUENCE ON VITAL QUESTIONS.
That the average man who has but little time to spare
from his daily avocations should be shown, in the occa-
sional hour he can devote to such study, the right course
to be pursued in relation to the vital questions of the
community in which he lives, and he brought by the
influence of clear thinking and eloquent tongued teach-
ers to know I he duty he owes, not only to himself but
to his fellow-men, as to these questions, will be admitted,
we think, by any thoughtful religious teacher. The better
and wiser a citizen, neighbor, husband or father a man is,
the more fitted he must surely become for any advanced
state of existence that may after this life await him.
Now, the clergy, — ministers, as they are claimed to
be, to man's highest spiritual welfare; devoted, according
to popular notions, to the moral as well as to the intel-
lectual uplifting of their fellow men, — should certainly
be the leaders in teaching men their duty on the ques-
tions which to-day have a direct bearing on the welfare
of the community and of the world at large. Many of
these questions are enlisting the close study and thought-
ful investigation of philanthropic thinkers outside the
pulpit, who co-operate with the press in earnest presen-
tation of the truest solution of these problems. But the
preachers, who often get as listeners men and women
too busy or too frivolous to read on these subjects, do
the)' generally fulfill their manifest duty by dwelling in
clear, convincing manner on these matters?
Pondering this query, we have looked over the list
of subjects for last Sunday's sermons in Chicago
churches, trying to put ourselves in the frame of mind
natural to a man of business anxious to know what atti-
tude is the wisest to take on such questions as the struggle
between capital and labor, protection and free trade,
temperance, organization of charities, reform in political
methods, woman suffrage, acceptance of recent scientific
dicta, etc., and desirous of attending that church, what-
ever its denomination, which promises the best help to
him in the solution of these questions, on all of which,
as a voter and business man, he is needs called upon to
act in some way. We give our idea of what his mental
comments might be as he consults the list, which we
present in the order in which we read it:
"'The Child Moses' — When I became a man I put
away all childish things. 'How to Work' — I under-
stand that quite well now. 'What to Do' — That
THE OPEN COURT.
>»7
might help if the kind of work was indicated. ' The
Apostolic Churches' — Too retrospective. 'Hainan,
or Hanged on His Own Gallows ' — That probably has
something to do with temperance, since I see Francis
Murphy is to speak also, but it sounds too sensational
and vindictive; I want to be shown reasonable methods.
' He Began at the Same Scripture, and Preached Unto
Him Jesus '—I've been taught that. 'Go Forward '-
Don't see my way clear. ' Moses' Preparation for His
Work' — Moses cannot help me; he was not a man of
this century. 'Individual Responsibility' —That sounds
b tter, but vague. ' The Gradual Practical Growth of
the Christian Life ' — I understand that now. ' The
Word of Truth — The Spirit of Truth' — Too vague.
' Remedy for the Weariness of Toil' — It's knowledge
I'm in search of, not rest. 'Seed Sowing' — My wild
oats are sown. -General Judgment '-- What I need is
particular and careful judgment. 'Crop Bearing'—
Smacks of the farm. ' Our Duty to Our Mayor and
Reform'— Ah, that touches somewhat my needs!
'Liberty Enlightening the World '—Would prefer
that about the Fourth of July. 'The Two Rocks'—
Makes me think of Scylla and Charybdis. 'The Sac-
raments'— That will not enlighten me, nor will 'The
Communion of the Early Church.' 'Shakespeare as
an Interpreter of Religious Truths'- I wish he was
living to-day and would interpret for me my duty.
'The Family of Christ' — Just now I want to know
what can be done to increase the welfare of the great
human family. And the sermons on ' The Magnetism
of the Cross,' ' The Expediency of Christ's Departure,'
'Christian Warfare,' 'False Piety,' 'Alive Unto
God,' etc., promise no better than the others. 'Ye
Say it is Four Months to the Harvest, but I tell you
that the Fields are Already White,' might include some
helpful suggestions, but more promising is the subject
of 'Great Principles and Commonplace Lives,' for it
is great principles that 1 am in search of; but, alas! the
preacher in this case, I notice, is not in the least ortho-
dox, but a teacher of ethical culture."
And so our anxious se:ircher for light from the pul-
pit goes through the whole published list, embracing
various subjects as ill suited to his needs, such as " Old
Wills Dug Out," "A Smitten Shepherd" and "House-
Cleaning," and it is fair to infer rises from the perusal
with a feeling of discouragement that may induce him
to trust to circumstances to guide his action on vital ques-
•ions when presented to him ; while on this particular Sun-
day he takes down his fishing rod and hies him to the lake,
since the bait thrown out in the newspapeis for him by
tiiese " fishers of men " is so unattractive. s. a. u.
In an article entitled " Trial by Newspaper," in the
North American Review for Ma)-, the writer argues
that the course followed by the press during the recent
trial of the New York aldermen, has helped to encour-
age a reaction of public opinion in their favor, and that
the resentment of many thoughtful minds at the conduct
of the press during these trials, is a sufficient indication
that the newspaper may take too great liberties. The
fact that there was little or no doubt as to the guilt of
the accused aldermen did not justify the press in trying
the case and pronouncing the prisoners guilty; that was
the work of the courts, and as in them only, all the e\ i-
dence was brought forward and submitted, and all the
arguments for and against listened to by a disinterested
jury, so to them only belonged the right of trial and
decision. Innocent lives have before this been sacrificed
to public opinion, and the newspaper with its disposition
to try cases in its columns, may administer to the unrea-
soning and prejudiced feeling that so often exists in the
minds of the people. The right of individual opinion
cannot be questioned, and the action of judge or jury
may with reasonableness be criticised, but the right to
try and decide a case belongs to the courts of law alone.
# * #
The 20th anniversary of the Free Religious Associ-
ation, to be held in Boston on the 26th and 27th of this
month, promises to be an exceptionally interesting occa-
sion. LTnder the lead of President Potter the question
is to be raised whether a reorganization of the Associa-
tion may not be demanded by the changed conditions of
the time, to adapt it 10 new methods of work; and
Messrs. M. D. Conway, Wm. M. Salter, A. W. Stevens,..
M.J. Savage and Thomas Davidson are to make ad-
dresses bearing on this theme. Another subject of dis-
cussion is the very practical one of " Sunday Observance
and Sunday Laws." Capt. Robert C. Adams, of Mon-
treal, is to open this topic, and is to be followed by Col.
T. W. Higginson, Judge Putnam, Mrs. E. D. Cheney,
Rabbi Lasker and others. Captain Adams is also to
preside at the festival in the evening. All the meetings
of the Association this year are to be held in the Tre-
mont Temple building, and it behooves all lovers of a
religion of reason and humanity to be there.
* * #
Dean Burgon, a churchman, writing in 'J'he Fort-
nightly for April, after an unsuccessful attempt to refute
Canon Fremantle, whose article entitled " Theology
Under its Changed Conditions," appeared in the March
number, addresses himself to the leader in the old theo-
logical manner. The question of evidence is ignored,,
and anyone "who has heen so unhappy as to have his
faith shaken in the Scriptures" "in toiling through the
present controversy," "and if not least of all, he has
been so ill-advised as to put up with that weakest of"
unphilosophrcal imaginations, the hypothesis of evolu-
tion," he is told that unless he turns his face away, unless,
he stops short "in his present downward course," he
will reap the terrible consequences that are reserved to-
^8S
THE OPEN COURT.
5>e visited upon those who reject the truth. This is one
way to affect the mind. It may be paralyzed by a
•degrading fear; it may, through a superstitious horror
■of the consequences, refrain from freely searching for
the truth, but there are many minds whose sense of
right is not so perverted as to lead them to accept, in
the place of free investigation, teaching that stands so
evidently in need of confirmatory evidence.
Writing on the subject of " The Mormon Propa-
ganda," in the Andover Review for April, D. L. Leon-
ard, who is a resident of Salt Lake City, finds the strik-
ing success of the Latter-Day Saints in making proselytes,
■one of the most startling of religious phenomena of the
age. Over half a million of people in the New World
and the Old have since 1S30 accepted the teaching of
Toseph Smith. The missionaries have had easy work
in converting vast numbers of the more ignorant classes
and in persuading them to abandon home and friends
and flee to "Zion." The missionaries who were sent
ab-oad were instructed to withold certain "truths" (those
regarding plural marriage for example), and to answer
all questions touching that subject with the promise that
;all would he explained when "Zion" was reached. At
present converts are not so easily gained, as is proved by
the comparatively small numbers brought in. Apostacy
is frequent in the church, and the danger attending the
practice of polygamy no doubt deters many from enter-
ing who would otherwise become "children of the
house of Israel." The height of Mormonism has been
reached and its decline has begun.
Some of the leading religious periodicals have of
late contained articles suggesting remedies for the grow-
ing skepticism of the age. In the most of them the
•ground is taken that the unfaithfulness of professed
Christians is one of the most fruitful causes of growing
unbelief, and that nothing will make good the losses of
the church but more earnestness infused into the lives of
those who still remain within the fold. This is indeed
the key of the situation, but whether more earnestness
can be infused may reasonably be doubted. To those
who see deeper than the surface it is evident that
the "burning zeal" and "intense faith" which were
once so strong have vanished forever. The belief
of which they were the expression has fallen before the
advance of science, and in their places are the lesser
virtues of unreasoning conformity and regular church-
going. It does not look as though earnestness could be-
come an element in the lives of the great mass of Chris-
tians to-day.
# * #
An International Congress of Free-thinkers will be held
in London at the Hall of Science, 142 Old street, E. C,
on September 10, 1 1 and 12. The questions to be dis-
cussed are the following:
1. L'enseignement lai'que. — Cet enseignement doit-il etre
neutre dans le sens d'indifterent aux dogmes religieux, 011 doit-il
etre nettement hostile aux croyances religieuses?
1. Secular Education. — Ought this education to be neutral in
the sense of indifference to religious dogmas, or ought it to be
distinctly hostile to religious beliefs?
2. Qu'est-ce que la Libre Pensee? — Examen des doctrines
philosophiques: Spiritualisme, Materialisme, Positivisme.
2. What is Free-thought? — Examination of the philosophic
doctrines: -Spiritualism, Materialism, Positivism.
3. Pcut-on separer la question de Libre Pense'e de la question
sociale?
3. Is it possible to separate Free-thought from social ques-
tions?
4. Du role social de la Libre Pensee dans le passe, dans le
present et dans l'avenir.
4. The social rule of Free-thought; past, present and future.
5. De l'influence de l'hypnotisme sur la responsibilile morale.
5. The influence of hypnotism on moral responsibility.
6. Laicisation de la sepulture. — Cremation.
6. Secularization of funerals. — Cremation.
The editor of the Secular Review (W. Stewart
Ross) gives to one of his lady correspondents the follow-
ing sensible reply to a question asked :
We have no space here to enter into a discussion of the mor-
als of Mary Wolstonecraft. How is it that you seem to be as hard
upon her as if she were an ordinary parlor- maid or dressmaker?
We will be bound to sav that neither Shakspeare nor Burns nor
Byron deported himself with half the humdrum decorum of the
little man from whom you buy your cheese and bacon; but these
men had colossal merits to set off against their foibles; and, if
your little cheesemonger and chapel deacon had such foibles, he
would have nothing whatever to set off against them, and his ex-
istence, instead of being a glory to his country, would be a paltry
nuisance to society. Why are you not content with the soaring
genius of a character like Byron, without going out of your way
to gloat over his human frailties and follies?
* * *
Dr. Edmund Montgomery writes:
Hypnotism is at present uppermost in French and English
scientific philosophy. The actual phenomena, which are very
wonderful and interesting, will throw much light on mentalitv.
The burning question now is, of course, thought transference, —
the action of mental states in one individual on mental states of
another individual without sensorial mediation. I do not for a
moment believe in it. Professor Delbocuf, who is at present
directing his whole attention to hypnotism, and who is a very fair
judge, by no means materialistically inclined, says in his recent
account of a visit to the Salpitriere: "It is impossible to be too
circumspect in judgment on hypnotic phenomena, some of the
more mysterious of which, — such as the supposed action of the
will across space without physical conductor, — may be explained
by coincidences, auto-suggestions, complaisance in observations,
or unconscious divination of what is expected." Such, in my
opinion, will be the final verdict. That theory of Knowles and
Gurney, of vibrations of cerebral molecules being transferred
direct from one brain to another, is physically absurd.
* * *
The historical lectures recently delivered in this city
by Mr. Edwin D. Mead, of Boston, and the course he
is now giving on " Dante — His Religious Significance,"
" Dante— His Place in History and Politics," " Lessing's
Nathan the Wise," " Immanuel Kant," and " Carlyle and
Emerson," are spoken of in high terms of praise by those
who have heard them. The audiences, not large but
composed of men and women of taste and education,
THE OPEN COURT.
189
have highly appreciated the intellectual treat with which
Mr. Mead has favored them. We wish these lectures
could be repeated in every community in the United
States. Mr. Mead represents the broad culture and
progressive spirit of the age.
The work entitled Creation or Evolution, by
George Ticknor Curtis, by, which, if we rightly inter-
pret the meaning of the author, the theory of evolution
was to have been shown to be untenable and false, has
not succeeded in converting many, if the general tenor
of criticism may be taken as evidence. It is pronounced
a weak and unavailing effort, and W. D. Le Sueur, who
reviews it in the Ma}- number of the Popular Science
Monthly^ declares with justice that its author attacks the
arguments of Spencer and Darwin without an adequate
understanding of the theories of either.
Abbie M. Gannett writes in Unity:
George Eliot had a religion, though, so far as we know, it
was confined by its practical working to this life. With her
religion was duty, "stern and unyielding duty," and her creed
" Love ye one another ; " she recognized the Law that abideth in
all things, and paid reverent homage to it. No religion, when
her life was consecration to truth ? More and more we are learn-
ing that religion consists not so much in belief, as in life. If
religion be the "tie that binds man to God," what constitutes that
" tie ?" Surely a loving devotion to the welfare of his fellow
man.
* * *
The Woman s Journal of Boston relates the fol-
lowing:
A little grand-daughter of Mrs. Mary A. Livermore dis-
likes to be made to mind. One Sunday, after some outbreak, her
father got down the Bible and showed her the text, " Children,
obey vour parents." She looked discontented, but went on read-
ing the chapter, while her father went up-stairs. Presently she
pursued him, Bible in hand, calling eagerly, " Papa ! papa ! It
savs some more. It says, ' Parents, provoke not your children
to wrath,' and that is what you do to me every day ! "
Mine. Concepcion Arenal, the distinguished Spanish
reformer and authoress, writes from Madrid: "Please
add my name to the list of subscribers to the Parker
Fund, where are found far more illustrious names than
mine, but not one in which this act of reverence is more
sincere nor which respects more highly his memory.
Parker died far, very far from the spot where he was
born, but he does not lie in a foreign land. The country
of such a man is the whole earth."
* * *
The commissioners of the Folsom State Prison of
California, recognizing the adverse conditions with
which discharged prisoners have to contend, are consid-
ering whether some supplemental machinery cannot be
devised bv which they shall be taken care of until steady
work of some kind is obtained for them. They are
about to prepare a bill to be presented in the Legislature
in which this important matter, that so concerns the vital
interests of the people, shall be adequately explained.
It is to be hoped that the commissioners of other similar
institutions will follow this most commendable example.
* * *
" I thank you most heartily for the opportunitv <riven
me," writes Edvard Wavrinsky, of Stockholm, Sweden,
in sending his subscription to the Parker Tomb Fund,
" to express my humble admiration and to honor the
memory of the noble Theodore Parker. I am at the
head of a society where all are friends and admirers of
his work."
# * #'
The Sultan of Morocco is a practical prohibitionist.
He recently closed the Moorish tobacco and snuff shops,
ordered large quantities of tobacco to be burned, and
had a number of Moors stripped and flogged through
the streets for smoking contrary to his orders.
THE DIAL.
"JVon Pfumero Floras Nisi Serenas,"
BY WALTER CRANE.
The lichen gathers where the dial stands,
And ivy round the stone has clinging crept,
And age has stained the carven work of hands
That served some busy brain that long has slept;
The storms and changes of a hundred years
Have marred and blurred the pillar's graceful lines;
But spite of sins and sorrows, time and tears,
Still beautiful its ancient legend shines,
Where lovers lolled and lounged in tender talk,
Above the buried flowers rank grasses grovtf,
And trailing weeds efface the gravel walk
Where stiff brocades have rustled long ago;
Yet clear mid all this ruin and decay,
The letters gleaming in the golden light,
Defiant and triumphant ever say:
" I take no heed of hours that are not bright."
And bitter rains may beat and tempests rave,
Dark clouds withhold the sunshine from our sight,
Night plunge the starless world as in a grave,
The dial notes no hours that are not bright.
Oh happy dial, waiting for the sun
Through storm and gloom in one long, tenderdream ;
If dreary days might pass for every one
Like yours, how beautiful our lives would seem.
For who the fretful frowns of fate would fear,
Or scorn that stings or anguish that devours,
If hearts, like Time's serene recorder here,
Took heed of none but golden hours.
i9o THE OPEN COURT
ESCHATOLOGY AND ETHICS.
BY M. C. O'BYRNE.
It was, I think, Wagner the physiologist who asserted
that, while physiology contained or revealed nothing sug-
gestive of a distinct soul, the soul-tenet or doctrine was
nevertheless demanded by man's ethical relations.
Expressed in plain English, this is nearly tantamount to
the proposition ascribed to Voltaire, namely, that if there
were no God, it would, for man's sake, be necessary to
invent one. Reservation and timidity are of no nation-
ality, and I do not forget that mankind, — the higher
developed of the human race, — has become what it now
is in point of the recognized ethical standard, upon and
in accordance with old ideas of morality, — a fact which
necessarily renders many persons apprehensive of the
grave consequences which the general acceptance of
materialistic theories would necessarily involve. Of
course, it would be vain to deny the gravity of those
consequences. If the civilized world really recognized
that the acceptance of materialism was obligatory on the
conscience of civilized man, then there can be no doubt
that not only the basis of ethics, but the whole structure
raised thereon would be in a great measure modified if
not absolutely changed. The world would then have
to acknowledge that no existing law or custom, no
restraint on conduct, no institution, whether social or
domestic, have the right to impose themselves or to be
imposed on us as being originally given by transcen-
dental or divine authority. It would have to discard, or
at least to radically modify the signification of, such terms
as "moral authority" and "the moral sense," so that the
former should mean nothing more than habit-potency
and the corroboration of social utility, the latter the
change effected by heredity and circumstances upon mere
animal .instincts, so that " the moral sense" should be
taken as signifying only empirical liking. In the pur-
suit of truth, — if we are to adhere to the scientific
method of investigating, — it is surely a sign of weakness
should we suffer ourselves to be influenced by consider-
ations of the consequences which may follow in the
wake of our discoveries. No one felt this more keenly
than the late Professor W. K. Clifford, and I may add
that no one has more forcibly expressed his detestation
of the policy of reservation, whether prompted by tim-
idity or by the fear of loosening the bands which have
for ages bound society together. In his essay on " Right
and Wrong," he said:
" Secondly, veracity to the community depends upon
faith in man. * * * And yet it is constantly
whispered that it would be dangerous to divulge certain
truths to the masses. ' I know that the whole thing is
untrue, but then it is so useful for the people; you don't
know what harm \ ou might do by shaking their faith in
it.' Crooked ways are none the less crooked because
they are meant to deceive great masses of people instead
of individuals. If a thing is true, let us all believe it, —
rich and poor, men, women and children. If a thin?
is untrue, let us all disbelieve it, — rich and poor, men,
women and children. Truth is a thing to be shouted
from the housetops, not to be whispered over rose-water
after dinner when the ladies are gone away."
Let us, however, gladly confess our gratitude to the
specialists for the services they have rendered us by help-
ing us on toward the "partirlg of the ways." This is,
undoubtedly, a vital service, even although many of
those who have brought us thither have refused to accom-
pany us beyond that point, preferring to rest in some
half-way house, actuated not perhaps so much by fear of
incurring social odium as by dread of the possible conse-
quences of disseminating opinions whose general accept-
ance might not only involve the subversion of every
existing religion, but also the extirpation of time-sanc-
tioned institutions and the destruction of vested interests-
I have read with interest the paper entitled, " The-
Basis of Ethics,"* by Mr. E. C. Ilegeler. My first
impression on reading the essay was that its author, like
Wagner, considers some form of soul-tenet must be
maintained in order to attain a basis of ethics. Impressed
with this conviction, Mr. Hegeler has evolved a unique
philosophy which he would use, — and indeed does use, —
as the foundation of a religion which, beside its own
special characteristics, embra.es all that is true and good
in Christianity. I think 1 have here correctly stated
the facts as regards Mr. Hegeler's conviction that his.
religion is capable of promoting what we may for the
present define as the moral development of man. At
first sight it may appear that the terminology of fanimism
is somewhat too freely used in the essay. The frequent
repetition of such words as "the human soul," the
"souls of posterity," and "immortality" is a rather
unusual, — not to say surprising, — method to be observed
in connection with a monistic exposition. It should be
remembered, however, that the point aimed at is the
basis of ethics, and since Mr. Ilegeler believes that the
stream of tendency has throughout the ages been good.,
he is perhaps desirous, by a judicious adherence to the
terminology of older religions, to mitigate the harshness-
of the religious evolution or transition. Cicero, when
instructing his son Marcus, and while expounding what
is really the highest, — because the most reason-corrobo-
rated,— ethical code known, acts somewhat similarly with,
regard to the form of religion current among the Roman
people; and Matthew Arnold rightly says: " Dissolvents,
of the old European system of dominant ideas anil facts.
* The Open Court, No. r, page iS.
f "Animism, a term formerly employed in biology to denote the theory of
which St:ihl is the chief expositor; the theory of the soul {anima) as the vital
principle, cause of the normal phenomena of life, or of the ahnornal phenomena
of disease. It is now current in the wider anthropological sense given to it
by Dr. E. B. I'ylor (Primitive Culture, Chapt. II-XV1I), as including the gen-
eral doctrine of souls and other spiritual beings." ( Vide Kncy. Brit., 9th ed->
THE OPEN COURT.
191
we must all be, all of us who have any power of work-
ing; what we have to study is, that we may not be acrid
dissolvents of it." Nevertheless, while conceding this,
we must be very careful not to use words equivocally,
but always, as G. J. Holyoake used to say, do our
utmost to keep different things distinct.
Having been invited to participate in discussing the
monistic philosophy, — a discussion fittingly inaugurated
by Mr. Hegeler's paper, which at the very least touches
the most vital parts of the great question at issue in the
open court of human reason, — I have considered it
necessary to make the above preliminary remarks,
mainly with the view of showing that in the pursuit of
truth our individual likes and dislikes are not of para-
mount importance.
Mr. Hegeler's thesis may be said to lie under three
heads or divisions: First, that dealing with the "human
soul ;" secondly, the question of immortality, and thirdly,
the decision of what is good and bad for man, as afford-
ing a sound and safe basis of individual and social con-
duct. Incidentally also, the "God question" may have
to be referred to, since we find it stated in the essay that
"God and the universe are one." At the outset, then,
of the discussion we have to put this simple query: Is
life a dual or monistic process? So far as I can deter-
mine, the rational or commonsense, — and therefore
scientific, — answer is that matter does its own work and
that for us, spirit has no existence. Consequently, that
which Mr. Hegeler terms the " human soul " is an office,
duty, function, quality {eigenschaft, in the more express-
ive German) of organization. We may otherwise define
it as a form of force, of course understanding also that
we can nowhere discover force as a principle per se,
but always as a somatic or material outcome, existing
nowhere in nature except as an eigenschaft of masses
of atoms of matter. In considering this subject we are
by its very nature . compelled to suppress sentiment ;
feeling and reason may combine in the results, but rea-
son alone claims absolute and undivided sway in their
exposition. The true philosopher speaks and writes in
accordance with Newton's dictum, — non jingo hypo-
theses. Indeed, as I understand it, monism is not an
hypothesis (a si/ppositio?i), but a thesis (a position), and
in this respect it only differs from dogma in so far as
that it claims no higher authority than reason and that
all reasonable human beings possess the power to verify
or refute it on data common to all.
With regard to the modus agcndi of the macrocosm
(the universe) and the microcosm (man) there can be only
two theories possible to us, — the theory of vital princi-
ple and the theory of vital force. On the former, the
existence of two agents in the causation of phenomena
is postulated, — that is, a caput mortuum, body or matter,
animated by soul or spirit. This is animism, the basis
upon which the Christian religion, its ethics and its prom-
ised immortality undeniably rest. The latter theory
uncompromisingly rejects this alleged duality, and claims
that matter has within itself its own inseparable vitality,
so that what by transcendentalists is held to be spirit-
principle is in reality merely force, organic or inorganic,
— an innate, immanent property of matter, or body itself.
This latter theory, applied both to macrocosm and micro-
cosm, is what I understand as monism,— at any rate, it is
that which my reason verifies and confirms, and in accord
with which I endeavor to mold and regulate my life.
So far as 1 can determine, Mr. Hegeler is also in this
sense a monist, and one within whose mental vision the
sublime picture of the poet is ever visible :
" See, through this air, this ocean and this earth
All mutter quick, and bursting into birth.
Above, how high, progressive life may go!
Around, how wide! how deep extend below."
It seems to me, however, that in his anxiety to dem-
onstrate the "human soul," the essayist indulges in much
hyper-subtile, though ingenious, reasoning. It is cer-
tainly the fact that in the region of discovery we owe a
great deal to the imagination. Even Newton himself
was not, properly speaking, an astronomer, but an ideal
physicist, — that is to say, he formulated the laws of the
universe as he found them within himself. All mathe-
matics are but ideal conceptions. For example, length
without breadth exists only in idea, — that is, nowhere but
in the mind. In reality we are all idealists, the dullest
peasant no less than the poet, inasmuch as all we see is
an image or idea of the thing created within ourselves
by the creative organ. Mr. Hegeler, however, is not
content with boundaries, and he, by the free use of the
scientific imagination, builds up a theory by which the
formation of concepts in the hemispherical ganglia, or
gray matter of the brain, may be explained. I am free
to acknowledge that the theory seems to fit the facts, and
it requires no great stretch of the imagination to contem-
plate the cerebrum as an ekklcsia, or deliberative assem-
bly composed, as the essayist says, " of living, feeling
organisms." It is enough for us to know that no spirit,
no immaterial essence or principle, but the hemispherical
irancdia of the brain constitute the real ego, without
which we can have no idea, properly so-called, either of
God, or the universe, or a pimple on the nose. As a mat-
ter of fact we are not called upon to explain function.
Pathology has demonstrated that the cerebral nerves, the
sensory ganglia and the hemispherical ganglia, are the
respective sources of perception and ideation. It is, as
I have said, enough for us to know this, and the ethical
basis is by no means dependent on our being able to
explain function. Indeed, were it otherwise, it seems
that the "culture of ethics" would sorely languish unless
some Semite, possessing anterior cerebral lobes which
specially favored the preponderance of imagination over
reason, should come to revive the cultivation. We may
take it as a maxim that there is a natural solution for
192
THE OPEN COURT.
everything, but true wisdom assures us that there are
limits which we cannot transcend. The rose and the
violet have different perfumes, various of our bodily
glands form different secretions; the ^ery external world
is, with regard to man, an uncertainty, since, according
to the laws of optics, everything should be perceived
upside down. Eschatology, whether in the field of
" natural theology " or of " natural philosophy," is a mere
waste of time and energv. Excessive thought is a dvs-
crasia, an abnormality which can and ought to be only
exercised in youth, while we are in formation. God-
speculation and physical research are processes for bring-
ing the mind into subjective and objective equipoise, the
proper state of the hommc accompli being one of equi-
librium of the brain as of all other organs. " Over-
thought" endangers that equilibrium, and but too often
prepares the way for the thinker to become the victim
of the creations of his own imagination, a condition truly
pitiable even when compared with that of the illiterate,
well-fed, unquestioning clodpole.
From the religious or theological standpoint, the
Augustinian monk (a Kempis) was right in affirming
that " it is the greatest folly to neglect useful and neces-
sary things while seeking things curious and condemned."
I do not question that thejides carbonaria, the assured
faith of a Job or an a Kempis, favors mental quietude,
and perhaps permits its possessors to attain a greater
degree of happiness than is possible to those who are
perpetually and futilely endeavoring to solve the " riddle
of the painful earth," and who are, with respect to what
extends beyond man's ectoderm, the solar system,
" Shut up as in a crumbling tomb, girl round
With blackness as a solid wall."
Now, however, that the floodgates are lifted, where
is the Canute who shall essay to arrest the flood? Zeal-
ous missioners of the Incarnate One continue to point
toward the "Rock of Ages," but that rock avails noth-
ing save to those who wholly shun the impetuous tor-
rent of research. In Mr. Hegeler's essay, however, a
serious attempt is made to provide a succedaneum for
the Christian doctrine of immortality. Perhaps in skill-
ful hands the doctrine of race-perpetuation and form-
evolution could be made acceptable even to those persons
in whom the emotions preponderate. In all candor,
however, it is evident that it will have a long and tedious
struggle to wage ere it can supplant the immortality of
supernaturalism. That which Mr. Hegeler terms the
"human soul" is and can be nothing more than the
mind in its totality of perception and ideation. If we
were, for argument's sake, to concede that this mind is a
congeries of living organisms, — in itself this concession
is a greater eschatological feat than would be that of the
confession of the truth of the Athanasian Creed* — it
would still be true that these only acquired vitality
when consciousness, the manifestation of their life,
began. Prior to the embryonic existence man did not
exist as a sentient being, and in what we term death there
is simply a revertal to the "nothingness" of unconscious-
ness. Reason frees us from the chimera of resurrec-
tion from the dead, but reason also furnishes us with a
perfect substitute in the idea of immortality in our
present bodies. Life is a slow combustion, and that
which goes on after death is nothing else. According
to Plato, the soul possesses knowledge derived from a
prenatal state of existence, the inference being that it
will continue to exist in some future state. The doctrine
of anamnesis is the foundation of the theories which
ascribe so-called innate ideas to the previous life of the
race, those ancestors to whom, as Mr. Hegeler justly
says, we are ourselves so much indebted. By these
same theories, however, we are precluded from all other
immortality than that of the race, but surely this is suf-
ficient to form a basis of right conduct on the part of
every rational, that is healthy, individual of the race.
It is positively quite refreshing after reading Plato's
representation of the doctrine of Socrates, to find Aris-
totle cutting the Gordian knot by a simple question.
Solon had said, "Call no man happy while he lives, but
wait to see the end." Does this, asks Aristotle, mean
that a man can be happy after he is dead ? " Pa?itclos
atopon: altogether absurd!"
We have to face the fact that the old ethical codes,
for which a divine origin and sanction have been claimed,
no longer exercise supreme authority over the enlight-
ened mind as divinely appointed standards of human con-
duct. I think it is Goethe who says that " the funda-
mental characteristic of heathenism is the living for the
present." If this be true, why should we, who are heath-
ens in the sense not of having been born outside, but of
having voluntarily abandoned the Christian pale, be
solicitous with respect to the future ? Some years ago an
English ecclesiastic, the Archbishop of York, publicly
affirmed that the advanced thought of the age in which
we live tended to establish a doctrine so essentially cruel
and selfish that, if logically carried out in the daily lives
of men and women, it would dry up the very fountains of
benevolence and mutual charity. A "logical result," he
said, of this teaching would be that every man would
"choose to modify his notions of duty after his own
* Since this was written, I have re.ul a passage in Dr. Carpenter's Princi-
ples of Mental Physiology (^th ed., page iS) which seems to indicate that ils
author would, to some extent, accept Mr. Hegeler's thesis with respect to the
individual vitality of organic impressions. It is certainly a bold thought, even
though incapable of demonstration. The passige is as follows:
" It scarcely, indeed, admits of doubt that every state of ideational conscious
ness, which is either very strong or is habitually repeated, leaves an organic
impression on the cerebrum, in virtue of which that same slate may be repro-
duced at any future time, in respondence to a suggestion fitted to excite it."
Bearing in mind the mental reservation so characteristic of English savant, the
opinion expressed by Carpenter approximates quite as nearly as we could
expect to Ribot's doctrine of the habit-acquiring energy of living matter,—
" the involuntary activity, fixed and unalterable, which serves as the ground-
work and the instrument of the individu-l activity." (Diseases of the Will,
Chap. I).
THE OPEN COURT.
J93
fashion." The theological idea of duty is an extraordi-
nary one, its foundation being mainly one of fear.
Warped from infancy, the mind of the religionist is un-
able to form a notion of man's responsibility to man, that
is, apart from the idea of deference to God. We know
how the decalogue was given :
"When God of old came down from heaven,
In power and wrath He came;
Before His feet the clouds were riven,
Half darkness and half flame."
Agreeing, as I do, with Mr. Hegeler in his opinion
that the physical and moral evolution of our race have
been co-etaneous and concurrent, I consider that the pres-
ent standard of ethics would have come down to us had
the figment of the two tables of stone never been foisted
upon a visionary, imaginative and impulsive people.
Accepting, as I must, the maxim that "the normal exer-
cise of every organic function is pleasurable," I am able
confidently to believe that the "sovereign good" will be
found to lie in the plane of man's necessities, and that it
will be found to be the direct product of the require-
ments of mankind. In quest of this summum bonum
we need not waste our energies in endless analysis or in
eschatological excursions beyond that noumenon which
is the prop/asm of all things visible and invisible.
I fear this paper already exceeds legitimate bounds,
so the observations I intended to have made on the ques-
tion of the existence of God must be deferred. I may,
however, be permitted to say that if we were to concede
such an existence, it is to me absolutely certain that Pan-
theism would be the only logical theology.
CORRESPONDENCE.
LETTER FROM NEW YORK.
To the Editors: New York, April, 18S7.
On the anniversary of the death of President Lincoln, Walt
Whitman gave a lecture upon that event, together with his remi-
niscences of Lincoln, before a theater full of the literary people
of this city. That was a noteworthy scene, when the "good,
gray poet" slowly made his way, with the help of an usher, to a
seat upon the stage and became the focus of attention.
The picturesque, virile old man has a noble, dome-shaped
head surmounting a ruddy, large-featured face fringed with white
hair and a flowing beard. The blue eyes are still clear and bright,
the expression of the face frank and noble, the voice sweet and
sympathetic. It is Homer without his blindness.
Whitman's recollections are told in a style both graphic and
tender. Only a nature so comprehensive as this could interpret
that undeveloped greatness untimely sent away before it could
understand itself or be understood by others.
Among the listeners that day could be seen the chief editors,
actors and authors of the city, beside such men as Lowell, Charles
Eliot Norton, President Oilman of Johns Hopkins, John Bur-
roughs, and many others.
That New York is becoming an important ethical, as well as
literary, center can safely be asserted. Is it possible that the Hub
is moving westward and threatens to take New York on its way
toward Chicago? However that may be, more than evgr before
is literature the ally of ethics. The vital, upward-tending move-
ments of the age are manifesting themselves in every form. They
will not down at the bidding of the dilettanti. The writer who
spends his life in reporting "psychologic semitones " while great
passions are seething and great blunders and stupidities wait to be
corrected, will soon be restricted to a small and effeminate circle.
Such thoughts forced themselves upon me while perusing
Helen Campbell's Prisoners of Poverty, fresh from the press
of Roberts Bros. It is the condensed cry of anguish of 200,000
working women of this city, whose inarticulate moans are lost
in the roar of our Christian civilization, — a civilization which is
the real Juggernaut, and this the real India which stands in need
of missionaries. Mrs. Campbell's book, while packed with facts
enough to gorge a Gradgrind, is vet as vital as any true work can
possibly be. If it only serves to enlighten women in regard to
the social injustice in which they have been unwitting partakers
and sets them to making departures from old methods of dealing
with women's work and wages, each in her little circle, then there
will be the beginning of a new social order. They have it in
their hands if only they profoundly feel their power and see how
to use it, — a power invisible, pervasive and powerful. But
where is the Joan of Arc who shall inspire, direct and lead on to
the assaidt against the citadel of wrong? Individual work is the
initial step; associated work will naturally follow. Either we
must come to that or be driven "by whips of scorpions" in the
right way.
The book, as it appeared in separate chapters in the Sunday
Tribune, was discussed in every social circle, and Mrs. Campbell
has been invited to present her experiences and views before
various working societies. It remains to be seen how the ortho-
dox will treat the subject of work and workers.
Dr. George F. Pentecost, in the Homilctk Review, severely
arraigns the Christian church, and shows a generous scorn for
that misnamed religion which huddles together a score of Protest-
ant cathedrals, representing millions of dollars, where the rich
worship God in a fashionable manner, while so near to them their
fellows are perishing in squalor, filth and ignorance. He declares
that seven-tenths of the resources of the church are lavished
upon less than three-tenths of the people, and they the favored
classes.
On the other hand I lately heard a sermon from the pastor of
a Fifth avenue church which, with parsonage and accessories,
cost a round million of dollars. Nearly 2,000 persons, including
among them some of the most prominent editors, railroad kings
and millionaires, were present. The sermon, or rather exhorta-
tion, a series of truisms unvitalized with real belief or feeling, but
enunciated in sonorous English, fell like icicles upon the somnolent
congregation. The reverend doctor spoke with proper haughti-
ness of the desire of the laborer for better conditions. " Those
creatures," said he, with ineffable scorn, " these creatures are unsat-
isfied with a Christian civilization I" He declared that the w orld at
large now felt the same hatred of Christ that the Jews once cher-
ished toward Him. "They would crucify us to-day if they could.
Do not make the mistake of thinking otherwise," he asserted;
and no one said him naj'. What shall be thought of such spirit-
ual food, and of its acceptance by one of the foremost churches
of this continent?
Another kind of teaching is going on further down town.
Chickering Hall is packed with people every Sunday morning
and hundreds go away for want of room. But there is work as
well as faith under Mr. Adler's fostering care. The Working-
man's School, conducted under the auspices of the United Relief
Works of the Society for Ethical Culture, is doing noble practical
work. The teachers try to make the labor of the hands help the
development of the brain rather than to simply create artisans.
To this end there is modeling in clay and drawing elementary
geometrical forms, first of all. Pupils then use pasteboard and
194
THE OPEN COURT.
simple tools, flat wood, blocks of wood, and various systematic
mechanical devices. The managers rely strongly upon the moral
effect of systematic work upon the mind of the child, — a reliance
which all close students of human nature will think well founded.
In a late report by them one sentence strikes the key-note of the
subject, " The sense of tightness, translated into terms of human
conduct, becomes the sense of righteousness." Could the same
number of words be made to express a truth of higher value to
the educator?
Pupils construct their own apparatus in the shop, and are thus
" placed in the attitude of original investigators into the phenomena
of nature," the teacher serving to prevent waste of effort. Free-
hand drawing is taught to all, and the child has a varied succes-
sion of lessons, so the brain and body are spared the exhaustion
of long-continued application to one subject.
Girls find occupation in the cutting and fitting of garments,
and in original ornamental designing for the more advanced. It
occurs to me that here, if anywhere, the managers have failed to
extend the scope of mechanical industry into other pursuits, as
they might have done, but there is little room for anything but
praise. An English lady who has been a teacher during the last
ten years in the foremost English training school, and who is
now taking a vacation for the purpose of examining the school
systems in this country, told me, very lately, that this exceeded
any she had yet seen, and her travels had extended from Quebec
to St. Louis. Let us be thankful for so good a beginning and
trust that many others may emulate this noble example.
Hester M. Poole.
THE OPEN COURT.
To the Editors: Selby, Ont.
The Index left but very little to be desired; and that little
seems to have added itself without delay to The Open Court.
" What's in a name ? A rose would smell as sweet by any
other name." Well, there is, after all, a good deal in a name,
and I cannot imagine how a better name than The Open Court
could possibly have been selected for such a paper as The Court
proves to be. The name seems quite original, and its selection
characteristic of its author; and from what I know of him
through years gone by I am well satisfied that this Court, unlike
a good many of the civil courts, will be a court of justice, impar-
tiality, honor and dignity, and that it will be Open for evi-
dence as long as there is any to come in.
" Devoted to the work of establishing ethics and religion upon
a scientific basis." This is what The Open Court has set
itselt to do. Hie labor, hoc opus est. And at this critical juncture
no more important field for urgent work could have been chosen.
For the present is certainly a most critical period in the moral
and religious history of the world. The old religions are crum-
bling to pieces, including the arbitrary, theological, moral sanc-
tions; and the dissolution is so rapid that the masses have dif-
ficulty in readily recovering their moral footing. The work of
reconstruction must of necessity be slower than that of demoli-
tion. Of necessity slower, because, although the philosopher can
grasp the new and better principle and rapidly readjust himself
to his moral environment, the peasant cannot do so with equal
facility. And right here in the midst of this momentous revolu-
tion in man's moral and religious beliefs is one most deplorable
and discouraging aspect of the upheaval. This is the abject
theological pessimism of the times. On every hand from the
theologians in the church and out of it, and even from some
quasi philosophers who ought to know better, we hear the weak
and pusillanimous cry that morality must go down along with
the Christian sanctions thereof, that morality cannot stand with-
out the Christian religion. This is a most pernicious teaching.
It is in effect saying to the masses: " When the popular Christian
sanction of moral conduct is withdrawn there is nothing lett to
bind you to the right, you may follow j'our lower nature without
fear of moral consequences." Now, even were it true that there
is no moral sanction outside theology, the man who is a well-
wisher of his fellows would try and invent a good and sufficient
reason for doing right instead of closing his eyes to a perfectly
valid one. But that there is a thoroughly legitimate and valid
basis in science for the purest morality and the highest religion is
becoming perfectly apparent to all honest, intelligent and in-
structed minds. Were this not so, the moral and social outlook
for humanity would surely be at present dark enough, seeing that
the theological basis of morality and religion is inevitably
doomed. This, then, being certain, the plain duty of every man
who has"the new light is to do what in him lies to set his lost or
fallen neighbor on his feet again on safe and solid ground. If
our Christian friends really have the good of their fellows at
heart they will cease prophesying and proclaming moral ruin to
the world because their creed is gone, and join- us in an effort to
rally and reassure our fellow-travelers. Knowing what we do,
however, of human nature in its present stage we can hardly
hope for this, and must be content to go on faithfully and do
what we can, inspired by the hope that the light now breaking
will in due time be as the noon-day sun. To hasten this rising
sun toward the meridian is obviously the high motive and object
of establishing such a magazine as The Open Court. And,
as previously remarked, at this critical period in the development
of man's moral and religious nature, no higher motive or more
laudable object could possibly move the proprietor and editors.
All hail, then, to The Open Court, and all honor to such phil-
anthropists, actuated by that genuine altruism which will, we
hope, in the near future more freely characterize the average man.
Allen Pringle.
THE PARKER TOMB FUND.
Correspondence between W.J. Potter and Theo. Stanton.
To the Editors:
The following letter explains itself:
New Bedford, Mass., Feb. 9, 1SS7.
Mr. Theodore Stanton,
My Dear Sir: As the movement for securing money to
renovate Theodore Parker's grave at Florence appears to have
been started by you, I write to you to learn your views with
regard to carrying out the project, and also to represent to you
a feeling which has shown itself pretty strongly among Mr.
Parker's nearest friends here against any interference with the
original design of the structure. You, perhaps, noticed Miss
Hannah Stevenson's letter in The Index last summer on this point.
She lived in Mr. Parker's family for many years; was with him
and Mrs. Parker when he died, and says that the arrangements of
the grave were all designed in accordance with the wishes of the
family, and following what they knew to be Mr. Parker's own
wishes. Others of Mr. Parker's friends in Boston knew these
facts, and, therefore, the subscription to the fund has been slight
among them. Others, most probably, would not have subscribed
if they had known these facts at the outset, and had felt that the
money was to be positively used for a new kind of structure. I,
for one, should not have done so. And when I subscribed 1
assumed, as perhaps others did, that what was to be done was not
definitely settled — including the proposed bust — but would
depend on the opinions the proposition would call forth, as well
as on the amount of money subscribed. My own present judg-
ment is, now that I know the feeling of these friends nearest to
Mr. Parker and his family, and know Mr. Parker's own
feeling, that the design of the grave should be preserved.
Perhaps a more durable stone may be needed and reno-
vation required from time to time; and the shrubs and flowers
may need annual care to keep them abundant. Yet I would not
have the grave look too artificial; let nature do something. Parker
was a child of nature and Puritanism. It is evident that some of
the visitors who think it looks " neglected " do not find it suffi-
ciently trimmed. Perhaps if there should come money enough,
THE OPEN COURT.
i95
a bust of Parker might be placed somewhere else in Florence,
with an inscription stating where he is buried, and his own
request for a simple grave. Yours truly,
Wh. J. Potter.
As other friends of Theodore Parker and other subscribers to
the Fund may have questions to ask similar to those put in Mr.
Potter's letter, it has occurred to me that it might be well to give
publicity to this letter and to my comments thereon, which follow :
Mr. Potter asks two closely connected questions: 1. My own
views in regard to carrying out the project. 2. Whether this
project will modify the original design of the grave.
In answer to the first point I may say that my own wishes
would be satisfied if a good bronze bust or medallion of Parker
were placed on his tomb. This is a common practice in Euro-
pean cemeteries, and would be a source of pleasure to those who
visit the grave. But who should make this bust or medallion, if
it should be made at all; how the order should be given; who
should decide on its merits — all these details I have never con_
sidered, and, perhaps, it would be premature to do so at present
My friends who have subscribed to the Fund have understood
that the money wa6 to be used "to improve the condition of Theo.
dore Parker's grave." When it shall have been thought proper
to cease collecting further subscriptions, plans might be sug-
gested as to how the Fund should be employed so as to meet
with the approbation of the majority of the subscribers. This
however, is simply a suggestion of mine.
Now a word about interfering with the original design of the
grave. Although I fail to discover in this original design any
artistic or architectural claims for its preservation, still if the near
friends of Mr. Parker cling to it on sentimental grounds, I see no
reason for unnecessarily wounding their feelings by changing it
But if we should finally decide to place a bust or medallion over
he grave, and if we should then find that the present design
must be modified in order to conform to the artistic requirements
of the new situation, 1 suppose that the friends of Mr. Parker
will then yield gracefully, provided nothing is done to destroy
the simplicity that Theodore Parker himself desired should
characterize his last resting place.
To sum up, it seems to me that not until the subscription is
closed and we know how much money we have, and, conse-
quently what can be done, will it be possible to say what form
the memorial should take; and when this is decided it will then,
and not until then, be possible to know whether or no the origi-
. nal design of the tomb must be interfered with.
Paris. Theodore Stanton.
Reserved seats, $1 00, for sale by Messrs. O. Ditson & Co., 451
Washington street, by Crandon & Co., 1 1 Hanover street, at the
office of the Woman's Journal, and at the convention. Admission
to gallery, 50 cents.
F. M. Holland, Secretary.
FREE RELIGIOUS ASSOCIATION.
The twentieth annual meeting of the F. R. A. will be held in
Tremont Temple, Boston, May 26 and 27, commencing with a
business session in Vestry Hall, SS Tremont street, on Thursdav,
May 26, at 7.45 p.m.
The public convention, on Friday, will consider, at its first
session, beginning at 10.30 a.m., the Prospects of Free Religion.
An essay is expected from the President, Potter, with speeches
from Messrs. Conway, Davidson, Stevens, Savage and Salter.
The convention will reopen at 3 p.m. with a speech by
Captain R. C. Adams, on Sunday Amusements; Judge Putnam
will next state what the Sunday Law of Massachusetts is as
recently amended, and the discussion will be continued by Colonel
T. W. Higginson and other speakers. Both sessions will be held
in the large hall, and all interested are invited cordiallv.
The festival will be held as usual in the Meionaon, 8S Tre-
mont street. Doors open at 6 p.m.; supper readv at 6.30; speak-
ing to begin at 8; orchestral music. Captain R. C. Adams will
preside and be assisted by others of our favorite speakers.
MIND-READING.
To the Editors: La Salle, III., May 4, 18S7.
In the latest number of The Open Court, Mr. Minot ].
Savage touches a very interesting subject in his article on mind-
reading. He speaks of his experiments, " the story of which in
any fulness would require a volume." He mentions their unac-
countableness, but I wish that he had given us the most striking
example of his experience; one will serve for many. I have
some experience myself on this field. I experimented with the
psychograph and otherwise; but must confess that there is much
scope for self-deception. Faust is right when saving: Dos Wander
ist des Glaubens liebsles Kind. Whosoever believes beforehand,
will be easily convinced by what he calls facts.
The very best essay I have read on this subject of mind-read-
ing is written by Professor Preyer in an essav Das Gedanhen-
lesen. Hypnotism should not be confounded with mind-reading,
but on hypnotizing, magnetizing and other psychological prob-
lems, the very same scientist has written diverse valuable articles,
most of which are published in the Deutsche Rundschau.
I do not have at hand Preyer's essay on mind-reading, but I
remember that he treated the subject with great thoroughness,
and at the same time is far from attaching to it any mysticism, as
may be expected of a sober observer like him.
Sincerely yours,
Pail Carus.
BOOK REVIEWS.
Der Philosophische Kriticismus, und seine Bedeutung fiir
die positive Wissenschaft. Von Prof. A. Riehl. Erster Band :
Geschichte und Methode des philosophischen Kriticismus.
Zweiten Bandes erster Theil: Die sinnlichen und logischen
Grundlagen der Erkenntniss. Zweiter Theil: Zur Wissen-
schaftstheorie und Metaphysik. Leipzig: Wilhelm Engel-
mann, 1870-18S7.
Among the works of contemporary German philosophic writ
ers who attach themselves to Kant, Professor Riehl's Der Philosoph-
ische Kriticismus, is perhaps, the most important. A. Riehl (Pro-
fessor of Philosophy in the University of Freiburg, in Baden)
cannot be called a Kantian, since he differs from Kant in manv
essential points; but in certain fundamental thoughts he is at one
with him. He is a representative of what The Open Court re-
gards as the "only rational, scientific philosophy, " of " Monism
and Agnosticism;" and for that reason the present writer believes
that the work, particularly the last part of it, will be of special in-
terest to the readers of The Open Court. The first volume
treats in admirable manner the history of the methods of philo-
sophical criticism — considering not only Kant, but also Locke
and Hume. The second volume considers in its first part the
bearing of sensation upon the theory of knowledge, the origin and
significance of the conceptions of time and space, perception, the
principle of identity and that of sufficient reason, the relation of
causality, the conceptions of substance and force and the principle
of quantity. The second part, which will doubtless find a larger
circle of readers than the earlier parts, analyzes the notion of phi-
losophy and treats of the metaphysical as contrasted with the
scientific method of constructing systems; and the "caricature of
science and common sense, that in Hegel is called philosophy," is
subjected to sharp criticism. The author cites (pp. 120-127) pas-
sages from Hegel's works which thoroughly justify his verdict
196
THE OPEN COURT.
upon this sort of philosophy. As now Hegelei has rather passed
away in Germany, and is finding many followers in America, it is
to be hoped that Riehl's criticism of it may be deemed worthy of
mature consideration on the other side of the big ocean. The
result of Riehl's criticism of metaphysics (regarded as a doctrine
of the nature of things-in-themselves) is the demonstration of its
impossibility, which result our author maintains in a more un-
equivocal way than Kant, who sought to establish metaphysics on
a practical instead of a theoretical basis. Philosophy as a special
science is not, according to Riehl, a view of the world (Weltan-
schauung); this is given to us as a result of all the positive sciences,
which were themselves what the ancients understood under the
name philosophy. But philosophy is in its theoretic part the
science and criticism of knowledge, and in its practical part the
doctrine of moral ideals. The author next, in a chapter on the
limits and presuppositions of knowledge, combats the " complaints
of the inability of man's understanding to penetrate into the es-
sence of things," and shows that what has often been regarded as
a limit of human knowledge, belongs to the nature of all knowl-
edge,—knowledge never consisting in a doubling of things, but
only in the expression of them in consciousness. To compare the
worth of a thing with its representative in consciousness, its "phe-
nomenon," is not permissible, because the unknown cannot be
compared with the known.
In another chapter on the "origin and notion of experience,"
the author discusses empiricism and nativism and criticises the
very problematical theory of " unconscious syllogisms," and ex-
plains the significance (which according to him is subordinate) ot
Darwin's theory of evolution for transcendental philosophy. A
further chapter handles in excellent fashion the question of the
reality of things and discusses the various idealistic theories, the
untenability of which is demonstrated. The ensuing investiga-
tions into the relation of the psychical phenomena to material
processes follow the lines of Kant and are among the profoundest
parts of the whole work. Then comes a varied discussion of the
vexed problem of determinism, in which the author opposes the
views of Professor William James. Riehl regards determinism
as an indispensable foundation for morals. The next chapter treats
of the question of the Infinite, and the last chapter of necessity
and design in nature. G. v. Gizycki.
Berlin.
In the Wrong Paradise and other Stories. By Andrew
Lang. New York: Harper & Brothers, 1SS7.
This little volume derives its title from a humorous compari.
son of the Greek elysium, the Moslem paradise, and the happy
hunting ground of the Indians. The aim is to expose "the
vanity of men and the unsubstantial character of the future homes
that their fancy has fashioned," including " the ideal heavens of
modern poets and novelists." " To the wrong man each of our
pictured heavens would be a hell, and even to the appropriate de-
votee each would become a tedious purgatory." Still bolder in
treatment is "The Romance of the First Radical." Why-Why,
though a child of the stone age, said in his heart that theology
was "bosh-bosh." The medicine-men, "who combined the func-
tions of the modern clergy and of the medical profession," had
no influence over him, after they had frightened his sick mother
to death, bv pretending to drive the devil out of her. He was
shockingly irreverent even " on tabu-days, once a week, when the
rest of the people were all silent, sedentary and miserable (from a
superstitious feeling which we can no longer understand);" though
some of us still keep up the old savage custom. Worst of all, he
refused to marry in the orthodox way, by knocking down some
stray stranger in the dark and dragging her off a captive. He
actually dared to make love to a slave-girl and elope with her
after she had saved him from falling a victim to a time-honored
observance. Thus the first radical was the first lover. Ere long
he became the first martyr also, and died, predicting that the day
would come when there will be no more slavery to medicine-men.
We are drawing near to the fulfillment of Why-Why's prophecy.
The Art Amateur for May has some novelties in striking
designs for carved oaken chests for halls. The little sketch of
" Comrades," by Ellen Welby, is very pretty, although the dog
seems rather to eclipse the child, whose pleased face must be
imagined from the earnest look in the dog's eyes, who seems
thoroughly satisfied with her attentions. The reports from sales
and exhibitions show an encouraging interest in art. Miss
Wolfe's munificent gift of $200,000, beside her collection of
paintings, to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, will give a pow-
erful impulse to this important institution. Good museums are
the people's schools, where they may study and enjoy great mas-
terpieces as well as if they were their own property. They are
great conservators of art, preserving many a precious object which
would go to destruction without them. The true collector takes
a genuine satisfaction in placing the results of his lifetime where
they will not, under any ordinary circumstances, be separated and
lost. Friends of art too often forget, however, that the adminis-
tration of a museum is as important as it6 collection, and most of
our institutions suffer from the want of means to support an ade-
quate corps of well instructed persons to take care of their pictures
and statues and to reveal their worth to the public. We are glad
to read that the Boston Art Museum has in part supplied this want
and has appointed Mr. Robinson its curator of classical antiqui-
ties, and Mr. Koehler of engravings. Mr. Koehler has just
opened an exhibition of etchings by Rembrandt. Mr. Robinson
has published a catalogue with the history and description of the
sculpture in the museum. There are many other good things in
this number, both in the letterpress and in the illustrations. Mr.
Virgil Williams shows that artists are not wholly impractical in
his significant hint that "a purchaser always likes his picture bet-
ter after it is paid for." Miss Wheeler gives some hints for deco-
rating seashore houses which are suggestive and seasonable. The
instructions to young students in design painting and photog-
raphy are very helpful.
We have received the first number of Co-operative News of
America, a somewhat long name for so small a paper, but, perhaps,
its originators named it with hope that the Co-operative Nc-vs of
America would soon so largely increase that the paper could be
enlarged to accord with the dignity of its title. It is to be pub-
lished quarterly by the Co-operative Board of the Sociologic
Society of America, information in regard to which, with explan-
atory pamphlets, tracts, etc., may be obtained by application to
Mrs. Lita B. Sayles, Secretary, Killingly, Conn.
THE PARKER TOMB FUND.
A fund is now being raised by the friends and admirers of Theodore Par-
ker to improve the condition of his tomb, in the Old Protestant Cemetery, Flor
ence, Ilaly. The list of subscribers to date is as follows :
Miss Frances Power Cobbe, England, £1.
Rev. James Martineau, D.D., " I guinea.
Professor F. W. Newman, " £1.
Miss Anna Swanwick, £1.
Rev. Peter Dean, " 5 shillings.
Mrs. Catharine M. Lyell, " 1 guinea.
Miss Florence Davenport-Hill, " £1.
William Shaen, Esq., £1.
Mine. Jules Favre, Directress of the State Superior Normal School,
Sevres, France, 10 francs.
M.Joseph Fabre, ex-Deputy, Paris, France, 10 francs.
M. Paul Bert, of the Institute, " " 10 francs.
Professor Albert Reville, " " 10 francs.
M. Ernest Renan, of the French Academy, Paris, France, 10 francs.
R. Rheinwald, publisher, Paris, France, 10 francs.
Mme. Griess-Traut, " " 3 francs.
Rev. Louis Leblois, Strasburg, Germany, 5 marcs.
Miss Matilda Goddard, Boston, Mass., $^5.00
Mrs. R. A. Nichols, " " 5.00
Caroline C. Thayer, " " 10.00
The Open Court
A Fortnightly Journal,
Devoted to the Work of Establishing Ethics and Religion Upon a Scientific Basis.
Vol. I. No. 8.
CHICAGO, MAY 26, 1887.
( Three Dollars per Year.
J Single Copies, 15 cts.
THE INFLUENCE OF THE COMBUSTION OF COAL
UPON OUR ATMOSPHERE.
A PAPER READ BEFORE THE SECOND GERMAN MINING ENGINEERS' CONVEN-
TION AT DRESDEN, SEPTEMBER 5, 1SS5.
BY DR. CLEMENS WINKLER,
PROFESSOR OF CHEMISTRY AT THE MINING ACADEMY AT FREIBERG, SAXONY".
Translated from the German by Dr. Paul Cams.
A hundred vears ago people were still in doubt
whether atmospheric air is a mechanical mixture or a
chemical combination of its chief elements, oxygen and
nitrogen. The fact that the two gases could be so
easily separated, was in favor of its being a compound,
while the extraordinary constancy of its proportional
composition seemed to indicate a chemical combination.
The interest taken in this problem ceased rapidly as
soon as it was proven with certainty that the oxygen
and nitrogen of the atmosphere exist beside each other
in a free state, and that the extraordinary and never sub-
siding motion of the aerie ocean which is produced by
the influence of the sunbeams, causes a constant and
intimate mixture of its elements.
Later investigations proved that solar radiance, beside
this merely mechanical influence, exercises also a chemi-
cal, or rather a chemico-physiological influence to pre-
serve the constancy of its mixture. It was further rec-
ognized at an early date that atmospheric air always
and everywhere contains some carbonic acid. But its
amount seemed to be too insignificant a share to be worth
any attention, yet how enormous is the absolute magni-
tude which this small proportion of carbonic acid in the
air constitutes, considering the great expanse of the
atmosphere. This was not fully understood until man's
horizon extended, until his perceptive faculty grew and
his intellectual eye learned to comprise worlds, until he
had succeeded in determining the weight of this our earth
and its atmosphere. Then the imposing transmigration of
carbon taking place in the atmosphere was recognized.
It was stated that all carbonic acid which enters into
the air by combustion, respiration, decay and otherwise,
is converted under the influence of sunlight through
the vegetable kingdom into organized carbon-combi-
nations, viz. into plants, and the liberated oxygen
returns into the atmosphere. As this change takes
place on a large scale, it is the chief condition of a
constant composition of the atmospheric air. Thus the
carbonic acid is prepared as food for the vegetable kino--
dom, and the aerie ocean serves as a store-house, the
stock of which by this unceasing exchange is kept at a
constant level. Since our observations were recorded,
which certainly is no longer than a few hundred years,
the amount of carbonic acid in atmospheric air remained
almost unchanged at an average proportion of o.oj. vol.
perc. = 4:10000 vols. It appears to be little, but in
reality it is enormous. The weight of the whole terres-
trial atmosphere being 5,000 billion tons, this minute pro-
portion represents a quantum of 3 billion tons of carbonic
acid, or Soo,ooo million tons of carbon. This enormous
quantity of carbon is suspended invisible, and scarcely
perceptible in our atmospheric air, it is constantly con-
sumed and constantly redintegrated. In consequence
of this change of matter there is a state of perpetual
migration.
Such is the state of things to-day. But geology
tells us that there has been a period in which the
atmosphere which is our store-house of carbonic acid,
was more saturated. In their early era the temperature
of our planet, being like that of a hothouse, produced a
gigantic flora which later on in its decline formed the
large coal deposits on earth. The same carbonic acid
which in immemorial times roared and stormed through
the high calamites of the paleozoic era, sunk as a
petrified vegetable organism into a long and deathlike
sleep awaiting a new resurrection in our days. It is the
miner who awakens it to a new life which means a new
chemical activity, and civilized mankind are busily
engaged to restore it to the great circulation of nature.
Thus the man of our century heats with the glow
which was blazing down upon earth long before men
were living on its surface, and it is this heat to which
the present time owes the gigantic development by
which it is characterized.
Compare conditions of to-day with those fifty years
ago in countries where large industries exist, and you
will be astonished at the change in such a short space of
time. It is almost a superabundance of force in which
humankind indulges, since we have succeeded to
unlock the coal treasures underground, and make them
subservient to our wants. Man indeed fully understood
how to put the talent in his trust on usury. On the
one hand he is not free from the reproach of profusion,
yet on the other he must be credited for having lifted
198
THE OPEN COURT.
himself with the help of the black bounty, to an intel-
lectual height which never before was attained, not even
in classical antiquity.
Our era is in the full sense of the word an era of
combustion. Every where in places of industrial activity
we see glowing hearths fed with fossil carbon; we meet
with stationary, with movable, and with swimming
chimneys which unceasingly send forth into the aerie
ocean, the gaseous products of combustion, viz., carbonic
acid.
The quantum of carbonic acid which human kind at
present produces by combustion, for either the procrea-
tion of heat or energy, or light or electricity, is extra-
ordinary and greatly enhanced in comparison to former
times. This is done to such an extent that we may ask
whether a re-introduction of carbon which has been
latent for many geological periods into the circulation
of the terrestrial interchange of matter, by the combus-
tion of coal on so large a scale, may not possibly cause
a change of our atmosphere so as to disturb its chemical
equilibrium.
We may decidedly answer this question in the nega-
tive, but it will afford sufficient interest to look at the
problem somewhat closer.
The entire production of pit coal on earth has been
calculated to be per annum 360 million tons, or, on an
average, one million tons per day. If we reconvert this
quantum of fossil carbon into the living vegetable indi-
viduals in the shape of, for instance, our native pines, we
will have a more vivid idea of its amount. 360 million
tons of coal would be 942 million tons or 35S8.5
million cubic feet logs. Now imagine all these pines
at the fittest age for being cut, say of 80 years, their
number would be, according to a calculation kindly
made for this purpose by my learned friend Mr. Judeich,
professor of forestry in Tharandt, 2,625 million trees,
and would cover almost double the area of the kingdom
of Saxony. Pine forests grown by a rational cultiva-
tion should cover the area of about four times the Ger-
man empire in order to produce regularly this quantum
of octogenary wood.
For a further comparison, and with regard to the
mere carbon of coal, we may calculate how much hu-
man force is represented by the quantum of heat an-
nually produced by combustion. Of course our calcula-
tion is only approximative and in some respects may not
be indisputable.
One man gives off by respiration 22 liters* of car-
bonic acid per hour; accordingly his lungs oxidize 12
grams carbon. Now if it were possible to use carbon
directly as food, viz., exclusively to feed the respiratory
organs for the required production of animal heat, one
man power would consume 150 kilo, carbon per year.
If it were possible thus to consume coal by respiration
*One gallon=three and four-fifths liters.
of human organisms, that is to say, by feeding the en-
gine man, the annual production of coal would suffice
for 2,400 million man power.
The entire population of the earth is fully one-half of
this number. So we produce by machines annually,
twice the amount of force which is represented by the
muscle power of all humankind. In other words, the
labor of man has been trippled by the use of coal. The
generation of to-day works three times as much as gene-
rations of former ages, which is done by a three times
greater consumption of carbon. One-third is used as
food for respiration and is produced by the sun's labor
of to-day; two-thirds are taken from the prehistoric
store-room of the coal formation. One- third of the car-
bonic acid produced by combustion is exhaled through
the lungs, two-thirds are emitted through chimneys ot
all sorts into the aerie ocean, and this same carbonic acid
is used upon earth, according to the circulation of mat-
ter, for the growth of new vegetable organisms. Thus
we experience another resurrection of the very same
black bounty which the miner brought up to daylight,
after it has afforded us heat and energy. Or should
it be otherwise? Is it possible that the carbonic acid
which is produced in so great quantities by modern
industry, may not be consumed by plants, but amassed
gradually in our terrestrial atmosphere? There is no
reason to fear such outcome, but we must confess that
we do not know. However, in pondering upon such
problems, we are impressed with the truth, that nature
cannot be measured by human work. Even on our lit-
tle planet, which is diminutively small in comparison to
the universe, proportions are too gigantic to show any
traceable human influence.
The amount of carbon which is wrested from the
interior of the earth by thousands of diligent hands and
by other thousands is used for combustion, this whole
amount of carbon is so exceedingly small as to dwindle
away if compared to the gigantic stock contained in our
terrestrial atmosphere. In spite of the small proportion
of 0.04 vol. perc, it amounts to 800,000 million tons
of carbon, and we add to this by annual combustion only
252 million tons of carbon, which is an increase of
0.0315 per cent. In addition to the 0.04 vol. perc. of
the average proportion of carbonic acid in atmospheric
air, the whole amount would be raised to 0.0400126 vol.
perc.
The difference is so insignificant that it could not be
determined by the most minute methods of investigation,
especially as the homogeneity of air is great but by no
means absolute.
From these and similar considerations we learn
modesty when we compare human work to that of
nature. Man's hand is too weak to interfere noticeably
with the imposing mechanism of the cosmic gear. We
work on a small scale, and too slowly to disturb the
THE OPEN COURT.
199
equilibrium of the proportions ruling on earth. Even
suppose we used all pyrites which can be produced
at all by mining, irrespective of pecuniary gains, and
submitted them to the process of roasting and the manu-
facture of sulphuric acid in order to submerge all dolo-
mites and limestones, the enormous quantity of car-
bonic acid which would develop, would be swept away
by the wind, and soon be lost in the aerie ocean.
This our smallness must not affect or oppress us!
In spite of it our time is great, perhaps the greatest
which humankind lived. We may indulge in com-
parisons like those we made, but an estimation of our
works must be done according to a human measure, for
after all — we are men.
THE IMMORTALITY THAT SCIENCE TEACHES.
BY LESTER F. WARD, A. M.
The concluding paragraph of the short contribution
that I made to the symposium, in the Christian Regis-
ter of April 7 last, has called forth so many interroga-
tories, and appears to have been so little understood,
while at the same time attracting so much attention,
that it has seemed to me almost a duty to expand and
explain it. The paragraph is as follows :
" I would not have it inferred from the above that
science is skeptical as to the immortality of the soul.
Science postulates the immortality, not of the human
soul alone, but of the soul of the least atom of mat-
ter. Consciousness results from the eternal activi-
ties of the universe, is their highest and grandest
product, and not one atom nor one atomic movement is
ever lost. The immortality of science is the eternity of
matter and its motions in the production of phenomena,
and science will always object to all unphilosophical
attempts to confound phenomena with these."
Probably the most satisfactory way to answer these
questions and elucidate the whole subject would be to '
refer all who are interested to my Dvna?nic Sociology,
in which this and many other important psychological
problems are treated as parts of a general system of
philosophy, which, in its scope at least, claims to be com-
plete. But the argument as presented in the fifth
chapter of that work could only be partially appre-
ciated without a previous acquaintance with the series
of considerations which lead up to it, as they are set forth
in the two chapters that precede it; so that a suitable
preparation for intelligently comprehending, not to say
accepting, my point of view, would require the careful
reading of at least three chapters, or nearly 200 pages
of that work, while to be in condition to see the matter
in precisely the same light as I see it would require the
reading of the entire work, or some 1,400 pages.
While I should, of course, be glad to have any who are
interested in my views perform the first, or even the
second of these tasks, I certainly cannot ask it, and do
not expect it, and hence I will attempt in such a manner
as I shall be able within the limits of this article, to
make clear the one point in question. In doing this,
however, I may perhaps be permitted to quote one para-
graph from the work referred to, which will state the
question and indicate the answer in a clearer and more
forcible manner than I could now do by the use of
other words:
" The property of consciousness must therefore be
assumed to inhere in every molecule of protoplasm to a
certain limited degree, which in certain definitely shaped
masses becomes so far increased in intensity as to be
inferable from the actions of such individualized por-
tions of the substance. From this simple state incre-
ment is added to increment throughout the whole
course of organic development, until the highest mani-
festations are reached. Conversely, we are compelled
to predicate of each component of a protoplasmic mole-
cule some trace of the same property, which is the
proper basis for the theory of a universal soul in inani-
mate nature. It exists, but for want of organization it
is too feeble to be perceptible to the human faculties, or
to work any appreciable effects. It is thus that science
at length agrees with vulgar opinion as to the existence
of mind in nature; but there remains this fatal differ-
ence, that instead of magnifying it into omniscience, it
reduces it to practical nescience, and declares thai
increase in mind-force can only take place in proportion
to increase in organization. And while molecular or
chemical organization may so far intensify it as to ren-
der it perceptible to the human faculties, molar ox mor-
phological organization may carry it up to the exalted
height to which it attains in the elite of mankind. The
only intelligence in the universe worthy of the name is
the intelligence of the organized beings which have
been evolved, and the highest manifestation of the
psychic power known to the occupants of this planet is
that which emanates from the human brain. Thus does
science invert the pantheistic pyramid."
Now, if there is one truth that science has taught
more forcibly than any other it is that we can know
only phenomena, and next to this it has taught that we
are ourselves phenomena. It was Kant who said, '•'■Dor
Mensch ist selbst Erscheiming" and this truth science
has a thousand times confirmed. It applies to everv-
thing that constitutes man, his body and mind, his intel-
lect, senses, and will.
A phenomenon, etymologically considered, is that
which appears. To appear implies a time when the
phenomenon did not exist as such. But, as stated in the
article referred to, a beginning implies an end, appear-
ance implies ultimate disappearance, and a phenomenon
is necessarily finite in duration. Man as a phenomenon
must therefore share these attributes, and as certainly as
he has had a beginning so certainly must his existence as
man cease and discontinue altogether.
2 00
THE OPEN COURT.
Where, then, it may well be asked, is the room for
immortality? If the whole man is but a transient phe-
nomenon, what is it that shall endure forever?
Science answers this question of the future by point-
ing to the past. Taking recourse again to etymology
we find that the word phenomenon, while denoting
change and evanescence, connotes permanence and per-
petuity. That which appears must have previously
existed, else it could never appear. The phenomenon
implies the noumenon. It is science and not theology
which negatives as absurd the doctrine of the creation of
anything out of nothing. Every phenomenon is a prod-
uct. It is not a magic apparition. The elements that
compose it existed before they assumed that form.
They had always existed, and after the phenomenon
shall have again disappeared the}- will continue to
exist forever.
These elements are not altogether material. With-
out discussing the ultimate constitution of matter, and
accepting it as a reality and the substratum of all
things, we are still compelled to recognize an immate-
rial part as belonging to that substratum and insepara-
ble from it, but equally independent of all considerations
of time. For it is a postulate of science, and one in
complete harmony with every observed fact, that the
material elements of the universe possess activities by
which alone they are capable of being wrought into
perceptible forms. These activities are as perpetual and
persistent as the material elements themselves, and as
inseparable from them as the human soul is from the
body. They are the atom-souls of Haeckel, and the
true soul of the universe. Just as the material elements
■when raised to the plane of perceptibility become sub-
stance, so the immaterial elements when raised to the
same plane become property, and in the two we have
respectively the basis of all quantity and quality.
These transcendental elements of nature are the
stuff of which all phenomena are made. They are the
true noumena, or things in themselves, and they alone
endure amid all the changes of time. They possess,
moreover, the "promise and potency" of the highest
life, the grandest thought. But they are not themselves
life and thought; these are phenomena, their visible
products. They have been evolved from this raw mate-
rial during eons of change. They have embodied
themselves in long series of increasingly higher forms
that have one after another appeared and disappeared
in the paleontologic history of our planet. After so
long a struggle for higher and higher expression there
has come forth at last, as the loftiest flight of nature,
the phenomenon man, possessing a physical organ of
thought, and capable in his best estate of contemplating
objectively the other products of evolution and of under-
standing in a small degree the laws of the universe.
But now, in the exercise of these truly wonderful
powers, we find this being forgetting that he is himself
a phenomenon and claiming the attributes of things in
themselves. Yet, so far is he from possessing this
right, that he is really, of all nature's earthly products,
the most remote from the primordial cause of things.
The lowest animal or plant is nearer its origin than
man is; the "physical basis of life," protoplasm, is
nearer than the lowest organized creature, and further
progress toward the absolute source of being leads back
through the organic and inorganic substances to the
simplest element of chemistry, and still back to the ten-
uous ether of interstellar space.
So far, again, from any part of man being immortal,
he shows the vast distance that separates him from
that ultimate source by the brevity of his existence as
compared with the enduring, but by no means eternal,
rocks on which by myriad inscriptions he has sought to
perpetuate his memory.
But let it not be supposed that this extremely deriva-
tive and comparatively evanescent character of man in
any way implies a corresponding lack of importance.
On the contrary he stands at the head of a long series of
progressive steos in the mechanical organization of the
primal force of nature, in each of which steps this force
has been made more effective. Organization consists in
the concentration and focalization of the elements of
nature to render them effective in the production of results.
It is the machinery, or economic gearing up of the uni-
verse, and the results are as much greater than those of
unorganized nature, as the achievements of the age of
machinery are greater than those of the ages before
machinery had been introduced. Consciousness, rea-
son, intelligence, and inventive genius represent the
maximum of mechanical organization in the world.
.Civilization is their result, and in place of primeval
forests we have enlightened populations; in place of
wild beasts we have statesmen and philosophers working
out the problems of life, mind, and society. Yet all the
powers of this exalted being, man, are but the original
forces of nature intensified many thousand fold through
organization. The unorganized activities of the universe
are feeble and ineffective for any conscious purpose.
Their energy is scattered and diffused, and wastes itself
in aimless and profitless work. Just as in war, in gov-
ernment, and in industrial economy, it is organization
that achieves success, so has it been with the elements
and forces of primordial nature, and what science denotes
by the terms organic progress and biologic evolution is
simply the progressively higher organization of these
elements and forces, from the bathybian ooze of the
sea-bottom to the developed brain of a Napoleon or a
Newton.
But all this implies no increase in the amount of
either the matter or the motion of the universe. Just as
the rays of the winter sun may, by the sun-glass, be
THE OPEN COURT.
20I
intensified to the point of burning, just as the unnoticed
electricity of the atmosphere may, by the Ruhmkorf
coil or the Leyden jar, be converted into a thunderbolt,
so the diffused and imperceptible "mind in nature" may
by similar concentrated direction be made to display
the attributes of consciousness, reason, and intelligent
thought.
ft is something to have learned that there exist, have
always existed, and will ever continue to exist, the inde-
structible and unchangeable elements and powers out of
which, through similar processes, equal, and perhaps far
superior, results may be accomplished. This is the
immortality that science teaches, the faith that inspires
the genuine student of nature, and this pure and enno-
bling sense of truth he would scorn to barter for the
selfish and illusory hope of an eternity of personal
existence.
MYTHOLOGIC RELIGIONS.
BY CHARLES D. B. MILLS.
Kearv, in his Dawn of History, speaks of the
two tendencies always to be marked in religious thought,
since the beginning of history, viz., "the metaphysical
and the mythological tendency," as he calls them.
fn one the mind endeavors, in its conception of the
highest, and of the world we call spiritual, to rise
beyond the realm of the determinate, or of form
and personal, and contemplate superpersonal and
ideal. In the other it is always casting the Supreme
One in the mold of form, framing its thought of
him or it as individual, palpable deity, a veritable
and visible, though may be distant, person. He is a
royal monarch, seated on a gorgeous throne, reign-
ing in regal pomp and splendor, surrounded by his
throngs of courtiers and constant prostrate worshipers,
attended by ministrant armies, passive instruments of
his sovereign will, and swift to execute it on the instant
anywhere throughout his vast domain. His world, the
unseen kingdom of his rule, is a world of personalities,
rank on rank of spirits flown from earth or dis'ant star,
and of angels, archangels, etc., in innumerable hosts
filling the immeasurable realm of this potentate.
Indeed there is no end to the mythology built up from
this germ, the heaven and the hell, and the myriad deni-
zens of these shadowy worlds. " Long," says Mr.
Conway, " before charts of land or sea were made, the
invisible heavens and hells were mapped and reported
in detail." And these invisible realms were peopled
with personalities, more densely, if possible, than any
most thickly populated portion of the earth we know,
as also more formidable and dreaded beings than earth
possesses.
Men have always supposed themselves to have much
more accurate knowledge of the world they have not
seen, than of that they do see, a more definite and sure
communication made to them of the life beyond, than
of the life here and now. And in regard to the latter
it must be owned that the ignorance has always been
dense and profound — this largely for the reason that
the world of the present has been disparaged, postponed
and ignored from the side of religion.
The sway of mythology has been complete. We
all see it plainly in the religions of the rude races. The
disposition to personify or impersonate and to worship
the impersonation, is universal and invincible. Stones,
trees, bits of bone, winds, clouds, waters, etc., etc., have
been made objects of adoration, prayer and sacrifice.
The natives of middle Africa regarded Lander's watch
as alive. The Egyptians, as Herodotus testifies, described
fire as a living being. A respectable Bushman once
told his white friend that he had seen the personal
wind at Haar-fontein. He tried to hit it with a stone,
but it escaped from him into a hill. " In the time of
Tacitus it was said that in the far north of Scandinavia
men might see the very forms of the gods, and the ravs
streaming from their heads."* With the disposition to
anthropomorphism so universal, and the passion for per-
sonification withal so prevailing, the casting of the high-
est in the mold of person, and peopling all the worlds
with deities, human not only but animal, vegetable,
mineral also, has been easy not only, but inevitable.
In the growth of civilization the mind has passed in
a degree from the stage of mythology to that of sci-
ence. Where the savage saw person and act of volitive
personal power in rock, star or wave, the instructed
mind sees force; where he saw miracle, it sees law;
where he bowed and trembled with terror, it beholds
and rejoices with knowledge and reposes in trust. The
whole course and effect of culture has been to exorcise
the spirits that have been held to fill the worlds visible
and invisible, and especially and most persistently
the latter, and lead the intelligence to recognize the
one central unit)', transcendent, impersonal, supremely
sovereign yet benign, sometimes named the Infinite .
One, but a reality so ethereal and removed from human
comprehension, that for it thought hath no conception
and language no name.
The exorcism among ourselves has gone forward to
a very considerable extent, earth and the heavens have
been freed from the sway of the mythic conceits of
recent centuries even, and province after province
once held under that sway, has been rescued and annexed
to the realm of science, seen, recognized to be the
abode of what we call natural law. Still although we
have cast out in good degree the mythologic persons that
once to the imagination haunted and filled the worlds,
the belief yet adheres, even among the most enlightened,
to the idea of one supreme and central person, an indi-
vidualized deity, dwelling somewhere in the realms of
*Tvlor, Primitive Culture.
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THE OPEN COURT.
being in especial manifestions at his presence and
regal power. More than the shadow do we have here
of the old mythological concept; we have largely the
perpetuation and survival. It is reduced, indeed, to its
narrowest, most ultimate form, but is veritably present
all the same. To no doctrine in its faith, probably, does
the mind of Christendom cling with such tenacity at
this hour as that of its personal deity.
And around that idea a wider mythology will inev-
itably spring up, such as has been mentioned, as spon-
taneously as the numerous shoots and suckers from the
seeds and roots of a forest tree. The mind of to-day
seems largely unable to escape from its anthropomor-
phism, and so is held perpetually in the mythologic tether.
One sees it constantly in the sermons and the prayers,
hears it without end in the representations that are
made wherewith to operate on souls in "revivals." I was
struck lately, waiting for a train at a station out in the
country, in noting the interpretations hung up on the
wall of the room by the Adventists, of certain enigmatic
symbols in Daniel and the apocalypse, and the exposi-
tion they give of God's dealings with man, and the
sure destiny that waits the soul. The intense and all-
subordinating realism, and swift running to mythology in
treating such themes of religious life, which appears in
all the faiths of Christendom, is seen there written in
characters only slightly enlarged. And much of it draws
good warrant from the sacred books in which those
faiths plant. The liturgical service of the Episcopal
church is charged with survivals even from a long past
and mainly outgrown age. There we see the demons,
ubiquitous and semi-omnipotent all around us perpetually,
from which we are to pray " the good Lord to
deliver us."
But it is t(3 be apprehended that the process which
has already disintegrated and pulverized so much of the
crude beliefs and dark terrifying superstitions of the past,
will still go on and will abolish the last relic of mythology
that remains among us. There are those who have laid
aside from their thought the concept of person, as
applied to the invisible and eternal. To them the
supreme transcends all that is determinate, limitary or
personal; they cannot admit to their thought aught
that is contradictory to the nature of the Infinite One.
• They see his presence in law, hear his voice in reason,
behold his face and the very soul of his being and the
splendors of his majesty, in excellence and the beaming
light of truth. Here is shrine at which the spirit may
bow and adore and offer its sacrifice without taint or
trace of aught unworthy in its worship; here temple
that idolator's footstep cannot enter. It is a religion
that enlarges, exalts and feeds continually with the
divine ambrosia. And the more knowledge, more per-
ception, the more faith.
Such ones are never curious or impatient to probe
and to penetrate the form and circumstance, the modus
of the life beyond. Sufficient unto the future the prob-
lems, the work of the future; time will solve all. They
recognize the metes and bounds set in the very nature
of tilings to the extension of personality, the veil of
mystery that inevitably falls down upon all determinate
that we know. The living world, the over-arching
universe, with their infinitude of phenomena and shin-
ing laws; the incarnations of the divine in the human —
a beauty and a mystery perpetually — making all the
life hallowed, divine; the study, the improvement and
deliverance of man, are themes and tasks enough for
them. In their worship they advance from the child
stage to the manhood stage. The mind ripening leans
ever less upon person, more upon principle. The
language of picture, of impersonation, speech will
doubtless continue to use, but all will be transparent,
and, so far from hampering, will be rather refreshing
and enlarging to the freed and perceiving mind. It
will carry as little any hint of the personal concept as
now does the prcsopoficsia of the poet, or the beautiful
impersonation by Tyndall, where he celebrates the all-
procreative power and the fatherhood of the sun. We
are already emancipated from any possibility of such
trammel or enmeshing in our use of such words as
nature, the " universal mother," and the like, but to this
hour the terms God, the spiritual world, etc., awaken
invariably either directly or by implication the concept
of person. Why will these words not become also
transparent and exalted as the others? The growth
of man's intelligence in the early days carried to the
recognition of the neuter gender, the use of neuter nouns,
all having been originally and for long ages either mas-
culine or feminine, no thought arising within that any of
the natural objects could be without the attribute both
of person and sex. It seems a very simple perception
to us, but this also was an event in the history of
humanity.
The mind will use the language of impersonation
for picturesqueness, for clothing its thought in beauty,
and, perhaps, for help to definition of the unbounded to
its idea, but it will be entangled in no mesh of anthro-
pomorphism or mythology. It will have clear undimmed
perception of the transcendent reality behind, within
and beyond all, that sublime substance, the One, before
whom thought is important and language dumb. " The
religion of the present," says Huxley, " has renounced
not only idols of wood and idols of stone, but begins to
see the necessity of breaking in pieces the idols built up
of book and traditions and fine spun ecclesiastical cob-
webs; and of cherishing the noblest and most human
of man's emotions, by worship ' for the most part of the
silent sort ' at the altar of the Unknown aud Unknow-
able."
But there will be, I think, celebration. The tongue
THE OPEN COURT.
must stammer if it cannot speak. The spirit will never
cease to be thrilled with sense of the mystery, will
exult with delight in presence of the benificent, all-en-
folding laws. It will burst into song and praise, will
invoke and celebrate the Infinite Beauty and Wisdom
and Excellence. The soul will pillow itself in all
passages of life as also of death upon the bosom of the
boundless power and goodness. It will repose on the
moral, know itself safe and invincible therein, now,
forever. The spendors of the eternal Justice and
Excellence can allure and satisfy it without end.
" Heaven kindly gave our Mood a moral now."
" For other things," says Emerson, " I make poetry
of them, but the moral sentiment makes poetry of me."
The whole universe speaks to the thought as being
charged to the brim with moral energies, and for this
it is that nature wears the bloom of sempiternal youth.
Mr. Tylor speaks of that "tendency to clothe every
thought in concrete shape, which has in all ages been
the main-spring of mythology." Max Midler says:
" I do not hesitate to call the whole history of philoso-
phy, from Thales down to Hegel, an uninterrupted
battle against mythology, a constant protest of thought
against language." It holds the same in religion. This
conflict is the irrepressible one reaching through the
immemorial ages of history. It was never more stern
and internecine than in the present, never so profound,
all-inclusive and vital as now. The issue, though still
distant, was never so clear and unmistakable as at this
hour.
Once the faith, the religion of humanity is inaugu-
rated, it will work a revolution in the world's condition;
mark a step in man's growth and deliverance far beyond
aught seen in any age, we might almost without
exaggeration say, in all the ages of the past. Religion will
be changed both in its concept and its expression, the forms
of its worship, in all its administration, more profoundly
and completely than by any influence that has reached
it since the beginning of history. All the other amelio-
rations and reforms have been preparatory, dispensations
of the Baptist in the wilderness, making open and ready
the way to this the final enfranchisement. Religion,
become one with the simple plain worship of truth
and beaut}-, all its observances and forms must be cor-
respondingly natural, spontaneous, beautiful. The office
of the priest, as we know the priesthood, will have
become obsolete, superseded by the growth that brings
the new age.
It will be both more ideal and more practical,
reaching farthest in its thought, and coming home near-
est in its action. Language, exalted, transparent, free
as it must all be, will be felt lame, inadequate to hint
even the transcendent conception, the communion, the
thrill and the ecstatic joy the soul shall know. Yet the
expression shall be in words that glow, pictures that
speak, images that soar, that lift, purge and inspire.
The age of dream, illusion, mythic mirage will have
passed, age of vision, of inner beholding, and great
strength in truth, in God, will have come.
CHRISTIANITY AND THE MORAL LAW.
I!Y CLARA LANZA.
No attentive and thoughtful observer can have failed
of late years to note how swift ami remarkable a change
has occurred in the heretofore most cherished opinions
of many of us, — a divergence from the worn and down-
trodden paths of religious belief, which following the
law of evolution is destined to spread outward into yet
larger and more important channels. I refer to the
growth of a religion, based not upon dogma or supersti-
tion, but upon ethics that comprise the highest ideals of
human conduct independently of aught save individual
responsibility.
That a religion of this kind contains advantages
more special and lofty than those set forth by the
Christian doctrine, calls for little argument when we per-
ceive that it is by degrees replacing so-called " revealed "
religion in the minds of the thinking people of to-day.
It has been stated somewhere by an eminent theo-
logian that the world in every era of its civilization has
contained about an equal amount of intelligence. The
quantity of this intelligence we will not stop to discuss,
but serious doubts may justly rise as to its quality. In the
same connection we cannot deny that the fundamental
principles of morality have their roots firmly planted in
ages as remote as the existence of man himself. But it
is certain that the comprehension and application of
these principles have greatly varied at different periods,
and that they have little by little put forth new branches
and flowers like the leaves and blossoms of a plant.
Each successive generation, indeed, has seen the mind of
man forever bent upon inquiry and struggling to
emerge from darkness into light, lean in a given direc-
tion toward some particular point where elucidation is
to be expected.- The desired benefit was not always
forthcoming, but each step has been a step forward in
the sense that every honest failure is an indication of
progress. It is not possible to enter into a discussion of
these differentiations here, and even were it to be done,
the result would not be of superlative value per se. Let
it suffice to confine ourselves to the past five and twenty
years during which, in the United States especially,
the tendency toward freedom in religious belief, the
casting away of threadbare tenets, the deft uprising
from the trammels of theology into the broad light of self-
culture and self-dependence, have been too marked to
escape universal attention. Action has finally and
properly come to be regarded from a more elevated
standpoint than mere belief or mere sectarianism. We
iio longer found our estimates of human character upon
204
THE OPEN COURT.
the faith of the individual, but upon his'__behavior. It is
now a matter of indifference as to what peculiar sect a
man may belong to or whether he be attached to any
whatever; we concern ourselves solely with his motives
and sentiments as expressed through his conduct. And
if it be asserted by the few remaining adherents to old-
timed orthodoxy, that the moral law be insufficient to sus-
tain the weakness of human nature, and that something
more, partaking of a divine element, be needed to form
a substantial background for the development of right
feeling and conduct, we must reply that the proof of
this is nowhere visible, while on the other hand the
partisans of Christianity find their faith in numerous
instances powerless to give assistance in the serious
affairs of life. The reason is not far to seek.
Let us fiance for a moment at the facts as they exist
and as they can be observed by anyone who takes the
trouble to look at them. Given conscience as a guide
and the inexorable law of duty ever before us, we are
as it were, in the continual presence of a master whose
commands are inevitably followed by reward or punish-
ment, not necessarily material in either case, — but
always in accordance with the action performed or left
undone. The theory of an existing hereafter where
rewards and punishments will be meted out in propor-
tion to our deserts, is superfluous so far as the rigid
votaries of right living are concerned. This is self-
evident. The ethics of Christianity are in themselves
lofty in conception and in their altruistic significance,
but the figure of Jesus of Nazareth, inseparably con-
nected with them, takes away much of their force by its
remoteness and spirituality. In the desperate struggle
with existence, in moments of sorrow, and in the harsh
and oft repeated conflict of opposed duties, this pale
ethereal essence standing afar and crowned with a
supernatural glory, can neither appeal to nor satisfy the
human heart. If support or sympathy have ever been
derived from this source, they spring from Christ the
man and not from Christ the God, who must forever
remain incapable of human assimilation. Yet, if this
divine element be taken away, the most trustworthy
support of the Christian faith vanishes at once.
The moral law, innate, unalterable, sustaining in
its consolations, swift in censure or approbation, unfail-
ing in its dictates, rests upon a higher plane, — that of
human reason and self-dependence. It looks within for
all that is best and finds its divinity in the soul of man
himself. Here we have food for all our requirements
summed up in two words, — duty and responsibility. It
is absurd to say that any man can escape from these with
impunity, since once beyond their reach, and all is chaos
and desolation until a reconciliation be effected. We
know that in spite of every misery we may be called
upon to endure, our duties are still with us and offer us
relief, and that there is no burden whose weight is
not decreased by a judicious exercise of self-sacrifice.
Too much stress cannot be placed upon the freedom
of the ethical religion from every emotional characteris-
tic, and it is this absence of all passion, sentimentality
and sensuou-iness that constitutes its chief claim to .
superiority.
The self-existing force which Mr. Spencer, in his
Synthetic Philosophy, defines as the unknowable reality
and which is undoubtedly in the estimation of many
thinkers a perfectly satisfactory explanation and under-
standing of the fountain-head of the universe, tends
eternally toward a harmonious development and adjust-
ment in human life and conduct. True progress in its
every branch is dependent upon law; the moment this
truth is ignored comes stagnation, which means ultimate
retrogression. The leaning of ethics is toward ever-
lasting advancement. The morality of to-day is better
than that of yesterday. As individuals and as masses
we occupy a more exalted position morally than we did
a hundred or even fifty years ago. We have seen dur-
ing our lifetime the curse of slavery abolished; the
status of women has been raised; the rights of children
play an important part in our Constitution; our minds are
more tolerant and our vision is not obscured by narrow-
ness of judgment.
We must be cognizant of the fact that the increase
of religious libertv in the United States has been pro-
ductive of untold advantages. From one end of the coun-
try to the other we have seen the aesthetic forms of wor-
ship, which are as pernicious in their falsely directed
influence as is the limited conservatism they often repre-
sent, give way to a grander and nobler cult, — the striv-
ing for individual perfection, which is the more estimable
since it looks for nothing beyond such results as are
entirely personal, and is well content to reap its dearest
compensation from the knowledge that right is practiced
and adhered to for right's sake, and wrong shunned
because it is evil.
We may call attention, in conclusion, to the gradual
influx of Eastern creeds and philosophies into modern
American thought, and which, barring their mystic
phases, are in many ways worthy of study and adapta-
tion. Nearly all of these ancient faiths are pervaded by
a profound spirituality whose workings are certainly
mysterious; but we, in our matter-of-fact enterprising
nature, are hardly the people to be drawn into anything
of this kind. The wheat is here to be separated from
the chaff, and occultism, being everywhere confined
rather to temperament than belief, has little chance for
development in America, where the tendency is in a pre-
cisely opposite direction. Our inclination is plainly to
be observed in the strenuous attempts we are making to
establish a religion that shall stand firmly upon the eter-
nal basis of the moral law, and be tempered with the
widest and most liberal culture. Of course much
THE OPEN COURT.
205
remains to be done and more yet to be learned, and we
frequently toil painfull}' to reach a certain point, only in
the end to slip back, perhaps imperceptibly, into the old
grooves. Still the ethical religion desires nothing greater
than the individual from which to gain its highest inspira-
tions. It cannot refer to a vague divinity that rises spec-
.tral-like in the distance, and say, " Therein rests my hope
of everlasting life." Nor does it regard this restriction
in any way as a misfortune; for, secure in the belief
of absolute responsibility, utter self-dependence and
unswerving obligation, it places its ideals upon the mount-
ain peaks of thought, and is satisfied only when these are
finally attained after fierce and laborious struggles.
Few minds at any age of the world have been able
to divest themselves all at once of educational control,
or prove themselves superior to circumstances or sur-
roundings. Unfortunately, we are so constituted that,
even where the greatest intellectual liberty is obtained,
ideas and beliefs previously acquired still cheat our inde-
pendence. Therefore superstition, though we would
shake it off forever, lingers in the hearts of many of us,
and, loth to depart, gazes sadly into the dim vista of the
past, even while the new religion points upward and
onward into the grandest regions of human endeavor.
Upon the sublime utterances of Jesus of Nazareth no
disparagement is ever to be cast. They are worthy of
all reverence, but always the divine shadow hovers about
them; we see the precepts obscured by the God who, in
His turn, shrinks at last from perception and comprehen-
sion. Yet the moral law remains, and urgently incites
us to action. We keenly feel its presence, and know
that here, at least, there is no danger of searching for
truth and finding a fata morgana. To this also shall
be added the lesson of human experience and the fruits
of human genius.
It must not be supposed that we argue from the
standpoint of scientific materialism, or that we would
seek to eliminate the sublime element from human nature.
It is the latter, in fact, that enables us to gaze unflinch-
ingly before us, conscious of an ever-present, all-endur-
ing power which we ourselves are permitted to reflect.
This is the true meaning of divinity, and in this sense
only was the Nazarene divine.
If we live this life truly and honestly, we have no
reason to regard the future unwillingly. We do not
hope with the uncertainty of the Agnostic, nor like the
Christian do we see the marble and iron of past and
present fade into rosy and golden-tinged visions. But
with the knowledge of having acted well our part, we
may calmly see night close around us, and, folding our
wear)' hands, trust blindly.
NATURAL RELIGION.
BY REV. JOHN W. CHADWICK.
Among Darwin's earlier converts there was a dis-
tinguished author and divine who announced that he
had gradually learned to see that it is just as noble a
conception of the Deity that he created a few original
forms capable of self-development into other forms as
that a fresh act of creation has been required for every
new species. But the popular heart has still preferred the
fresh acts of creation to original germs capable of self-
development ; and wisely so, for intellectually there is no
choice between the two conceptions. They are equally
childish and absurd. An original act of creation is as
inconceivable as the creation of any new species. And
if it satisfied the logical understanding that there is a
God or was one "at last accounts," such distant hear-
say cannot satisfy the cravings of the religious soul for
a present, active, living God. The understanding may
be satisfied by the conception of an outside Divinity who
gave the world a start billions of years ago, since which
it has gone alone, but all religious souls, if they must
choose between this conception and the conception of
continual interference will be sure to choose the latter.
It has been a favorite device with scientific men to
throw a cake to Cerberus, to popular superstition,
stamped with this notion of an original act of creation.
Sometimes, no doubt, the notion has been vital to them-
selves, but the device, however actuated, has always
been unfortunate. It has postponed a little an inevita-
ble day whose brightness will declare that we are not
compelled to choose between the doctrines of continual
interference and an original act of creation since which
the world has gone alone ; that a third way is open for
all lionet and courageous souls, a way which blossoms
all along with the old sense of present Deity and ao-ain
makes natural religion possible for those who walk
therein.
That which I mean by natural religion — the continual
and spontaneous association of all natural order and beauty
• with a superhuman power — had certainly been steadily
decaying throughout Christendom for many centuries
down to the threshold of our own. A pastoral people
conceiving God in the terms of their own daily occupa-
tion said of him: "The Lord is my Shepherd: I shall
not want." Again and again this gracious metaphor
occurred to them : " We are the people of his pasture,
and the sheep of his hand." "He shall feed his flock
like a shepherd ; he shall gather the lambs in his arm
and carry them in his bosom, and shall gently lead the
nursing ewes." But in course of time these pleasant
forms of speech had to make way for others born of the
city and its various activities, born of the market and the
court, the stadium and the arena. The speech which
Jesus used was such as only a countrv boy could use; it
was full of charming pictures of the farm-life and
home-life of the hill country of Judea. But when
Christianity made its first conquests the cities every-
where accepted the new faith before the villages, and
straightway this faith began to express itself in the
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THE OPEN COURT.
terms of city-life, Paul himself setting the bad example
which Christian theologians have followed almost uni-
versally, until now only the poets and poetic men re-
verting here and there to the simpler and more ancient
forms of speech.
Here is one reason for the decline of natural religion.
The theologians have been men who have lived apart
from nature, immersed in cities or in books, or miserably
self-involved, like Calvin, who for years lived in the
awful presence of Mont Blanc and never took one
gleam of its immortal beauty into his mind or heart.
But many other causes have contributed to the same re-
sult. The conception of law was almost entirely foreign
to the Hebrew mind save in the sense of arbitrary regu-
lation. Science was not a Semitic, but an Aryan birth,
and when Christianity became Aryan the Greek and
Roman sense of law began to trench upon, the Hebrew
thought of the divine activity. The more law the less
God, men thought; and still the march of law went on,
subduing province after province to its wide domain. The
Christian doctrine of miracle fostered the evil tendency ; it
induced men to look for God, not in the uniformity of
law, but in its apparent contraventions. Was ever a
more terrible mistake. No wonder the Romanist pre-
fers to think that miracles are still performed. And
morally their faith is infinitely better than the belief that
God is the great — Absentee. But even miracles are no
longer able to disprove an alibi. The theologians argue
laboriously to prove that they are in accordance with
some higher law with which we are not yet acquainted.
So for those who can still cherish this belief the divine
activity is now limited to successive creations of new
species, and for those who cannot, to an original act of
creation, since which the world has been devoid of all
immediate concern with the Almighty.
And so it is that natural religion is not now as for-
merly, the order of the day. There is great enjoyment
of nature at the present time, and the knowledge of
it is increasing every year; not only the knowledge
which results from scientific observation and experiment,
but that which comes from loving conversation of the
painter and the poet with the ineffable beauty of the
world. There was nothing in the ancient world that was
a thousandth part so rich and full as our inheritance of
natural facts and principles and laws. The book of Job
marks the supreme attainment of the Hebrew mind up-
on the side of knowledge of the natural world and ap-
preciation of its order, beauty, grace and charm. The
New Testament is very barren in comparison. Sermons
and volumes have been written about Jesus as "the in-
terpreter of nature." They are a part of the idolatrous
exaggeration of his' personality. "Consider the lilies"
is a royal passage, but it has no brother near the throne.
It is solitary and unique. It is from country life, its
homely aspects of the house and field, that Jesus draws
his lessons. In the meantime Homer's interest in nature
is ever in her broadest aspects, and Virgil's mainly that
of a gentleman fai mer in his crops and trees. The mod-
ern world has multiplied a million fold the interest of
both the Scriptures and the Classics in the natural world
and the expression of this interest in literature and art.
It has put behind it the morbid subjectivity of the mid-
dle ages, to which introspection was the only good, and
their contempt for matter as the opposite of spirit and of
nature as the enemy of God. The signs of this advance
are everywhere apparent. You can see it in the poems
that are written; in the books that are read; in the en-
thusiasm for landscape art; in the ardor with which the
natural sciences are pursued and the multitude and
splendor of their acquired results. And here and there,
no doubt, the earnestness, the seriousness and passion with
which these studies, avocations and vocations are pur-
sued carries them over from the sphere of art and science
into a province which, if not nominally religious, is
surely near "those shining table-lands whereto our God
himself is moon and sun." But that the natural religion
of to-day has any adequate proportion to men's knowl-
edge of the natural order and their delight in natural
beauty — this is a proposition that cannot be successfully
maintained.
How can this knowledge and this delight be made
religious? We cannot go back to fetichism or polythe-
ism, or to the external Creator, the man- like mechanician.
As little can we be satisfied with an absentee Almighty,
who wound up the world "in the beginning" and since
then has left it very much alone. The cravings of the
heart are for an ever-present, ever-acting Deity.
"The intelligible forms of ancient poets,
The fair humanities of old religion,
The power, the beauty, and the majesty,
That had their haunts in dale or piney mountain
Or forest; by slow stream or pebbly spring,
Or chasms and watery depths;
All these have vanished;
They live no longer in the faith of reason,
But still the heart doth need a language."
Is such a language possible in conformity with the
conception of invariable and universal law and an un-
broken sequence of phenomena? If not, well may we
cry as Wordsworth did in bitterness of spirit:
" Great God! I'd rather he
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn
So might I standing on this pleasant lea
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn,
Have sight of Proteus coming from the sea
And hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn."
But there is such a language possible, satisfying at
once to head and heart, as Wordsworth proved when
he proclaimed a presence that disturbed him with the
joy of elevated thoughts, a presence far more deeply
interfused than ever were the many gods of Greek
religion, the one God of the Jews :
" A motion and a spirit that impells
All thinking things, all objects of all thought
And rolls through all things."
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207
And Goethe proved it when he cried:
" What were a God who sat outside to scan
The spheres that 'neath his finger circling ran?
God dwells in all and moves the world and molds;
Himself and nature in one form enfolds;
Thus all that lives in him and breathes and is.
Shall ne'er his power, shall ne'er his presence miss.
That there is such a language possible our own
Weiss made full proof in that rarest bit of lyric rapture
that ever issued from his brain:
" He is the green in every blade,
The health in every boy and maid.
In vonder sunrise flag he blooms
Above a Nation's well earned tombs.
That empty sleeve his arm contains,
That blushing scar his life-blood drains,
That haggard face against the pane
Goes whitening all the murkv street
With God's own dread lest hunger gain
Upon his love's woe burdened feet."
Nor less our Emerson when thus he sang:
" He is the axis of the star.
He is the sparkle of the spar;
He is the heart of every creature;
He is the meaning of each feature;
And his mind is the skv,
Than all it holds more deep and high."
And Tennyson as well :
"The sun, the moon, the stars, the seas, the hills and the plains
Are not these, O, Soul, the vision of him who reigns?
And the ear of man cannot hear; and the eve of man cannot sec,
But if we could see and hear, this vision, — were it not Her"
And Browning too:
"He glows above
With scarce an intervention presses close
And palpitatingly his soul o'er ours!
The everlasting minute of creation
Is felt here; Now it is, as it was then;
His soul is still engaged upon his world."
And so I might go on; but these quotations are
enough to show that there was never yet a thought
of science which lent itself to poetry, and heart, and
worship, more willingly and joyfully than does that
which is the widest and the deepest truth which the
study of nature has yet disclosed — that all phenomena
material and spiritual alike are the organic products of
an infinite and eternal energy from which all things
proceed.
But it takes a long, long time for the great thoughts
of philosophers and philosophic poets to sink into the
general heart, and germinating there, to bring forth in
due season the fair, ripe fruit of average conviction
among men. Opinion is not faith. It does not become
faith till it is wrought into the texture of the mind by
innumerable motions of that noiseless shuttle which
plays back and forth among the threads of thought
and feeling and association on the great loom of time.
But there will come a time when it will be as unavoid-
able fo.r the great majority of men to think of God as
the ever-present and indwelling life of all phenomena,
as it was once for them to think of him as a mechanical
creator, or as differentiated into as many gods and god-
like beings as there are various phenomena in the
natural world. Then once again will all phenomena
possess a transcendental significance, and have a religious
import for mankind. In that day theology shall be
again the science that dominates, because it will be
the science that includes all others, and every law and
harmony and adaptation that different seekers may dis-
cover in their separate fields.
But this natural religion of the future shall not like
the natural theology of the past, imagine that it can
construct its thought and feeling of the Deitv entirelv
from so much of nature as is external to humanity.
Is not the power which wells up in us as conscious-
ness, the same as that which makes the planets circle
and the roses bloom? The God were less than man
whom we could find in nature external to humanity.
But in the nature that is inclusive of humanity, we
can find a God that is mind of our mind, heart of our
heart, love of our love.
PSYCHIATRY, OR PSYCHOLOGICAL MEDICINE.
BY S. V. CLEVENGER, M.D.
Pari I.
Knowledge increase, that has benefited the world in
general, has particularly befriended the lunatic; nor is
the cause of this difficult to understand. When men
contended with other animals for supremacy and the
result was uncertain, even temporary enfeeblement of
mind or body often insured extinction alike for man or
beast; and both were, through fear, ignorance and heart-
lessness, equally indisposed or helpless to aid their kind.
Ages elapse and gradually developed cunning and
skill, — the acquisition, retention and transmission of
knowledge, decided between the savage and his ene-
mies; but the old instincts have been faithfully inherited
by, and are but comparatively little modified in his " civ-
ilized " descendants, who, to within recent times, favored
slavery, until the spread of knowledge taught how bar-
barous slavery was, and that same knowledge gave the
strength and skill to overthrow.
Side by side with ignorance, upon which the politi-
cian fattens, is superstition, that in all times has enabled
the spiritual ruler to dispute and share dominion. Tem-
poral and spiritual rule coquet with and often combat
each other, seldom indeed, for the public good, and the
" herd " suffers most when these two powers combine.
All this preludes an endeavor to show why the treat-
ment of insanity is upon such a low plane among us,
and that it is science and not the church or state that
has advanced the study of psychiatry and improved the
condition of the sick in mind.
Scientific men have sought in vain to penetrate the
stupidity and greed of " statesmen " for concessions to-
ward a more humane and enlightened care of the insane;
and the absolute indifference of the clergy, who arrogate
the credit for all advances to themselves, keeps the people
equally ignorant and indifferent except in the matter of
occasional selfish and emotional solicitude about their
own "souls."
20S
THE OPEN COURT.
Among the American Indians the "medicine man"
officiates as priest and physician. To him sickness and
insanity are diabolisms requiring noisy exorcisms. His
diagnoses and methods of treatment are survivals from
primitive times before medicine dared to protest against
supernaturalism.
The chief of the tribe sometimes cuts short the cere-
monies by ordering the troublesome patient to be aban-
doned to the wolves, a procedure equivalent to the olden
European worse than neglect of such unfortunates.
The earliest provision made for the custody of luna-
tics in England was under the Vagrant Act of 1744, and
we find the constable of Great Staughton, Huntingdon-
shire, recording a charge of Ss. 6d. for watching and
whipping a distracted woman, while Shakespeare causes
Rosalind to mention " the dark house and the whip "
with which madmen were punished.
In the early ages madness was regarded as the sub-
stitution of an evil for the leal personality, necessitating
beatings, starvation and other harsh "curative" meas-
ures. Whether this was due to the teachings of eccle-
siasts, to the indifference of governments, or to the igno-
rance of the masses, or to all these causes combined it is
difficult to determine, but it is beyond dispute that where
church and state have not been aggressively inhuman
in their treatment of the insane the conservatism of both
has retarded proper medical care, and it is the advance
of science that has suppressed political and sacerdotal
barbarities generally and in this particular.
In consequence of the general philanthropic move-
ments that preceded the French Revolution, Chiarrugi
in Italy was foremost in condemning the brutal measures
in use in asylums under governmental and priestly con-
trol. Next, Pinel sought permission from suspicious
and reluctant officials to unchain his lunatics, and de-
nounced the cruel usages common even among medical
men of his day.
As a rule the ordinary practitioner of medicine is hut
little in advance of the political and ecclesiastical con-
freres of his age; most are actuated by the same motives,
are quite as 'mercenary and are but little less supersti-
tious than their associates.
Dr. Conolly who made such great reforms, and Dr.
Gardener Jlill were denounced by the English clergy and
their ignorant following, lay and medical, for unchaining
pauper lunatics and thus imperiling the community.
Quite recently in New York, the Rev. Mr. Gibson
fought against non-restraint for the lunatics in the Utica
asylum. A clergyman politician at the head of a cer-
tain Stale Board of Charity, expressed regret that this
board had been compelled to make an investigation into
a horribly mismanaged asylum, as the stigma outweigh-
ed the advantages of the investigation.
D. Hack Tuke, the editor of the London 'fournxl of
Mental Science, a few years ago looked into the Longue
Pointe and Beauport asylums in Canada, both of which
were under the control of a church sisterhood. The re-
port of that investigation is accessible to all, and the
cruelties therein narrated are almost incredible. About
weekly you will read in the daily newspapers an account
of broken ribs or other evidences of harsh treatment in
political insane asylums, may be a hint at a murder, but
those responsible for such things " investigate " them-
selves, and the public is calmed or regard the matter as
another piece of newspaper unreliability.
Scientific medicine has had to contend with the stu-
pidity, arrogance, greed and inhumanity of the average
physician as well as against similar traits in others; hence
I repeat that to the scientist and to none other is due the
credit of humane psychiatry.
Esquirol adhered to the policy of his master and in-
stituted more careful observations and records of symp-
toms, enabling him to make important advances in treat-
ment. Bayle, Calmed, and since them, numerous others,
not only in strictly medical fields, but such as Herbert
Spencer, Darwin, Huxley, Maudsley, Calderwood, Bain,
Wundt, Carpenter, Meynert, Exner, Spitzka, through
their biological researches have elevated psychological
study to an exactitude little suspected by the mere pre-
scription writer.
As Clouston says: " In a strict sense ' medical psy-
chology ' is a misnomer. If psychology is a real science
it is one and indivisible, and you might as well talk of
medical mathematics or medical physics. But as medical
men seldom have the time, and only a few of them the
special aptitude, for the study of the whole field of psy-
chology, that portion of it which has a relation to their
physiological studies and the practical work of their pro-
fession, has been divided off — not, it is true, by very de-
fined lines — and called medical psychology, just as certain
departments of electricity and acoustics may be called
medical, par excelloicc. An unambitious definition of
medical psychology might be ' mind — as it concerns doc-
tors.' " " When we consider that one in every three hun-
dred of the population is a registered lunatic, the marvel
is how our profession has hitherto got along with so little
systematic teaching or clinical experience of mental dis-
ease." It is owing to the ignorance among physicians of
there being such a science as psychiatry (or psychologi-
cal medicine), that they do not promptly seek the aid of
the specialist in this department; but again, it is not so
remarkable when we hear of the "busy general practi-
tioner " with his crude apparatus and knowledge, under-
taking eye and ear treatment, when only the very igno-
rant are unaware of the development of this branch of
surgery as a separate science.
" It might well be argued," says Clouston, " that psy-
chiatry is the highest branch of medicine, inasmuch as it
is confessedly the most difficult, and relates to the most
important part of man."
THE OPEN COURT.
209
"Everything that lives, looked at from the evolution-
ary standpoint, tends toward mentalization, and all the
tissues of all the nervous organs of all the types of ani-
mal life find their acme in the human brain convolu-
tions. From the purely psychological point of view,
too, a study of mental disorders is essential before the
laws of mind will ever be understood. Pathological
change always throws light upon physiological function."
Clouston's view that " mind — as it concerns doctors,"
is but a province of psychology, is true enough for the
purposes of the alienist (the specialist in mental diseases),
but as a specialist has been fairly described as " one who
knows something of everything and everything of some-
thing," thi alienist should be a psychologist in the
broadest sense of the term. In his endeavor to make
practical applications of physiological psychology he is
or should be, the psychologist.
In addition to a medical education of a superior kind,
which presupposes a respectable scientific and literary
training, the practical psychologist should be able to
read the three great living languages, for there is im-
mensely more information of this kind printed in Ger-
man than in French, and in French than in English.
Including in his previous schooling such things as botany>
zoology, geology, chemistry, he will find need for the
superimposed biology, paleontology, physiological chem-
istry, practical microscopical study of the nervous system,
which includes the brain, and not only the histology 01
man but of animals, and to some extent plants. Com-
parative anatomy, physiology and embryology as afford-
ed by Huxley, Owen, Gegenbaur and Balfour, he will
find fascinating reading, and his leisure can be profitably
devoted to Herbert Spencer, from First Principles to
Sociology and Ethics. He will thus be equipped to
value the researches of Meynert, Exner, Munk, Gud-
den, Spitzka and other students of the minute anatomy of
the brain. He then can estimate the importance and
relationship of diseased brain and bodily conditions, found
post mortem, with the carefully recorded observations
made upon the living patient, in the way of a logical asso-
ciation of cause and effect.
In the better class of asylums in Europe the superin-
tendent and his assistants are selected from among medi-
cal men for their special knowledge, of the kind men-
tioned, and their enthusiasm. Their abilities and single-
ness of purpose 'make them jealous of the care of their
charges. They love their work; are proud of every
success; they watch the progress of their cases and every
physician, nurse and watchman is compelled to record
full observations; the ignorant attendant is made less
ignorant by training and is obliged to render proper
service.
Such alienists are full of their subject and in love
with it. Happily relieved by the government from any
anxiety about getting a living, they are enabled to
develop astonishing skill in the care of the mentally un-
sound; their writings abound in special journals and
good work is promptly recognized and applauded by
other alienists and the discoverer is stimulated to further
successes.
The truly scientific individual detests an untruth, he
has no use for shams, hypocrisy or pretense. Studying,
as he does, facts from which to make deductions, false-
hood is his abomination ; and whosoever ventures into
the circle of scientists and at any time in his career is
discovered to have wilfully misstated, his place knows
him no more, for upon the reliability of an observer de-
pends the extent to which he will be quoted, — granting
that his writings have any value. Bad logic might be
overlooked, but a deliberate lie, never. Science thus
begets truth and truth generates charity toward the un-
fortunate in proportion as truthful revelations disclose
the frailties as well as the order of our human mechan-
ism. Indeed one cannot be scientific unless he is sincere,
believes in his work and is enthusiastic.
In such asylums development proceeds to such an
extent, with the differentiation of labor, that admirable
system and order arise beyond the comprehension of
those unfamiliar with the work. Amid the exactitude
demanded of each department to the common end that
the insane shall be given their best chance toward a res-
toration to reason, cruelty can find no place and swift
justice overtakes the attendant there in this day, if he
uses undue force, to say nothing of blows, in managing
his patients. There the doctrine of Celsus is not favor-
ably regarded : "When the madman has done or said
anything outrageous he is to be coerced with hunger,
chains and stripes."
MONISM, DUALISM AND AGNOSTICISM.
BY PAUL CARUS, PH. D.
I define Monism as that conception of the world
which traces being- and thinking, the object and the sub-
iect, matter and force back to one source, thus explaining
all problems from one principle. The word is derived
from the Greek monos, alone, single, which is pre-
served in many other English words, as monk, a hermit
who lives alone by himself; monarch, a ruler who rules
alone by himself; monotheism, the doctrine that there is
one God, etc.
Monism is thus opposed to dualistic views of life,
according to which being and thinking are not only in
opposition to each other but independent existences. To
assert that the body is a material composition into which
a soul has been placed, is dualism. Likewise it is dual-
ism if you imagine that the soul, after death, leaves the
body and lives somewhere by itself as a pure spirit.
This rests on the dualistic assumption that an omnipotent
spirit exists and was in existence before anything else
existed; he created the material world, endowed it partly
2IO
THE OPEN COURT.
with his spirit, and expects this spirit, after divers trials
and tribulations, to return as pure spirit to himself.
If you take the very opposite view to this theological
conception, it is generally styled materialism, — that the
world was at some time only dead, inert matter, and that
this dead matter, either by chance or by some process
not yet fully understood, produced the wonderful cosmos
with its feeling and thinking beings, — this is also dual-
ism. Should you in either case object to the title of dual-
ism, as vou declare that in the former instance spirit is
the one and only source of existence, and in the latter
you propose matter to be the one and only principle from
which all must be explained, monism nevertheless would
be a wrong name. For in either case you have no unity
of thinking and being but a oneness, which is gained by
excluding the one or the other and reducing the world
cither to the former or the latter. Such conception of
one-sided oneness I should rather call henism, from
heis, henos, one. The root of the word henism is to
be met with in a word like hendiadys, which, in rhetoric,
is used if the same notion is presented in two expres-
sions.
So monism does not only stand in opposition to
dualism, but also to henism, viz.: that of materialism or
of spiritualism. The unity of monism is not attained
by denying the legitimate existence of either spirit or
matter, force or matter, the subjective or the objective,
but by treating both as a unity and having one common
basis.
It is on this ground that all modern science rests;
and especially physiological psychology is based upon
it. German scientists were foremost to recognize the
importance of this truth and accordingly they have
coined the word monism.
The unity of spiritual and material processes in our
brain was pointed out by many diligent workers in the
fields of physiology, neurology and modern psychology.
In a concise form, we have presented the monistic view
to the readers of The Open Court in Professor Ber-
ing's excellent essay " On Memory." Let me quote from
it a passage explaining the fundamental doctrine on
which his inquiries rest:
"The physicist considers the causal continuity of all
material processes as the basis of his inquiry; the
thoughtful psychologist looks for the laws of conscious
life according to the rules of an inductive method and
assumes the validity of an unalterable order. And if
the physiologist learns from simple self-observation that
conscious life is dependent upon his bodily functions,
and vice versa that his body to some extent is subject to
his will, lie has only to assume that this interdepend-
ence of »iin J and body is arranged according to certain
laws and the connection is found which links the science
of matter to the science of consciousness.
Thus considered, phenomena of consciousness appear
to be functions of material changes of organized sub-
stance and vice versa. As I do not wish to mislead, let
me expressly mention, although it is included in the
term function, thus considered, material processes of the
cerebral substance appear to be functions of the phe-
nomena of consciousness. For if two variables are
dependent upon each other, according to certain laws a
change of the one demanding a change of the other and
vice versa, the one is called, as is known, a function of
the other."
From the standpoint of monism the soul is no longer
a metaphysical or transcendental entity. The soul con-
sists of our feeling and thinking; as Wundt* says in
his Ethics, p. 393: " The single activities of the soul
as perceiving, feeling, willing, can be separated from the
soul only by abstraction (or as English logicians would
express it, by generalization). By themselves tlicy are
the ultimate indivisible elements of spiritual life. Thus
if we want to take the soul as a separated entity, dis-
tinguishable from the contents of its consciousness,
this soul is only an empty concept; we suppose it to be a
real existence, while in reality, it is the mere unification
and the constant cohesion of spiritual activities. As
such, the soul is by no means an independent thing, which
might be either a fact or postulate of experience; nor are
perception, will or feeling, independent things."
Life is energy, and is produced according to the law
of preservation and transformation of force. Heat may
be changed into electricity, and any motion into either
heat or electricity ; so also life is a product of heat
and it is no mere simile to say with Zoroaster and the
fire-worshiping Sabians that the sun is the source of life
and we derive our life from him. The molecular
motion of the cosmic heat which, as we know, perme-
ated the planetary system when it still was in the state
of a gaseous nebula is the same heat which is now
vibrating in the sunbeams, it can be and indeed is con-
stantly transformed into that form of energy which we
call life. The constituency of individual life is what
we call soul, and this depends upon the form in which
energy is manifested.
If Wundt calls the soul the mere unification and
constant cohesion of spiritual activities, it is not to be
thought of lightly as if it were a nonentity. It is the
formal, as well as the formative principle, of its mate-
rial existence, viz., the body. Mind is form ; and the
*As the construction of the long German periods cannot he imitated in
English without impairing the translation, I cite for German scholars the
original version of the quoted passage:
" Wie die einzelnen, seelischen, Th£tigkeiten, Vorstellen, Fiihlen, Wollcn,
nur durch unsere Ahstraction getrennt werden kimnen, an sich selhst aber
unthcilhare Elemente des geistigen Lebens sind, so ist auch die Unterschcidung
eirjer von dem Bewusstseinsinhalt verschiedenen Sccle nur die Umwandlung
des leeren Begriffes del Vereinigung und des stctig-en Zusammenhanges der
geistigen Thatigkeiten in ein reales Subslrat. Dieses Klztere ist inderThat
genau eben so wenig ein selbstandig in irgend einer Erfahrung gegebenes Oder
durch diesclhe gefordertes Ding .vie Vorslellung, Wide, Gefiihl selbstandige
Dingc sind."
THE OPEN COURT.
211
importance of form as the spirituality of the world,
\vc learn from the beautiful as it is represented in
art. A poet of philosophical depth, as is Schiller, appre-
ciated this truth when he identified form and ideal in
his poem, "Das Ideal und das Lcbcn" where he says:
" In den hdheren Reg;ionen,
Wo die reinen Formen wobnen . . . . "
According to the principles of monism there can be no
gap between the organic and the anorganic empire, and
there is no doubt that all results of modern chemistry
and physics favor a monistic solution. Professor
W. Preyer, in discussing the hypotheses on the origin of
life* rejects generation itquivoca and hetcrogencsis, and
propounds that the interminable and beginningless
motion of the world is life. Protoplasma is not a com-
position of dead anorganic substances, but organic life
is an intrinsic, eternal, and indelible, quality of matter.
Monism is antagonistic to individualism, which treats
the individual soul as an ultimate unit. Individualism
is the tacit supposition of all utilitarianism in ethics,
and, indeed, if the personal individual be an ultimate
unit there is no reason why it should not consider itself
the center of the universe. Individualism may be
atheistic and deny the existence of a universal spirit)
nevertheless it introduces another kind of God, the
little God of man's own individuality, which, though
insignificant, is no less dear to the single individual. Indi-
vidualism considers all men as so many little Gods for
whose gratification the world exists and moves. Monism
teaches that single individuals are transient things which
consist of the ideas they think and the ideals they aspire
for. This affords a larger basis of ethics, which is neither
exclusively altruistic nor exclusively individualistic and
egotistic. It is not the individual who is an independent
existence, but humanity which lives in the individual;
and the great ALL lives in humanity. The individual
is only one insignificant and transient state of the great
development of human kind, it is one little link in the
immeasurable chain of life and its ultimate units, its
feeling and thinking point beyond the narrow sphere of
its existence. They point back to a distant past, for
they are the outcome of the long development of former
millenniums, and represent the labor of their ancestral
generations. At the same time they point onward to
the future as they are progressing, advancing and
growing in every respect;
Monism is in opposition to the old theology, for
there is no room in monism for the supernatural. Mar-
vels and special revelations are impossible, if monism is
a truth, and more than that, not only the intercession of
a capricious Deity becomes a legend, but the supernat-
ural itself is eliminated forever. In the monistic view, the
supernatural exists neither in nor above nature. All is
natural, and if you speak of God it is the great All in
* Rundschau, 1S75, III, 58.
which we live, and move, and have our being, of whom
the Apostle says that in the end he will be all in all.
Monism has a definite and clear meaning, and should
not be used for all kinds of doctrines which pretend to
be unitary in some way or another. Nor should monism
be identified with agnosticism. It is true that Haeckel
says: " I believe that my monistic convictions agree in all
essential points with that natural philosophy, which in
England is represented as agnosticism." But mark, he
does not say that he agrees with agnosticism. He agrees
with the natural philosophy of men like Huxley, Tyn-
dall and others on all essential points. But I doubt
whether he would accept the philosophy of agnosticism.
Now, agnosticism is a philosophic view which pro-
fesses'to know nothing of the supernatural, and does not
want to. The term was invented by Huxley, and 1
must confess it was no happy invention. To me it seems
essentially the same as skepticism. Accordingly, I do
not take it to be identical with monism, which is a doc-
trine of positive teachings, and asserts to know some-
thing. Their only point of convergency is that both
reject a supernatural explanation of the world; both
oppose dogmatical theology. But that is, as far as I can
see, almost all. There is no positive statement made by
agnosticism; both views have nothing in common but a
common enemy, — supernaturalism. Agnosticism is a
kind of transitory view which, if developed in the right
direction, will lead to monism.
Spencer is generally styled an agnostic, and certainly
he is no monist, although there are passages in his works
which are decidedly monistic. In his ethics he is indi-
vidualistic and utilitarian, and so on this most important
around he i<=, at least, not in consonance with monism.
His doctrine of the Unknowable, it seems to me, is essen-
tially agnostic, and even leaves room for the possibility
of there being some supernatural existence.
How far Mr. Spencer is from monism, and how
deeply he is entangled by his agnosticism, may be learned
from some chapters of his Psychology, where he speaks
of " the substance of mind." Although in other chapters
he endeavors to formulate, and thus explain, all phenom-
ena of mental life in terms of matter and motion, he de-
clares, concei ning " the substance of mind : " " We know
nothing about it, and never can know anything about
it." And the reason for its being unknowable is: " In
brief, a thing cannot at the same instant be both subject
and object of thought; and yet the substance of mind
must be this before it can be known."
It is not my intention, now, to refute this assertion of
Spencer's, nor will I enter into a discussion of his agnos-
ticism; it would lead us too far. From the standpoint
of monism a substance of mind is just as much a nonen-
tity as a substance of electricity. Such ideas must be
dropped as has been the doctrine of the phlogisticon,
i. e., the substance of fire, in which older physicists
212
THE OPEN COURT,
believed. In fine, it may suffice to state that monism is
by no means identical with agnosticism. Just as well
something may be like nothing', and the assertion that
I know something of what is and is not, may be like the
assertion that I know nothing beyond a certain sphere.
In many respects the monistic view is even antagonistic
to agnostic doctrines.
A CRITICISM OF MRS. ELIZABETH CADY STAN-
TON'S ARTICLE "JAILS AND JUBILEES."
PRESENTED BY EDWARD C. HEGELER.
I believe that the worst enemy of woman is wo-
man; it is not only a matter of fact that we find the
strongest adversaries of woman's rights among the
fairer sex, but ladies are always severest in judging
and condemning the real or supposed faults of their
sisters. This truth was re-impressed upon my mind
when I read Mrs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton's article
"Jails and Jubilees," and it is the more noteworthy
as she is one of the most prominent defenders of
woman's rights. I never read a harsher criticism on
Queen Victoria than hers.
It is not now the object to enter into a discussion
of the merits or demerits of the Queen of England's
government, but whatever we as Republicans may
think of royalty, it is not just to make her person-
ally answerable for social ami political evils which
are not in her power to mend.
It is a common saying among Englishmen that a
queen is the best king, and this is said chiefly in remem-
brance of Queen Elizabeth and the present ruler of
England. It certainly does honor to Queen Victoria.
And if, after a long reign the English people intend
to celebrate her jubilee, this shows that to a large
extent they are satisfied with her doings.
Some ancestors of the Queen's were dissolute
spendthrifts; she, as a good wife and mother is
thought by many to have been too economical. If
Queen Victoria saws money for her children she
thereby sets a good example to her people and to us
Americans also. Let us here not forget that saved
money must be invested somewhere and that invested
money is paid out for labor in some manner useful to
the public and so helps to prevent poverty.
A stranger is not warranted in denouncing jubilees
in foreign countries, just as a guest in our land ought
not to scold us, if we prepare to celebrate a me-
morial day in honor of a national event.
It is the just pride of a mother to have many chil-
dren and do her best for them. To say the least,
it is very indelicate of Mrs. Stanton to speak of
the queen's family as her "innumerable progeny."
11 is also unfair to disparage the Prince Consort
>vhos( noble-minded spirit is well known in history.
His faithful efforts as private counselor of the ( Jueen
and his promotion of industry, art and science should
be especially appreciated, on account of his difficult
position in his home and in an adopted country. Is
it just to say of such a man that he " never uttered
one loft}' sentiment or performed one deed of
heroism?"
And have not Queen Victoria and her husband
shown to the world a model family life?
Mis. Stanton, no doubt, has the best intentions
in objecting to what she supposes to be extortion
and tyranny, and I am sure she deserves the high
reputation she enjoys for her active work" in the
elevation of woman; but all the more a faux pas of
hers will be injurious to that cause. Certainly Mrs.
Stanton will not promote it by rousing an unjust and
useless indignation ar/ainst a woman on a throne.
DE PROFUNDIS.
I1Y ELIZABETH OAKES SMITH.
" The eternal silence of these infinite spaces terrifies me." — Past ah
Space beyond space, — unthinkable, — eterne, —
Vainly we number add to number vast,
The limitless infinitude to learn; —
Where are the stars that should an index turn?
Where red resounding comet, flirting past?
Poor human heart! vainly thy pulses yearn;
Silence, eternal silence coldly reigns,
In heavy fall of darkness and dim night,
Thy cry of terror, thy appealing call
Go echoless along receding plains,
Where silence sits in her unconquered might.
Oh, silence! terrible is thy mute fall.
SONNET.
BY ILDA rOESCIIE.
E'en like a .sculptor, youth doth mold our faces;
At first as soft as artist's pliant clay,
Then like his marble fairer day by day
We grow, enriched by thousand changing graces.
Then youth withdraws and thoughtful, paces
In artist-mode, to gaze from far away;
But Time, the master, murmurs: " 'Tis but play,"
And sternly chisels o'er these, deeper traces.
In vain youth's genius tries again to waken
The smiles that flitted o'er the dimpling cheek,
And since all beauty from his work is taken,
Another fresher model doth he seek;
And we are by our loving star forsaken,
\\ hile Time completes his sculpture week by week.
A great idea, a sublime purpose, slowly taking form, through
years, possibly centuries, suddenly possesses an individual and
stands forth incarnate. This individual is then the concrete ex-
pression of the best intuitions and highest aspirations of his time.
Through him the ideal become real, and fresh impetus quickens
humanity's pace toward the good. The influence of such an in-
dividual is incalculable. The memory of his character is potent
with uplifting force; the more potent in that he has but exempli-
fied some of the grand possibilities of human effort.— G. M. B. in
Religio- Philosophical Jour mil.
THE OPKN COURT.
213
The Open Court.
A Fortnightly Journal.
Published every other Thursday at 169. to 175 La Salle Street (.Nixon
Building), corner Monroe Street, by
THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY
B. F. UNDERWOOD,
Editor and Manager.
SARA A. UNDERWOOD,
Associate Editor.
The leading object of The Open Court is to continue
the work of The Index, that is, to establish religion on the
basis of Science and in connection therewith it will present the
Monistic philosophy. The founder of this journal believes this
will furnish to others what it has to him, a religion which
embraces all that is true and good in the religion that was taught
in childhood to them and him.
Editorially, Monism and Agnosticism, so variously defined,
will be treated not as antagonistic systems, but as positive and
negative aspects of the one and only rational scientific philosophy,
which, the editors hold, includes elements of truth common to
all religions, without implying either the validity of theological
assumption, or any limitations of possible knowledge, except such
as the conditions of human thought impose.
The Open Court, while advocating morals and rational
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tute for unquestioning credulity intelligent inquiry, for blind faith
rational religious views, for unreasoning bigotry a liberal spirit,
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and upon the solution of which depend largely the highest inter-
ests of mankind.
While Contributors are expected to express freely their own
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THURSDAY, MAY 26, 1SS7.
LIBERALISM.
The word "liberal" in this country is commonly
applied to unorthodox religious views, and to the
person who holds to them. In the large class desig-
nated by the word are those of every degree of cul-
ture and social standing, of widely different tastes
and of opposite views on almost every subject out-
side the province of demonstrable knowledge.
Their agreement in rejecting theological dogmas by
no means helps them to unity of thought in party
politics, on questions of finance, on social problems,
or respecting the multitude of other questions, prac-
tical and speculative, which constantly present them-
selves for the consideration of the thinker and the
reformer.
In their religious views and attitudes even, liber-
als differ widely. Many have outgrown much of
their old belief, yet feel an indefinable reverence for
the Christian name, and derive satisfaction from the
thought that the book in which their fathers and
mothers believed through all the tribulations of life,
and found comfort in the solemn hour of death, is
inspired, at least, in a general sense and to a greater
extent than any other work. Others who utterly reject
Christianity, considered as an extra-human element
introduced into the life of the race, yet recognize it
as a great system that has been suited to man's con-
dition in the past, and that should now be inter-
preted with the most liberal construction, the name
being retained and made to stand for the highest
thought anil noblest work of the age, the grandeur
and glory of which the)' maintain is due, in no small
degree, to the powerful impulse received from the
character and teachings of Jesus. Others who
decline to be called Christians, yet concede to
Christianity, in common with Buddhism and other
religious systems, an important part in the growth
of civilization, and view it not with disdain, but as a
religion which, with all its imperfections, has per-
sisted because it has represented man's best thought
and aspiration, from which it grew as naturally as
the flower grows from the seed, the soil and the air.
To many liberals, however, ^Christianity appears an
unmitigated evil, a superstition, which, although it
had its origin in innocent ignorance, and credulity,
has been the greatest obstacle to human progress that
man has had to encounter. Others still, although
they belong to the class that the science of the age
is leaving far behind, regard Christianity as an impos-
ture, devised and designed by crafty men to enslave
the human mind, and to enable them to control it
in their own interests.
While some liberals have a firm belief in, and a
reverent regard for the name of God, and a strong
belief in a future life, others are unbelieving or
doubtful as to these doctrines. Many who have
rejected the authority of ancient revelations still
believe in modern revelations from the spiritual
world, and commune, as they think, with spirits
directly or through "mediums." Other liberals
regard spiritualism as a superstition worse than the
one its adherents claim to have outgrown. Some
liberals declare that the only real and perma-
nent reality is mind, of which matter is but a con-
ception or form of thought; others say that matter
is the only reality while mind is but one of its prop-
erties or modes. Others hold that both mind and
matter are phenomenal existences and manifesta-
tions of an ultimate reality, of which matter and
force are but symbolical representations. In con-
trast to these several monistic conceptions are held
dualistic theories, in which mind and matter are two
principles, co-eternal, but distinct.
While to most liberals the word religion is pleas-
ant to the ear and dear to the heart, since to them it
214
THE OPEN COURT.
stands for the highest in thought and endeavor, to
others who associate it with theological dogmas it is
offensive; and such say, with Hobbes, that the only
difference between religion and superstition is that
religion is superstition in fashion, while superstition
is religion out of fashion.
Liberals have arrived at the views they hold by
different methods and under widely different condi-
tions. One class has abandoned theological beliefs
in an atmosphere of religious bigotry and under
influences that have stimulated the critical and com-
bative tendencies. Their zeal and their methods
are very liable to be much like those of the theology
which the_\- imagine they have outgrown. Another
class is composed of persons who have parted with
their early religious beliefs amid influences in har-
mony with their feelings, who have but little, il any.
knowledge of Holbach, Voltaire Or Paine, who feel
no hostility to Christianity, which, indeed, they
would be glad to see reconciled with reason anil
common sense. In this class are included many
Unitarians, whose position results from lingering
feelings of attachment to a system which they have
intellectually outgrown. Another class of liberals
has never been much interested in religious subjects;
has never had any personal experience of the suffer-
ing involved in the conscientious rejection of religious
doctrines, once intensely believed, but is unbelieving
from a predisposition to skepticism, from intellectual
inability to accept unproved propositions and indif-
ference to questions of a speculative and unverifiable
character. Persons of this class are the least enthu-
siastic, the least aggressive and the least interested
in special liberal organizations.
Then among liberals are those of constructive
and destructive disposition — those who, even though
they agree on many points, have but little commu-
nity of thought or feeling in their work. Considered
simply as a protest against prevailing theological
beliefs, liberalism is necessarily iconoclastic, and
when men first perceive the error and folly of
dogmas in which they have been educated, without
comprehending the positive thought that must
replace the discarded doctrines, they are liable to
put undue emphasis on the destructive side of
thought, and to be unsympathetic in criticism, undis-
criminating in denial and intemperate in denuncia-
tion. Such may feel more interest in a work-
pointing out the defects of the Bible than in that of
the advanced liberal thinkers who are impressed
with the importance of positive constructive work in
the domain of science, history, art, and of politi-
cal and social as well as religious reform, and are
devoting their energies to their respective provinces
with splendid results.
Thus we see that the word liberal as commonly
used is applicable to a very large number of persons,
among whom there is the greatest difference as to
ability, attainments, aim and spirit and the greatest
diversity of belief. When representatives of
matured and scholarly thought find themselves
classed with all sorts of cranks and self-styled
"reformers" under the general name "liberals," and
find their names used in connection with the crudest
thought and often the wildest vagaries with which
they have not the slightest sympathy, it is but natural
that they should prefer to be known by some more
definite name, and encourage the use of words which
will make such distinctions as are necessary to a fair
understanding of the positions of all thinkers and
workers, thereby helping to remove that confusion
in the public mind which associates the best thought
of the age with all the fantasies, follies and fanaticism
that pass current under the name of liberalism.
With so much diversity among liberals it is not
strange that they have never united in a general
organization. Organizations on the broad plan of
the Free Religious Association, and of the Ethical
Culture Societies have done and are doing good
work, and they will continue to have earnest sup-
porters in the future; but let no one imagine that the
strength and value of liberalism are to be determined
by its capacity for organization. Progress is now, as
it has been in the past, along the line of existing bc-
liefsand institutions; and its results are seen in the con-
tinual modifications of the old rather than in special
creations of something new. They are observable in
the tone of the press, in the teachings of the pulpit, in
improved legislation, in the character of our general
literature, in the growing charity and tolerance, and,
above all, in the increasing intellectual freedom-
a condition which insures progress in every direction.
Without any great general organization, liberalism — all
that is worthy of perpetuation comprehended under
this name — is exerting everywhere, in the churches and
outside of them, a profound, multiplex and far-reach-
ing influence. Meanwhile all who are making direct
contributions to the world's thought, or are stimulat-
ing others to think', are furnishing material for a
great comprehensive system of philosophy, which,
as Professor Denslow says in one of his essays,
"will be too composite and heterogeneous to bear
the stamp of any one thinker in any special degree
of predominance over all others."
BLASPHEMY.
In the daily papers have been printed reports of
the trial for blasphemy of Charles B. Reynolds, an
ex-preacher of the Seventh-day Adventists, at Mor-
ristown, N.|J. The ground of [complaint was that
THE OPEN COURT.
215
Reynolds had circulated a pamphlet ridiculing Chris-
tian doctrines and containing a cartoon representing
himself as "Casting Pearls before Swine.'' He was
defended with ability and eloquence by Col. Inger-
soll, but was convicted and fined S25, with costs.
The law on which the indictment was based, is over
a hundred years old, and has, as Ingersoll says, "slept
like a venomous snake beneath the altar of liberty,"
this being the first blasphemy case ever tried in the
State. From descriptions of it given in the papers,
we infer that the pamphlet is coarse and of a char-
acter to reflect no credit upon its author, whose style
and methods seem to be much the same that they
were when he was a preacher; but on no just
grounds can either the conviction, or the law under
which the trial occurred, be defended.
Blasphemy is a fictitious offense, an imaginary
crime for which the honest and best men have been
subjected to imprisonment, torture and death.
It is still punishable in the most enlightened coun-
tries at both common law and statute law. In Eng-
land and in the United States are laws unrepealed
under which are men, every now and then, tried, con-
victed and sentenced for expressing disbelief in God,
in the Divinity of Christ, and in the superhuman origin
and character of the Bible. Of late years there has
been a disinclination in the secular courts to pro-
nounce such disbelief blasphemy, and a disposition
to make it consist rather in speaking, writing and
publishing profane words, vilifying or ridiculing God,
Jesus Christ, the Holy Ghost„the scriptures or the
Christian religion, in a way to bring it into con-
tempt. According to the latest English judicial
opinion, that of the Lord Chief Justice in the case of
Reg. vs. Foote, no opinion, however anti-Christian or
even atheistic, can any longer be regarded from a
legal point of view as blasphemous. The blasphemy
must consist in the manner in which the opinion is
expressed, not in the character of the opinion.
While this decision indicates progress, the law, as
thus interpreted, is still open to grave objections.
There are many whose opposition to popular religious
belief, although far less effective than that of John
Stuart Mill, George Eliot or Matthew Arnold, is just
as sincere, and whose language must necessarily be
more offensive to the rigidly orthodox. Why char-
acterize their expressions as blasphemous? So long
as theology teaches such absurdities as are in the
creeds of the churches, it need not expect to escape
being ridiculed more or less as people outgrow it.
Its defenders should consider as Conway says: "That
there are more muscles to draw the mouth up than
to draw it down, and that man's control of his risibles
has its limits." Did not the early Christians ridicule
the faith of the Pagans and kick over their idols?
Were not cartoons and caricatures freely used by the
Protestants against the Pope during the Reforma-
tion? True, we live in a better age, and coarseness
in the advocacy of opinions is not in harmony with the
best methods of the day, but let not the law impose
uponjthe discussion of Christianity any restraints which
are not imposed upon the discussion of other sub-
jects. Science asks no protection from ridicule;
none should be extended to Christianity. The law
in regard to blasphemy should be abolished alto-
gether. An expression of belief or unbelief should
not be punished because it is offensive to those whose
views are assailed. If men treat religious subjects
in a manner contrary to good taste and good judg-
ment, this offense can wisely be left to the condemna-
tion of public opinion. Let the State not interfere.
The cause of free religious inquiry in Scotland has
been greatly strengthened, as has already been noted in
this journal, by the bequest of the late Lord Gifford,
who has left ,£So,ooo to establish four Lectureships or
chairs of Natural Theology, one at each of the Scottish
universities. It is a striking illustration of the growing
liberality of thought in the church of Scotland, that
several of her most distinguished professors have of
late spoken in condemnation of the strict exclusion of
all theological teaching, other than orthodox, in the
universities. This splendid gift will secure the estab-
lishment and permanence of liberal religious teaching,
which without this impetus would probably have been
long deferred, since there is not as yet sufficient public
or State approval to insure its adequate support. The
conditions of the will require assent to no dogma or
theological test whatever. The lecturers are to be en-
tirely free to teach their own beliefs, whether they are
Christians or Agnostics, in short " of any religion or way
of thinking," the only requirement being that thev shall
be " reverent men, true thinkers, sincere lovers of and
earnest inquirers after truth." The subject will be
treated as a " natural science " and the lectures will be
open to all who may wish to attend, whether students
or not.
George J. Romanes writes on " The Mental Differ-
ences between Men and Women," in The Nineteenth
Century for May. He regards the difference of brain-
weight (which " is about five ounces") between the
average men and women, as evidence of greater in-
tellectuality in the former and finds it the result of
the evolutionary process in which man has gained the
advantage because of his constant leadership in the
affairs of life. In some other respects he looks upon
woman as the equal if not the superior of man, and
grants her the superiority in not a few. While he
insists that there are fundamental differences which
2l6
THK OPEN COURT.
do ami always will make man distinctly man and
woman woman, he holds that the question of infe-
riority will be forgotten, as it deserves to be, and
quotes Mrs. Fawcett, who says: "All we ask is, that
the social and legal status of woman should be such
as to foster, not to suppress, any gift for art, litera-
ture, learning, or goodness with which women may
be endowed." The result of this will be the develop-
ment of a constantly increasing measure of mentality
in woman, uplifting her till she is the perfect com-
plement of man.
* * *
Rev. W. Benham writes in The Fortnightly Review
for May administering a well-deserved rebuke to
Dean Burgon, whose article in a recent number criti-
cising Canon Fremantle, was bigoted and intolerant
in the extreme. Mr. Benham asserts that there are
large numbers of the clergy who no longer accept
the views of Dean Burgon, and to whom his " furious
onslaughts" in a style " which may be called noisy and
violent," are anything but convincing. The theory
of evolution which Dean Burgon calls " the weakest
of unphilosophical imaginations," is one which is rec-
ognized by the clergy as being strong reinforced by-
evidence and is being accepted by many of them
whole or in part. Thus Mr. Benham says, " The
Dean may be assured that the case has hopelessly
gone against him here," and "that he will soon be
left alone."
* * *
Of great interest to the antiquary is the discovery
of the mummy of Rameses II, the Pharaoh of the
Bible, during whose reign the Israelites are said to
have "sighed by reason of their bondage." The
tomb containing the mummy of the great king, as
well as of those of about forty other kings, queens
and princes, has long been known to a few of the na-
tives, but was kept a secret by them for pecuniary
reasons, until Ilerr Emil Brugsch Bey, curator of the
Bulaq Museum at Cairo, was guided to its entrance
by an Arab who had been led to betray his trust by a
liberal offer of "bakhshish." The royal mummies
were taken out and unrolled, whereupon abundant
evidence was found to show that they were indeed
those of the Egyptian "oppressor" and his ancestors.
They were soon taken to Cairo, where, incased in
tTiss, they may be seen at the Bulaq Museum.
* * #
The "Hydrophobia Bugbear "is the subject of an arti-
cle by Dr. Edward C. Spitzka in Hie Forum for April.
The results of careful investigation have led him to be-
lieve that a large majority of cases of so-called rabies
are spurious, the real trouble being that the persons bit-
ten become so wrought upon by fear that nervous disor-
ders of peculiar characters are the results. He adduces
cases of apparent hydrophobia produced by the bite of
dogs that were not mad, as their ultimate recovery
proved. He looks upon the institutes for the cure of
rabies as means of increasing the popular apprehension,
and consequently of developing a larger number of sup-
posed cases. Lastly, he declares that the symptoms that
are commonly assigned to rabies are fictitious; that it is
impossible for a dog to innoculate a man with a disposi-
tion to bark and run about on all fours, just as it is im-
possible for a man to innoculate a dog with the power
of speech and an upright gait, and demands that this
truth be at once inculcated in the public mind.
Apropos of the much debated term "Agnostic,"
Mrs. Julia Ward Howe, in a recent lecture given at
Parker Memorial Hall, Boston, Mass., on "The Igno-
rant Classes," said:
This is a subject we hear much about nowadays. I would
first ask, in relation to it, " Ignorant of what ?" All people are
ignorant in some respects. There is individual ignorance and
class ignorance. People of philosophical habits in these times call
themselves "agnostics," which, were it not for a former political
significance of the name, might be translated, "know nothings.'
Such people have in all ages kept in view the limitations of knowl-
edge, and the boundless extent and number of the things worthy
to be known ; they described themselves ignorant in view of the
immense disproportion between what they wish to know and
what they can know.
* * *
Matthew Arnold reviews the course of recent
British politics "Up to Easter," in The Nineteenth Cen-
tury for May. He finds anything but a satisfactory
past; Liberal politics having long been affected with
" half-heartedness," and not being "sanguine" about
their future, he favors the continuance in power of
the Conservative party, and asks, " Why, then, should
we be so very- eager to take up again with the 'taber-
nacle of Moloch,' Mr. Gladstone's old umbrella, or
the ' star of our god Rumphan,' the genial counte-
nance of Sir William Harcourt, merely in order to
pass forty- years in the wilderness of the Deceased
Wife's Sister?" If the government will quell anarchy
in Ireland, give her a sound plan of local govern-
ment and make the land laws just, he will support it,
and he believes that the British people will do the
same. * * *
The .Westminster Review, entering upon its sixty-
fourth year becomes a monthly, and issues an an-
nouncement of its purposes past and present. It has
been called "The Cradle of English Liberalism" and
was one of the first voices raised in favor of free
trade. It becomes a monthly publication in answer
to the demand for periodical literature which the
constantly increasing liberalism of the age is making.
♦ * *
I Iriginal contributions from the pen of Prof. F.
Max Midler, will soon be printed in The Open Court-
THE OPEN COURT.
217
COPE'S THEOLOGY OF EVOLUTION.
BY DR. EDMUND MONTGOMERY.
Part 11.
says himself, that "the knowledge of what is right and
the disposition to do right" are faculties that "have
been developed by use into the habit of so acting; and
If refutation and not elucidation were the object of the acts which men perform naturally follow the organ-
this criticism, we might leave Professor Cope's theo- ized character they possess." The moral nature of man
logical craft hopelessly wrecked among the psycho- as evinced in his social relations is an effect of "the mu-
physical breakers. Before having come within fair sight tual pressure each man causes toward his fellow men
of biology and evolution, the venturous sailor struck the with regard to his conduct toward him." (p..«0 It
most perilous reef in the wide sea of knowledge, where strictly follows, that the Deity, who has no " organized
so many goodly ships have stranded. The strait between character," and who docs not enter into social relations
Scilla and Charybdiswas not more fatal to ancient voya- must be totally devoid of morality.
gers, than the puzzle of mind and body proves to be to It is evident then, that the great Mind of the the-
modern philosophers. °Iogv of evolution, if it existed at all, would be mentally
The conclusions of the Theology of Evolution deficient, and a moral nonentity,
having been reached through biological studies from the Furthermore, if mind is a property of matter, as
evolutional standpoint, we will first show what strange Professor Cope maintains, and if, as he willingly con-
logical outcomes this mode of procedure involves, and cedes, just in proportion as matter becomes more highly
then we will endeavor to estimate the merits of Profes- organized, the mind connected with it becomes also
sor Cope's peculiar views of vitality and evolution, that
have seemed to him to warrant his theological specula-
tions. This biological examination will compel us to
give careful attention to the great problem of the rela-
tion of mind to organization.
Professor Cope's Deity or " great Mind," to whose
" active exercise of mentality " we are told " all evolu-
more highly developed, — what under these conditions
are our chances of immortality? An "inseparable
bond " binds us " forever to a material basis." The ma-
terial basis undergoes after death a rapid retrograde meta-
morphosis; it follows that the qualities or faculties of
our mind, which had entirely depended on high-wrought
vital organization, decay and dissolve at least as rapidly
tion is due," must — when rightly contemplated, — be as their material substratum. Our immortality would
deemed vastly inferior in all essential respects to the
"lesser minds" that are " a part or fragment of it." On
first consideration it may appear rather strange that
fragments should be so much superior to the whole from
which they are derived. But, then, we would naturally
suppose, or at least we would sincerely hope on moral
then consist of whatever mind is left in the scattered
elements of decomposition; the mind of water, carbonic
acid, ammonia, etc.
It must not be thought that the plain and rudiment-
ary remarks we have just been making were advanced
merely to divert ourselves at the expense of a Deity
grounds, that this active exercise of mentality on the who is the property of matter. We understand per-
part of the great Mind, to which evolution is due, is being fectly well how a philosophical naturalist and especially
exerted to some good or useful purpose. It would be- a biologist, finds himself utterly incapable of conceiving
token sheer insanity in the great Mind to amuse itself, mind, individual or general, floating about in vacancy
by most laboriously splitting its being into a number of attached to nothing. In exposing here the absurdities
lesser minds that were not an improvement upon its to which the conception of mind, independent of organi-
own undivided self. The great Mind is conceived as
connected with the wholly unorganized state of matter;
indeed as being the property of the primordial " unspe-
cialized " substratum, with which evolution starts. Now,
we all know, that in proportion as matter gains in sig-
zation, necessarily leads, we had in view not only the
special conception of the " great Mind " of the llie-
ology of Evolution, but the conception of any kind of
mind not connected with organized individuality.
No one can be more realistically aware of the de-
nificance and efficiency by the progressive evolution of pendence of mental evolution on organic evolution than
organic forms, the mind of these forms gains likewise in Professor Cope, who has studied so minutely and un-
significance and efficiency. This at least is what expe- derstandingly the correspondence obtaining between the
rience clearly proves. The scale of progressive evolu- progressive scale of life and that of mind, as traceable in
tion, in which organic forms are ranged, is also the scale the records of our planet. How, then, has so highly
of progressive mental evolution. The less advanced the distinguished a scientific observer and thinker ever
organization, the more inferior the mind. And as the come to indulge in such fantastic notions about the ob-
great Mind is the property of wholly unorganized mat- jects of theological faith .- The reason is not far to seek,
ter, it must necessarily be the most inferior of all minds. Just because Professor Cope is not a mere narrow spe-
And when it comes to the higher exhibitions of men- cialist, but is sympathetically alive to the great questions
tality, the Godhead lodging in primordial matter is left of our time; for this reason have his scientific researches
still more incommensurably behind. Professor Cope — however accurate and important in themselves
218
THE OPEN COURT.
conduced to yield to him answers also to those great open
questions, on which our ultimate hopes and fears are
pending. He himself says: " An occasional flight into
this region of thought at least brings the thinker into
sj mputhv with the thoughts of his fellowmen." (O. of
K, p. 420). We heartily approve of this sentiment and
willingly follow him in his larger quest, knowing well
that careful researches into the constitution of reality
furnish the right medium for such "occasional flights."
It is no longer from verbal traditions or conceptions
about the concerns of the world, it is from a scientific
insight into the world itself, that the rational mind is
expecting a solution of these supreme questions, — ques-
tions whose accepted answers have ever been molding
and will continue to mold, social conduct. To under-
stand our present philosophical and scientific position
toward them, we have to go back to the starting point
of modern science.
Descartes was the first to draw a sharp line between
a material world governed by mechanical necessity, and
a mental world deriving its ideal inspirations from God,
the ens rcalissiinum. Mechanical principles were soon
mathematically systematized and brought to bear on the
outer world with a success that initiated a new era in
human thought. The chaos of capricious occurrences
that had made up the previous conception of nature be-
came in this steady light an ordered universe, following
with never-failing constancy and precision the laws of
mechanical necessity. But now, more than ever, the
two disparate spheres, that of mind and that of matter,
seemed utterly incommensurable, the former originating
intuitively and at will its wide range of pliant figura-
tions, the latter proceeding undeviatingly through time
and space, rigorously compelled from moment to moment
by equivalent causation.
There remained, however, one domain of material
existence which refused to comply so readily with the
demands of mechanical science. To unsophisticated ob-
servers the body of living beings seemed to be formed
and actuated by forces not reducible to the mechanical
standard. Descartes himself — blinded by the recent dis-
covery of the circulation of the blood, which he believed
to be an entirely mechanical phenomenon — would not
admit such a distinction between organic and inorganic
nature. He simply and consistently declared all organisms
to be nothing but mechanical automata to which, in the
special case of the human organism, a thinking soul was
superadded. To subsequent observers, living organisms,
in which mind and body are so strangely blended, became
the hotly contested ground, for the possession of which
were struggling, on the one side the mechanical inter
pretation, on the other side the supernatural interpreta-
tion. And one must confess that it is in all reality, a try-
ing task to make out how far mechanical laws have here
sway, ainl how far other explanatory principles have to
be called in. One is forced to recognize that the organ-
ism is interposing a specific medium between the mutual
intercourse of the physical and the psychical order.
The modern world-conception had, then, three dis-
tinct spheres of manifest existence to harmonize, the
outer universe, the organism, and the mind. And it is
in this perplexing endeavor that we find ourselves still
busily engaged.
Kant, inspired by Newton, framed the nebular hy-
pothesis, accounting on mechanical principles for the
present disposition and motion of cosmical masses. Un-
der this point of view it became obvious that organic
beings must have been somehow evolved during the
development of our planet. Kant himself tried hard to
extend the mechanical interpretation to organic forms,
for he firmly believed that teleological considerations had
to be excluded from the science of the material world.
But he was too profound and conscientious a thinker not
to become convinced that the manifest teleological con-
stitution of organic forms and functions cannot possibly
be mechanically explained. He formulated a theory of
descent and gradual development much earlier than La-
marck and others, but found himself, even then, driven
to assume that our mother earth must have given birth
to primitive organisms which contained potentially the
generative drift of all succeeding evolutions of living
beings. This hypothetical endowment of our planet with
an all-efficient maternal fecundity was, however, little
in keeping with its avowed mechanical constitution.
Evidently, the origin and development of living beings
in the course of meclianical world-formation was as per-
plexing a question then as it is at the present day, des-
pite the specious discussions of the Synthetic Philoso-
phy. Mechanical evolution and organic evolution can-
not be made to blend harmoniously.
And, from another point of view, the fundamental
divisions of our modern world-conception refuse no less to
blend. For how is mechanical necessity to be reconciled
with volitional activity of a hyper-mechanical kind?
Kant, who examined our mental constitution more ex-
haustively than had ever been done before, discovered
nothing but necessity in its immediate interaction with
the outside world. Perception, as well as conception,
seemed to him strictly determined by arrangements not
allowing any free play on the part of our volition. Our
mental faculties he held to be competent to deal only
with the sensible world. And everything appertaining
to the sensible world was in his opinion governed by fixed
and unalterable conditions.
There was, however, still one outlet left for liberty
to assert itself. For, however complete the sway of
necessity may be in our world, it cannot be denied that
in our moral actions at least, we do not yield to it.
With a transcendent power of spontaneous or free causa-
tion, emanating from the depth of our being, we overcome
THE OPEN COURT.
219
mechanical compulsion and bend it to our higher
purpose. We impose on the insentient mechanism of
nature the moral injunctions recognized by reason.
Kant accounted for this enigmatical power of ours to
transfigure the physical nexus of perceptible things in
conformity with ideal conceptions; a power which he
erroneously restricted to purely moral doings, he
accounted for it, by making it flow into nature from a
supernatural sphere, where he believed our moral being
to have its veritable home.
This breaking through natural law from above and
within by strength of free volitional causation, sanc-
tioned thus by the leading thinker of the age, was soon
followed by a general revolt against physical necessity.
Spreading from Germany to France and eventually to
England and America, this philosophical re-assertion of
human spontaneity received additional impetus from
individual and social aspirations, roused by Rousseau,
the French revolution, and Shakespeare, and soon it
fused its own spirit of freedom together with that of
the renaissance and the reformation, into one impetuous
protest against the deadening fatalism of inflexible
causation and external compulsion.
To understand the enthusiasm which this move-
ment kindled and is still sustaining, a movement repre-
sented by Emerson in this country, by Coleridge and
Carlyle in England, by Cousin and Jeoffroy in France,
by Fichte, Schelling and Hegel in Germany. Fully to
understand this excessive outburst of mental exultation
we have to remember that Newton's method of inter-
preting physical phenomena had gained ascendency
also in the interpretation of mental phenomena. The
sensation-philosophy, which became victorious in
England and France, originated avowedly in the
attempt to explain mental occurrences according to
Newton's method. And even Kant declared his
researches into the constitution of the mind to be guided
by Newtonian principles. The prevailing philosophical
impression was, that mental phenomena are subject to a
causal enchainment as rigorously determined as that of
physical phenomena. In its extreme nihilistic form the
sensation-philosophy had reduced us and the world to a
congeries of elementary sensations, constituting through
gradually established habits of association a matterless,
soulless, Godless realm of phantasmal appearances.
This self-annihilating view of things was by no
means flattering to human pride, nor could it be any
more reconciled with the actual experience of volitional
spontaneity than the theological dogma of predestina-
tion. We cannot wonder, then, that those, who under
the influence of free-thought had liberated themselves
from the authority of biblical traditions, without becom-
ing converts to the scientific cretd, gave now eager
welcome to this rationalistic reassurance of individual
self-determination.
Meanwhile, natural science, within its own domain,
followed triumphantly its clearly defined course, explain-
ing physical occurrences by means of the agitation, ag-
gregation, or dispersion of masses through mechanically
imparted motion, and feeling baffled only when brought
face to face with the problems of vitality and organiza-
tion. Here, mechanical effectuation was more or less
clearly discerned to be incompetent to build up organic
forms and to infuse life into them. Thus, while physi-
cists in their special field of research had long ceased to
have recourse to supernatural aid, biologists felt still
compelled to invoke some kind of deus ex mackind, if
not always to explain vital phenomena, then at least to
account for the origin of living beings.
Linnaeus by a gigantic effort, had succeeded in bring-
ing order into the chaos of organic forms. This order,
by which naturalists now for the first time were enabled
to subdue to human comprehension a vast confusion of
morphological similarities and differences — was based on
the special creation and subsequent stability of every dis-
tinct species. And though in the course of time evolu-
tional ideas of various description came to haunt biologi-
cal science, serious investigators were naturally loath to
relinquish the principles underlying their well-systema-
tized knowledge, only to adopt some other insufficiently
supported theory. This feeling among biologists was
still paramount when Darwin's work on the Origin
of Species made its first appearance and turned for-
ever the tide in favor of gradual and progressive evolu-
tion.
The scientific persuasiveness of Darwin's view lay in
the demonstration of natural selection as a directing in-
fluence actually at woik during the struggle for exist-
ence; an influence eliminating less useful and preserving
more useful variations, so that the latter are enabled to
cumulate in the race. The occurrence of a profusion of
most manifold variations is presupposed in this evolu-
tional conception. But this was no serious hindrance in
the way of its acceptance, for the existence of frequent
variations from the scientifically fixed types had proved
too perplexing to professional systematizers to have been
overlooked. So soon, then, as natural selection was ad-
mitted to be a veritable cause furthering the cumulation
of varieties in specific directions, the entire domain of
organic forms became fluent to the mind's eye, and was
perceived to have been always plastic to this same mold-
ing influence. Geology, paleontology, comparative
anatomy, embryology, all chimed in to confirm this
newly acknowledged truth of gradual transformation
and to emphasize its progressive tendency.
It is a historical fact which can never be overturned,
that the adoption of the evolution-hypothesis on the part
of science, and the general spread of the evolutional
world-conception, have to be dated from Darwin and
from no one else.
220
THE OPEN COURT.
Mechanical biologists were not slow to make most
of this mode of organic development and adaptation,
effected seemingly by purely physical causes without
the help of any teleological principle. Some of us, how-
ever, knew at once that natural selection itself cannot
rightly be taken as the productive cause of organic evo-
lution. For, it is obvious that - an occurrence which
enables something to be preserved does nowise account
either for its production or for its actual mode of preser-
vation. Natural selection can only favor the preserva-
tion of what was brought into existence and is being pre-
served by other means. Yet, it must be admitted that
natural selection possesses a kind of shaping efficiency,
an efficiency remotely akin to that of the sculptor who
forms his statue by chiseling off chip after chip of use-
less material. Darwin had before him the results of
artificial selection, where the breeder by cumulating
varieties in intended directions, succeeds in transforming
organic shapes and functions to suit his purpose. In
natural selection the specific surroundings, by means of
which and against which organic life is carried on, con-
stitute a positive influence favoring those individuals that
happen through advantageous variations to be best
adapted to the given situation.
But how do advantageous variations come into exist-
ence? This, after all, is the cardinal problem of evolu-
tion. And it is the one to whose solution Professor
Cope is principally devoting his energies. Not the
survival of the fittest, but " The Origin of the Fittest."
What is the power that from within creates those
progressive modifications of structure and function
through which organisms become not only better adapt-
ed to the relations already subsisting between them and
their medium, but through which, moreover, entirely
new relations are originated, extending in additional
specific ways their sphere of interaction.
Here, in a more definite form than ever before, the
great strife between external mechanics and internal
spontaneity, the old, old strife between cosmical neces-
sity and individual liberty, is again forcing itself upon
our attention. A few years ago mechanism in the do-
main of organic life seemed to have it all its own way.
Now, in various guises spontaneity is beginning to re-
assert itself. The belief is gaining ground that a defi-
nite formative and evolutional power has inhered in
primitive forms of life, compelling — as in reproductive
germs— all succeeding developments. And the notion
that mental propensities in the form of wants and de-
sires are operative in shaping organic structure is like-
w ise coming to the front again. Both these ideas were
expressed by Lamarck, who said : "The vital power
would produce a continuously graduated scale of devel-
opment if the modifying influences of the medium were
not interfering." And: " Needs produce organs, habits
develop and strengthen them." The former idea we
find already by Kant, the latter by Diderot, who main-
tained that "organs produce needs, and that reciprocally,
needs produce organs."
It now devolves upon us to consider carefully the
special theories, by means of which Professor Cope and
other biologists endeavor to account for this supreme
fact of evolution, — the production of advantageous
variations.
CORRESPONDENCE.
DR. SAMUEL KNEELAND ON CREMATION.
To the Editors: Boston, May, 1887.
Dr. Samuel Kneeland recently read a paper before the Parker
Memorial Science Class on " Cremation, and other Methods of
Disposing of the Dead," an abstract of which, it is believed, will
interest the readers of The Open Court.
All nations the lecturer said appear to have believed in
a life after death, and have, according to their ideas of this
after-life, taken what they considered the very best measures
to secure to their deceased relatives the enjoyment of a heaven,
as far as funeral rites were concerned. Of the four principal
modes of mummification, aerial exposure, burning and interment,
he spoke at length only of the last two. He described the process
of mummification, as practiced by the Egyptians, and exhibited
photographs of the recently opened mummy of Rameses II, to
show that the natural forces of decay, though long arrested, will
at last prevail — perhaps to the great danger of the living. Thev
believed that, after 3,000 years, the dead awoke to immortal life
on earth; hence their devices to preserve their bodies. He alluded
to the drying processes used by the Guanches, and the exposure
by the Parsees of their dead to the beaks of vultures. Before
the Christian era both burial and burning were in use, though the
latter was the more ancient, it is mentioned by Homer, and was
occasionally employed by the early Romans, and also under the
Empire, and until Christianity in the fourth century had made
burial the rule. Among the Jews burial was the custom, but we
find that the bodies of Saul and his sons were recovered after the
battle against the Philistines, that they might be burned, as a
mark of special honor. In the fourth century, burning fell into
disuse, and since this inhumation has been the general custom.
Some have pretended that this, so-called Christian rite was due
largely to the idea that burning would interfere with the final
resurrection of the body, and some religious enthusiasts still make
this objection. When we reflect that, after all, it is only a more
or less rapid oxidation, whether we burn or whether we bury, and
that the result is the same, this objection seems frivolous; it cer-
tainly cannot be a matter of any theological importance whether
this is accomplished by slow and dangerous underground decom-
position or by the speedy safe agency of heat; the miracle of
re-creation of the body at any future day of judgment would in
either case be the same. Said the Bishop of Manchester, England,
in 18S0, at the dedication of a cemetery : " I hold that the earth was
made for the living, not for the dead. No intelligent faith can
suppose that any Christian doctrine can be affected by the manner
in which, or the time in which, this mortal body crumbles into
dust."
It has come now to be a recognized opinion among sanitrians
and philanthropists that earth burial is attended with an ever-
increasing danger in large populous communities. The abomina-
tion of burial in churches, once so common, has long been abol-
ished, except in very exceptional cases, as Nelson and Wellington
He adduced many instances to show how the soil of church-yards
THE OPEN COURT.
221
has been raised several feet by the accumulated remains of the
dead, and so saturated therewith that the water and the air in
their neighborhood were actually poisoned, and the cause of many
fatal epidemics. The amount of ground used for cemeteries,
which might be occupied for the support of the living, is very
great — not less than 4,000 acres in the immediate vicinity of New
York citv; according to reliable statistics, with the probable
increase of population in the next fifty years, there will be 500,-
000 acres devoted in the United States to earth burial. From this
point of view, grave-yards are desecrated rather than conse-
crated grounds. We cannot hope to have pure air, pure water,
or pure soil in the vicinity of grave-yards; the city of Philadel-
phia is most unfortunately situated in this respect, receiving into
the Schuylkill, above the dam, the drainage of not less than So,-
000 graves. Hundreds of cases, from Hannibal to the London
plague of iS^4 could be mentioned to prove the fatal effects of
disturbing old cemeteries; the so-called " Roman fever " is due
less to the miasmataof the marshes than to the emanations from a
soil saturated for centuries by the remains of millions of the
dead. Decomposition in the earth resolves the body less into
dust than into gases; the former is only four to five pounds of
lime salts, the latter escape into the air, or are absorbed by the
roots of plants to produce a useless fertility. Man, by his mode
of interment, contrives to prolong to the utmost the possibility
of poisoning earth, air and water. In the grave of six feet in
depth there is no access to the minute creatures which rapidly
destroy flesh on or near the surface; the devouring worm is a
myth, and chemical decomposition is what occurs; the microbes
do their share of the work of putrefaction near the surface and
in the earlv processes. There is, however, a way in which the
health of thickly settled communities can be protected against the
dangerous emanations from the bodies of those who die in our
midst, and at the same time fulfill all religious, sacred, loving and
tender duties to them, and that is by burning or "cremation."
Attention was prominently drawn to this process in 1S73, at the
Vienna Exposition, bv the results of scientific cremation exhibited
by Professor Brunetti; since then the progress of this reform has
been shown by the establishment of many crematories, especially
in Italy and Germany, and some half a dozen in this country,
bv treatises on the subject in all civilized languages, and the
springing up of hundreds of societies, one even in Boston; so
that this process, at first called barbarous and heathenish, is now
recognized bv most scientific physicians and thinking men and
women, as destined to supersede earth burial in populous com-
munities. It is a process of great scientific skill to reduce the
body bv the application of intense heat into its elements at once,
and without the flame coming into contact with it. The history
of cremation in this country is very brief. The first practical
movement was in New York in 1S74, in 1SS4 there were two
crematories in the United States, both in Pennsylvania; there are
now three others which have cremated to the present time about
250 bodies; in England there are three, in Italy twenty, and
several in Germany; in Italy at least 500 have been burned, and
in Germany, principally in Gotha, more than 250; there are also
hundreds of societies and a dormant one in Boston. He described
the process as performed in Gotha, Milan, Washington, Pa., and
Fresh Pond, L. I.; the oven is a fire-clay retort, of a special shape
such as is used in making gas and is heated to 1,500 to i,75odegrees
Fahrenheit. The time required is about one and one-half hours, and
the result is between four and five pounds of calcined bones which
readily fall into small fragments and ashes; there is neither odor
nor smoke, no fuel or flame comes into contact with the body, nor
is there any sight or sound to offend the most fastidious. The
objection that criminal practices might thus be masked is fully
met by the stringent laws by which such corporations are bound,
and which would rather prevent or detect murderous deeds.
This would save expense and vain show at funerals, without
interfering with any religious ceremonies and also much danger-
ous exposure at the grave in inclement weather. The expense,
both in Europe and this country, is from twenty-five to thirty
dollars, not half the cost of an ordinary casket; the aggregate
saving in the United States annually by cremation would amount
to many million dollars, which sum is not only thrown away, but
serves to perpetuate and extend a custom dangerous to the living.
Undertakers, at first, would object, but they would soon find some
way gracefully to yield, and get comfort and cash out of crema-
tion. Rich and poor would then be served alike, and the equality
of the dead — a few handsful of ashes — would be a verity. The
work of years is thus done in an hour — the horrors of the grave
are done away with — no robbery and mutilation of the dead can
occur. We may have in an urn all that is earthy of our relatives,
while the ethereal particles, set free by heat, dwell in the bright
sunlight and not in the dark, damp ground. Our prejudices,
sympathies and sentiments at first rebel against cremation,- but
as rational beings we should not allow our emotions to run away
with our reason, in a matter so important as this. The living
have the best right to live, irrespective of the dead, and to enjoy
that immunity from many diseases arising from foul air, impure
water and poisoned earth, which they are entitled to receive from
the progress of sanitary science. "God's acre" shall then cease
to be a plague spot, and the earth shall be the home and the sup-
port of life and not the bed of death.
GOOD AND BAD.
To the Editors :
Fully appreciating the well-defined merits of what has been
said in The Open Court relating to good and evil, I am still
impressed that these terms have each a positive and a relative
character.
As to good, in a moral sense, it must necessarily have a fixed,
and invariable standard, in which a vicious will can have no com-
panionship. This attitude alone would represent the positive ;
and the expression good, in its common usage, as applied to
material things, may embrace a countless number of varying
states and conditions; and, as a matter of course, would represent
the relative.
Now, as to the origin and basis of the positive, speculate as
we mav can we find its home anywhere outside of the order of
nature? It belongs to the fitness of things, to the harmonies
of the infinite parts of the inconceivably grand whole as they
go their perpetual round, and where else could this fitting
in of a sentient factor have been derived? It came as intelli-
gence came; but unlike the slow growth of intelligence through
the processes of evolution, it came out of the ages known only to
matter and form, to guide intelligence to happiest results, com-
plete and ever unchangeable. We say " it came," etc., in the
absence of a conception tending to any other deduction rationally
considered; not from the average will of man, surely.
That man is, in a varying and limited sense, endowed with an
independent will, no one will deny ; and, if we take proper
thought, it will readily appear that man unpossessed of this
faculty would be far less than what he is, and that the evolution
of sense would have been arrested by the default of nature, on the
verge of Completion. Not a supposable case!
It is religiously expressed or implied, that the Decalogue —
the story of its origin not taken into consideration — embraces the
sum and substance of all moral law. This is wide of the truth!
For example: Are the endless evils which are every where arising
out of social and political states, in a general way fostered and
condoned, less inimical to morality, less chargable to individual
responsibility, than are the offenses named in the Decalogue? If
one is constrained to say no; why, then, should the religious
world pass them by?
222
THE OPEN COURT.
We hold to personal responsibility for departures from moral
law by the same rule which effects to govern the decisions of
ciyic courts, viz: the degree of volition, hereditary bias, etc., as we
are compelled to regard man, in large part, as a being subjective
in the matter of character to his surrounding conditions, and to
ancestral impress.
It needs but a few words to illustrate relative good. It is
enough to say, that morality is not specially embraced in its
application. It can only comprehend that which may give rational
satisfaction to the individual and the public, in matters public and
private. C. K. D.
~THE* MONTANA INDUSTRIAL SCHOOL FOR
INDIANS.
To the Editors : Boston, Mass., May, 18S7.
This school, recently established under the auspices of the
American Unitarian Association, in charge of Rev. Henry F.
Bond, is now in operation. More than half its present quota of
thirty pupils are enrolled, and the rest will doubtless enter as soon
as roads in the Crow reservation are passable.
This is what Rev. J. B. Harrison, who has recently visited it,
terms "the one lone lorn Indian Mission School of the Unitarian
denomination." Now that the Dawes Law in Severalty, and Indian
Citizenship Bill is the law of the land, it is incumbent on every
friend of the Indian and every good citizen to aid in fitting him for
the proper exercise of the rights with which he has been clothed.
It is a work that appeals alike to all of the liberal faith, to what-
ever wing they may belong, and on which we can stand shoulder
to shoulder with good men of every denomination and every
shade of religious belief. Our appeal in behalf ot the Montana
school is made only to those of what are called the liberals, simply
because the "evangelical" or "orthodox" churches have for
years been at large outlay in maintaining Indian schools on the
reservations; while we, for reasons which have been already set
forth, have been idle. The work has at last been begun, and we
ask for it the sympathy and support of all good men or women,
who have not already identified themselves with some other In-
dian educational work. Our earnest and faithful missionaries,
Rev. and Mrs. Henry F. Bond, and Miss May Crosby, who have
heroically undertaken this pioneer work, should be cheered and
encouraged by our sympathy and support. Funds are needed for
the more complete equipment of the school, and for the support
of the superintendent and his employes. The debt on the build-
ing and outfit is about half paid. Fifteen hundred dollars are yet
due, for which we ask contributions. Boys' clothing is greatly
needed, and gifts of new or worn garments for boys from eight to
eighteen year-, or of material from which to make them, are asked
lor. The Crow Indians have never had any missionary or educa-
tional work done among them, with the exception of a small gov-
ernment school at the agency. The tribe numbers about 3,500, of
whom Soo are children of school age. They are naturally wild
and debased, but are docile, and not inclined to intemperance.
They are honestly endeavoring to obey the injunctions of their
Gnat Father at Washington, and are selecting their allotments
and building houses upon them. The government has sent out
farmers to live among them, to show them how to cultivate the
ground, how to build houses, and how to live in them in a civil-
ized way. They have always been the friends and allies of the
whites, and ready to take up arms against any tribe at war with
the United States, even though they were their life-long friends.
For this reason they have been hitherto neglected by the mission-
ary bodies, who devoted themselves to the conversion of the tribes
from whom the whites had most to fear. This unjust neglect ol
our steadfast friends should now be put an end to, and every effort
should be made to educate and civilize them. It is a work requir-
ing heroic self-sacrifice, zeal, and patience for its successful
plishment, and the liberal and cordial aid'of all its friends.
Shall not our faithful workers have the cheering assurance of our
cordial sympathy and support in their great undertaking?
Contributions may be sent to me at No. 25 Beacon St., Boston.
J. F. B. Marshall.
THE TOBACCO NUISANCE.
To the Editors:
Just now as I took up The Open Court of March 17, my
eye rested upon an article entitled " The Rights of those who
Dislike Tobacco." This is a class to which I belong, and I at once
read the article to which I give my hearty indorsement, having
recently been a victim to the monstrous selfishness of smokers.
The fatigue and annoyances of travel are much lessened by the
delightful cars offered to the public for a certain price; but the
comfort of both men and women is outraged to a degree not to be
tolerated, by the indifference of railroad officials to the unpardon-
able conduct of men who indulge in smoking without regard to
the effect upon others. This annoyance which is distressing
enough in the Pullman cars is increased in the Mann Boudoir
which by their compartment system offer the much needed seclu-
sion and rest to the weary traveler; the omnipresent smoker
because he is hidden from view, either imagines the odor will not
penetrate farther than his apartment, or is quite indifferent as to
whether it does or not, so that he is unmolested in his enjoyment.
The air passes freely through the wicker-fashioned ventilators
and is unobstructed in permeating every portion of the car. It
dries and parches the throat and nostrils of those who have not
rendered insensible the lining membrane of these organs by use
of the vile weed, nausea is produced, and the otherwise pleasant
journey is rendered miserable. As the writer of the article
referred to, very truly says, we pay as much for our seats as the ■
smokers pay for theirs, and we are entitled to the comfort the car
affords. There ought not to be a smoking-room in any way con-
nected with the parlor cars or sleepers. The smoking car should
be an entirely separate coach, and strict laws ought to be enforced
in regard to smoking on the train in any other car than the one
provided for that purpose. This is all that any man could ask,
for even under this arrangement he pays for one seat and gets
two, and the cost of running the smoker must be partly paid by
those who have no need of it. Men who smoke ought to suffer
whatever discomfort there may be connected with it instead of
those who are not addicted to the habit. Last summer during a
trip down Lake Champlain something occurred which is in point
while on the subject of tobacco. The day was a perfect one in
July, a soft breeze stirred the beautiful blue water into ripples;
the verdure as we passed along the Vermont shores was illustra-
tive of the name; the mountains in the distance on either side
made the scene very picturesque. We seated ourselves on the
forward part of the beautiful steamer Vermont, which plies these
waters, and a quiet happiness diffused itself over us as we gazed
upon the charming landscapes presented to our view, when we
were unexpectedly brought to realize that even this ambrosial
atmosphere was not without the fumes of tobacco, and the inevit-
able vile man was also here "where every prospect pleases," for
well up toward the bow of the steamer, sat an immense animal,
gross and repulsive, smoking a cigar, the wreaths of abominably
scented vapor floating back over all seated in that part of the
boat, and worse than this on the floor at his side was a large soup-
plate into which he injected his surplus saliva until it was half
full, a loathsome and nauseating sight. Conduct such as this
was to be looked for only in the lowest kind of saloon and yet
among respectable refined people he went on with his disgusting
programme unchecked by proper authority until he had finished
his third cigar, and then stopped not because he was compelled,
but because he had satisfied his vitiated desires, in his supreme
selfishness not thinking or caring whether others were annoyed
THE OPEN COURT.
223
or not. Railroad and navigation companies ought to demand at
least decent conduct, that those of their passengers who are well
disposed and orderly, may not be annoyed by boors.
In a recent trip South, riding from Chattanooga to Birming-
ham, Alabama, in a Mann Boudoir car, a lady was subjected to
annovance bv the boisterous conduct of a party of politicians from
the capital of a prominent State, who were going on an excursion
to New Orleans. They smoked and drank until they were merry
and noisv, and sang in a roaring tone songs of no very choice
selection. Then some of them strolled through the car looking
inquisitively into every compartment, after which followed more
smoking and drinking and noisy demonstrations, vulgar remarks
and generally objectionable conduct, with nobody to interfere,
though even the porters were disgusted. True, their smoking and
singing were done in the smoking-room, but the fumes and the
noise were scarcely less disturbing than if indulged in in any-
other part of the car.
The parlor car and the sleepers will speedily become no more
desirable than the day coach if beastly men are permitted therein
to give free rein to their depraved inclinations. In using the word
beastly, I do not refer thereby to the conduct of our domestic
animals, for they are far less objectionable in their behavior than
these men, but I mean an ogre, a frightfully misshapen and
hideously featured creature, such as live in the goblin stories of
old, for no matter how well dressed these men may be, their
selfishness has rendered them moral monsters.
I trust those who are annoyed in traveling by men of base
instincts, utterly regardless of good manners, may send in their
complaints, until the companies who provide means of convey-
ance for the public will do something to abate the nuisance, to
cause those who are disposed to make others uncomfortable, to
refrain through fear of the stringency of the law.
Caroline M. Everhard.
BOOK REVIEWS.
Histoire Religieuse du Feu. Cotnte Goblet d'Alviella. Biblio-
theque Gilon: Verviers, 1SS7. pp. 109.
Introduction a l'Histoire Generale des Religions.
Comte Goblet d'Alviella. Leroux: Paris, 1SS7. pp.185.
The author of these volumes, and also of an extremely inter-
esting account of the movements to liberalize religion now flour-
ishing in the United States, England and India, is at present pro-
fessor at the University of Brussels. His pamphlet, telling what
use has been made of fire in various ages and lands to express and
excite devotional feeling, is very valuable as showing not only
how much all the religions have in common, but how closely their
peculiar differences depend upon the state of human knowledge
of natural phenomena. One curious circumstance is the simi-
larity of the name of Prometheus to that of an instrument for
producing fire by friction, still in use in India where it is called
•' pramantha." The various legends that fire was not known upon
earth until it was stolen from heaven, certainly justify belief that
the first men had to live without it. We are glad to see that these
essays have had two editions since their original publication in
the Revue tie Belgique.
The neatly bound volume containing the lectures on the
origin and primitive forms of religion delivered by the Professor
two years ago, was published just before the discontinuance of
The Index, in which it could therefore be noticed only briefly and
inadequately. The introductory lecture states the theological and
other prejudices which make it impossible, as a general thing, for
a man to study any religion but his own, and often put it out of
the question to study even that. This important part of the
course is printed as delivered, and is supported by an appendix
making a very strong plea for introducing the comparative analy-
sis of religions into collegiate education. Perhaps monev might
as well be spent in endowing lectures thereon in our American
universities, as in founding a new one, more strictly in the interest
of Free-Thought. Most of the volume is taken up with very
suggestive summaries, showing hpw the primitive men at first
worshiped mountains, trees, animals, lightning, fire, the sun,
etc., gradually came to adore the souls of the dead, expressed their
feelings in various prayers, conjurations and ceremonies, and
became subject to priests and sorcerers. Despite the mischief
done by these latter, great service was rendered to morality,
according to Professor d'Alviella, by these primitive religions.
They may have been badly needed in order to repress savage
passions and maintain social order, and at all events they were
much less intolerant than their famous successors have been,
with the single exception of Buddhism. The whole subject of the
relations of morality and religion is so important that Count
d'Alviella will, it is earnestly hoped, make it a special study, as he
takes up one group of religions after another, so that he may com-
bine all his results on this point. It is pleasant to hear that he
disposed during the winter of 1S85-6 of the Chinese, Mexican and
Peruvian religions, that he took up the Egyptians last fall, that
next winter wili be devoted to Judaism, and that he will pass from
the Semitic to the Aryan forms of faith and worship. Everyone
who reads the results of his studies already published will wel-
come eagerly whatever else he may consent to print. Such books
deserve peculiar praise from all who advocate "the scientific
study of religion." F. M. H.
Last Evening with Allston, and other Papers. By Eliza-
beth P. Peabody. Boston : D. Lothrop & Co.
This collection of interesting essays may be regarded as
gathered sheaves from a harvest of many years of helpful pur-
suits, constant intellectual activity and generous aspirations. It
has been the special distinction of its author to live a life of high
ideals, and to enjoy a large number of friendships and intimaces
with men and women of rare intelligence and character. The
volume comprises sixteen distinct papers, without counting a
poem at the -end of the series and an appendix, upon diverse
themes; most of them gleaned from various periodicals in which
they originally appeared. The earliest date of these productions is
1S30. The others follow at irregular intervals during a period
which falls but little short of half a century. All of them evince
that they have proceeded from a mind of exceptional scholarship
and culture, philanthropic spirit and deep moral and religious
sensibility. While there are numerous topics touched upon in
the course of these essays the leading sentiments which come into
play all through them are the artistic, the philanthropic and the
religious. The latter especially pervades and influences all the
discussions, even those which else would be purely literary. If
one looks for the sharp and clear definitions, and logical methods
of modern science and inductive reasoning in the volume before
us he will be likely to find them wanting, but may be reconciled
to the deficiency by the special excellence and interest which it
still possesses. It must be conceded that it is notable at least for
the indications that appear of a very thorough and varied erudi-
tion, a power of copious and delicate expression, extraordinary
imagination, tinged somewhat with mysticism, and pure and
elevated feeling.
Although the author has long been accustomed to count her-
self among the liberal and progressive, it is not strange that much
of the contents of her book should seem to voice a stage of the
advance which is now considerably, if not altogether, superseded.
This is but what might be expected in view of the length of time
that has intervened since much of it was written. It however,
224
THE OPEN COURT.
serves thus as a sort of chronicle of passing events and phases of
development, particularly of those of the transcendental transi-
tion, which tend, through the influence of later questions and
tendencies of thought, to be forgotten.
The first paper, " Last Evening with Allston," from which
the volume takes its title in part, is a report ol an evening passed
in the company of the great artist, near the close of his life, in
conversation upon religious themes. This is followed by a paper
upon the " Life and Genius of Allston," and also by one upon
an exhibition of his paintings. These articles afford a glimpse of
Allston's mental character and his work. The next in order to
these papers is entitled " A Vision," and is a remarkable piece of
imagination writing. " The Dorian Measure " is one of the
longest and most scholarly discussions in the book. It is based
upon K. O. Miiller's History of the Dorians, a work whose con-
clusions are not as readily accepted as they were when it made its
appearance. Among the other subjects considered are Language,
Primeval Man, Fourierism, Brook Farm or Christ's Idea of Society,
A Plea for Froebel's Kindergarten, a branch of elementary intel-
lectual training to which Miss Peabody has long been zealously
devoted. These are all treated in a manner that is at once inge-
nious and suggestive, and with the remaining articles render it a
book of exceptional interest among the recent issues of the press.
D. II. C.
Lai re, and other Poems. By J(". Stewart Ross. London:
W. Stewart & Co., 41 Farringdon street, E. C. ; pp. 96.
Price, 2 shillings.
This new volume by the editor of the London Secular Review
consists of a score of minor poems in addition to the longer one
with which the volume opens, and from which it takes its title.
Mr. Ross, as we have before had occasion to say in a notice of his
earlier book of poems, I, ays of Romance and Chivalry, has
decided poetic ability, and his muse seems to inspire him with a
certain fantastic and weird imagery which may remind his Ameri-
can readers of Edgar A. Poe, — not in its rhythm or subjects, but
in its passionate utterances and romantic exaggeration. Love,
war and death are the prevailing topics of which he treats, but
we think he shows to greater advantage when he leaves these
well-worn grooves, as in the philosophic poem, " Reveresco," and
that on Robert Burns, which gained the prize offered by the
Dumfries Burns' Statue Committee for the best poem to be read
at the unveiling of this poet's statue in his own home. From the
latter we quote a few specimen lines:
" The brave man whose fight is fought,
Whose weapon's sheathed, whose banner's furled,
Though still his fire and force of soul
Throb in the veins of half the world.
Australia loves him; India, too,
As though he had but died yestreen;
Columbia knows the Hanks U' Doon,
And Afric sings of Bonnie Jean!"
The latest number (May, 1887) of the Revue Philosophique,
the editorial management of which is so ably directed by Th. Ribot,
contains articles of great value on psychological and other
subjects. Its summary is: 1. L'anesthesie Systematise^ et la
Dissociation des Phenomenes Psychologiques, by Pierre Janet.
2. L'intensite des images mentales, by A. Binet. 3. The con-
clusion of an essay: Le Phenomenisme et le Probabilisme dans
L'ecole Platonicienne, by F. Picavet. Beside other interesting
reading matter contained in this number, Mr. Beaussire discusses
the instruction of Natural Law given at the College de France.
The most interesting essay to us is Mr. Binet's on the in-
tensity of mental images. Binet says: "The world 0/ images
which everyone of us carries in his brain, has its laws as has the
material world which surrounds us. These laws are analogous
to the laws of organic matter, for the images are living elements,
which are born, are transformed and die."
Mr. Binet limits his essay to the intensity of such images.
Analogous to physiological processes intensity is accompanied by
" a disintegration of a greater quantity of nerve matter and a more
considerable production, of heat. * * * We must become
familiar with the idea that an image can pass through the same
degrees of intensity as a muscular contraction."
"The quality of intensify is generally and practicallv neg-
lected, for what we search for in images is a quality quite different
from and independent of this first quality, viz., truth. But truth
is nothing without intensity. If two arguments are different in
strength, the stronger one will conquer whether it be true or
false. One does not speak of truth in mechanics. There are
only forces which work. It is the same in psychology; all dis-
cussion, all deliberation is at the bottom a problem of cinematics.
When studying the intensity of images, we study in realitv the
method on which are based our true and false convictions."
In proving this, Mr. Binet makes an excellent use of the facts
of hvpnotism, the study of which he has made a speciality. P C.
Mrs. Lamb's Magazine of American History is always brightly
tempting in its useful line, but the article in the May number on
'The White House and Its Memories," written by the editor and
embellished with fine portraits of the ladies that have presided at
the Presidential residence, — a strikingly lovely one of Mrs. Grover
Cleveland leading the van in the frontispiece, and one of Miss
Rose Elizabeth Cleveland finishing the line, — makes that number
especially attractive. Among other topics of interest treated we
note "Republicanism in Spanish America," by Hon. W. L.
Scraggs; "The Wabash Country Prior to 1S00," by Isaac R.
Strouse, and "Canada During the Victorian Era," by J. G.
Bouriuot.
ADDITIONAL PRESS NOTICES.
It is full of meat, full of good thought and well worth a man's attention,
time to read it, and the price of the journal. — Indiana Saturday Herald.
The deepest and broadest thinkers are contributors to The Open Court,
published at Chicago. It is undoubtedly the best publication of the kind
printed. — Narraganset Times, Wakefield, R. I.
We have received a copy of The Open Court, a semi-monthly paper pub-
lished in Chicago, by B. F. Underwood and Sara A. Underwood, on ethics
and religion upon a scientific basis. — Knoxville (Pa.) Item.
It claims to be devoted to the work of establishing "ethics and religion
upon a scientific basis." It is ably edited and nicely printed, and the articles
are written, in the main, by acknowledged scholars. — Kansas Blade.
The Open Court, a fortnightly journal, just started in Chicago, is the
best thing of the kind we have seen. Its articles are well prepared and
the mechanical execution is perfect. — Tri- Weekly Pioneer, Michigan.
The Open Court is on our table. It is a fortnightly journal devoted to
the work of establishing ethics and religion upon a scientific basis. The jour-
nal is exceedingly attractive in form and typography, and the articles able and
brilliant. — The Smelter, Pittsburgh, Kan. •
The Open Court. — It has a corps of able contributors who present a great
variety of liberal thought, some of it bordering upon transcendentalism, but
very much of it that is both instructive and entertaining to minds of average
capacity.' — : Lockport (N. Y.) Daily Union.
We call attention to the advertisement of The Open Court, a high class
literary and philosophic journal published at Chicago. It is a remarkably
brilliant and original paper, and its editors and contributors rank high in the
intellectual world. — The Universe, San Francisco, Cal.
The Open Court is the title of a fortnightly journal published in Chicago
and "Devoted to the Work of Establishing Ethics and Religion upon a Scientific
Basis," rather hard sounding as an undertaking, but really made easy by a
simple exemplification of the subjects chosen for discussion. — Daily Expositor,
Branttbrd, Ont.
The publication of a most excellent paper called The Open Court, was
recently commenced in Chicago. It is a fortnightly journal, devoted to the
work of establishing ethics and religion upon a scientific basis, and is edited
by B. F. Underwood, an assurance of itself that the paper is worthy the pat-
ronage of educated, thinking people. Among its contributors are Moncure
D. Conway, F"elix L. Oswald, Rev. M. .J. Savage, John Burroughs, Lewis
G.Janes and a host of other authors of well-established reputations. — Sunday
Courier, Greenville, O.
The Open Court.
A Fortnightly Journal,
Devoted to the Work of Establishing Ethics and Religion Upon a Scientific Basis.
Vol. I. No. 9.
CHICAGO, JUNE 9, 18S7.
I Three Dollars per Year.
1 Single Copies, 15 rts.
[The readers of The Open Court will he pleased
to know that among the contributions it has obtained
from eminent scholars and thinkers, is the series of lec-
tures by Prof. F. Max Midler, given last March at the
Royal Institution, London. The publication of these
remarkable lectures in this journal, beginning with the
present issue, will be completed in six numbers. The
first has now appeared in the Fortnightly Review, but
not many of our readers can yet have read it. The sec-
ond, on " The Identity of Language and Thought " and
the third, on the " Simplicity of Thought," not published
nor to be published in England, have been secured
exclusively for The Open Court, in which they will
be printed from the author's manuscript. This distin-
guished philologist believes that language is the history
of human thought, and no other man living probably is
as competent as he to read this history understandingly,
especially those pages which indicate how men reasoned
and what they thought during the world's intellectual
childhood.]
THE SIMPLICITY OF LANGUAGE.
One of thkee Lectures on the Science of Thought delivered at
the Royal Institution, London, March, 1S7S.*
BY PROF. F. MAX MliLlER.
Part I.
It is more than a quarter of a century since I ven-
tured for the first time (June, 1S61), to address the
members of the Royal Institution, and I well remember
the feeling of fear and trembling that came over me
when in this very place I began to deliver my first lec-
ture on the Science of Language, as one of the physi-
cal sciences. I was young then, and to find myself face
to face with such an audience as this Institutii n always
attracts, was indeed a severe trial. As I looked round
to see who was present, I met in one place the keen
dark eyes of Faraday, in another the massive face of the
Bishop of St. David's, in another the kind and thought-
ful features of Frederick Maurice, while I was cheered
with a look of recognition and encouragement from dear
Stanley. I could mention several more names, " men,
take them all in all, we shall not look upon their like
again." To address such an audience on a subject that
Copyright 18S7 by the Open Court Publishing Co.
could never be popular, and without any of those charm-
ing experiments which enliven the discourses of most lec-
turers in this room, was an ordeal indeed. But painful
as the ordeal was, I do not regret having passed through
it. Many of my most valued friendships date from that
time, and though in advocating a new cause and run-
ning full tilt against many time-honored prejudices, one
cannot always avoid making enemies also, yet I feel that
I owe a large debt of gratitude to this Institution, and
not to my kind friends only, but likewise to my honest
opponents.
It is hardly remembered now that before the time
when I boldly claimed a place among the physical sci-
ences for what I called the Science of Language, Com-
parative Philology was treated only as a kind of ap-
pendix to classical scholarship, and that even that place
was grudged to it by some of the most eminent students
of Greek and Latin. No doubt, the works of Bopp,
Grimm, Pott, Benfey, Curtius, Schleicher, had at that
time attracted attention in England, and the labors of
such scholars as Donaldson, Latham, Garret and others,
could well claim a place by their side for originality,
honesty of purpose and clearness of sight. But there is
a difference between Comparative Philology and what
I meant by the Science of Language. Comparative
Philology is the means, the Science of Language is the
end.
We must begin with a careful analytical and compara-
tive study of languages; we must serve our apprentice-
ship as phoneticians, etymologists and grammarians,
before we can venture to go beyond. In this respect I
am as great a pedant as ever, and shall rather continue
to be taunted as such than abate one iota from my im-
plicit faith in phonetic laws. What I said years ago in
my lectures on the Science of Language, that phonetics
must form the foundation of Comparative Philology,
and that the laws which determine the changes of vow-
els and consonants are as unchangeable as the laws which
regulate the circulation of our blood, may have been a
little exaggerated, but in this respect exaggeration is de-
cidedly better than the smallest concession. I also hold
still to another heresy of mine, for which I ha e been
much abused, namely that a knowledge of Sanskrit is a
sine qud non for every comparative philologist, whether
his special subject be Aryan, Semitic, or Turanian phi-
lology. I know it has been the fashion of late to cry
2l6
THE OPEN COURT.
down the importance or Sanskrit, because it does not
supply the key to all secrets, and because in some, nay,
in many cases, Sanskrit is less primitive than Greek, or
Irish, or Gothic. This is a capital lesson to learn, and
may, I hope, put an end at last to the false position
which Sanskrit still occupies in the eyes of certain
scholars, as the fountain head of all Aryan speech. But
with all this, Sanskrit will always maintain its preemi-
nence, as affording the best discipline to the student of
language; and we have only to compare the works ot
those who have mastered Sanskrit, and of those who
have not, whether the}' treat of Greek, or J atin, or Ar-
menian, or Albanian, in order to perceive tl 2 immense
difference between the scholar who sails with a safe com-
pass and the bold adventurer who trusts to the stars.
Comparative Philology is a delightful subject, and
the more it is cultivated the more fascinating it becomes,
by the very minuteness of the laws and rules which gov-
ern its proceedings. There is enough in it to absorb a
man's whole mind, enough to occupy a whole life. But
for all that, we must not forget that the study of lan-
guages has an object beyond itself, a wider purpose, a
higher aim.
And what is that higher purpose which the Science
of Language is meant to serve? It is to discover the
secrets of thought in the labyrinth of language, after the
dark chambers of that labyrinth have first been lighted
up by the torch of Comparative Philology. If there
are any here present who attended my former courses
on the Science of Language, delivered in this Institu-
tion, they will remember how often I appealed to the
philosophers, whether logicians, physiologists, or meta-
physicians, inviting them to a study of language which,
like the thread of Ariadne, would lead them safely
through the intricate passages of the human mind,
through wlvch they had been groping their way for so
many centuries, without ever meeting the monster which
they meant to slay. In my lectures on Comparative My-
thology, in particular, I tried to show the irresistible in-
fluence which language, in its growth and decay, has exer-
cised on thought, not only in what is commonly called my-
thology, the stories of gods and heroes, but in every
sphere of knowledge, call it religion, philosophy, science,
or anything else. We may do what we like, our
thoughts are always hide-bound in language, and it is
this inevitable phase of thought and language, inevitable
in every branch of knowledge, which I meant by My-
thology, using that word in a far wider sense than had
ever before been assigned to it. In order to make my
meaning quite clear, and to provoke, if possible, contra-
diction, that is independent thought, I called mythology
a disease of language, though adding at the same time
that it was to be considered as an infantine disease, as a
natural crisis through which our intellectual constitution
must pass in order to maintain its health and vio-or.
Now it is curious that those who expressed their agree-
ment with me that mythology, including metaphysics,
might indeed be considered as a disease of language, did
not ask themselves what in that case the health of lan-
guage would mean. Right language is right thought,
and right thought is right language; and if we want to
understand, not only the disease, but the health also of
our thought, that is to say, the whole life of our thought,
we can study it nowhere more efficiently than in the
pathology of language.
V- The Science of Language, therefore, was to me at
all time but a means to an end — a telescope to watch the
heavenly movements of our thoughts, a microscope to
discover the primary cells of our concepts. I have
waited for many years, hoping that some one better
qualified than myself might lay hold of the materials
collected by the comparative philologists, and build with
them a new system of philosophy. Everything was
ready — the ore was there, it had only to be coined. But
whether philosophers mistrusted the ore, or whether
they preferred to speculate with their time- honored
tokens rather than with the genuine metal, certain it is
that, with few exceptions, no philosopher by profession
has as yet utilized the new facts which the Science of
Language has placed at his free disposal.
I know the answer that will be made. The results
of the Science of Language, it has often been said, are
as yet so unsettled. They vary from year to year, and
the best authorities in Germany, France and England, to
say nothing of America, differ toto ccelo from each other
on some of the most fundamental principles. Some
hold that, like the law of gravitation, the laws which
govern the growth and dec. y of language admit of no
exceptions; others hold, on the ccntrarv, that disturb-
ances in the regular courses of words may here, lead to
the discovery of an unsuspected Neptune. Dialects, ac-
cording to some, are the descendants of one uniform lan-
guage; according to others they are the feeders of the
classical languages, and exist not only before a common
literary language can be framed, but continue to influ-
ence its later development by constant intercommunion.
Dialect, in fact, has become the general name for the
centrifugal tendencies of language, whether originating
in individuals, families, villages, towns, or provinces, as
opposed to the centripetal power of analogy, repre-
sented by the sway which, whether for good or for evil,
majorities always exercise over minorities. But even on
minor points there have been most sanguinary battles
between hostile camps of comparative philologists.
Whether the original Aryan language possessed one
short a only, like Sanskrit, or whether the a was
already, before the separation of the Aryan family, differ-
entiated into «, c, o, has been treated as a matter of life
and death; and I do not deny that in the eyes of the
true scholar it is a matter of life and death. But it does
THE OPEN COURT.
227
not follow that because Curtius hesitated on this point
he therefore deserves all the ignominious epithets that
have been showered upon his head. Among scholars
by profession all this is understood. Curtius holds, and
will hold, his place of honor in the history of Compara-
tive Philology in spite of all that has of late, been writ-
ten against him, and no one will be more ready to admit
this, I believe, than Brugmann, OsthofFand others, who
have attacked him so fiercely. I am sorry for rude and
ungracious language at all times, but I do not mind an
honest fight. What I object to is, if critics, who are too
lazy to form an opinion for themselves, amuse them-
selves, and think they can amuse others, by collecting a
number of passages from the writings of these philolog-
ical champions, in which they not only contradict each
other flatly, but bandy epithets with which they seem
but too familiar, whether from the study of slang dic-
tionaries or from their partiality for the customs of primi-
tive savages. Let every man judge for himself, and give
his opinion and his reasons for it; but simply to point
out that Bopp has been called an ignoramus by some-
body— it may be even by someone who is somebody —
that Sir William Jones has been dubbed a mere pre-
tender, or Darwin a fool, may no doubt serve to raise a
smile, and to bring a whole subject into discredit, but it
can do no possible good. What province is there in the
whole realm of human knowledge in which there is no
difference of opinion? None, I should say, except where
there is for a time neither life, nor progress, nor discov-
ery. It is because there is at present intense vitality in
the comparative study of ancient languages, traditions,
customs, mythologies, and religions that there is in it
that constant friction, that frequent scintillation, but also
that constant increase of new light. Do you think we
shall ever have infallibility and immutability in the
republic of learning? I hope not, for to my mind that
would mean nothing but sluggishness, languor and death.
Scholars welcome everybody who in the open tourna-
ment of science will take his chance, dealing blows and
receiving or parrying blows; but the man who does not
fight himself, but simply stands by to jeer and sneer
when two good knights have been unseated in break-
ing a lance in the cause of truth, does nothing but mis-
chief, and might, indeed, find better and worthier em-
ployment.
To say, therefore, that the results of Comparative
Philology, Ethnology and Mythology are still too un-
certain to make it safe for a philosopher to take them
into consideration, is mere laziness. The river of knowl-
edge, like all other rivers, will never stop flowing for
timid men to pass through with dry feet; it will flow on
in omne volubilis aevum, and we must take our header
into it, and swim or drown.
There is one advantage at least in getting old. To
a young man, or I should rather say to a man of middle
age, to see the pendulum swinging from one extreme to
the other, to see the views which he learnt with implicit
faith from his teacher demolished by men it may be far
inferior in knowledge, judgment and character, is often
disheartening. But if one is allowed to watch the clock
of knowledge for a longer time than is commonly
allotted to hardworking students, one feels comforted on
seeing the pendulum returning once more to the oppo-
site side, and one finds out that after all there was more
to be said for the exploded errors than we imagined
thirty years ago.
I say one feels comforted, though others would
probably say, " Is, then, our knowledge nothing but a
perpetual swing-swang? Must we be content with
always oscillating between truth and untruth, and does
the flux and reflux of scientific opinion always leave us
exactly where we were before?" No; I certainly do
not take so desponding a view of our human destiny.
On the contrary, I feel convinced that while the pendu-
lum vibrates regularly backwards and forwards, the
finger on the dial— to keep to our metaphor — moves on-
ward, slowly but steadily — unless there is something
wrong in the wheels within wheels which represent the
incessant toil cf honest and unselfish workers.
You may of late years have heard a good deal about
new views in Comparative Philology. I highly appre-
ciate every one of these new views, but I do not there-
fore entirely surrender the old views. There has not
been a cataclysm, a complete break between the old and
the new, as some giddy people want to make out.
There has been, as there ought to be, a constant reform,
but there has never been a coup a" etat. Some of the
very foundations of our science have had to be re-exam-
ined, and have been strengthened by new supports.
Some important additions have been made with regard
to phonetic laws, and on the whole it has been found
that many things which were accepted as beyond doubt,
were after all not quite so certain as they seemed at first.
Let us only take one instance. You have probably
all heard of what I called GrimnCs Z.azv, and what, as
I fully admit, would more correctly have been called
Grimm' 's Rule. However, it may be called at least an
Empirical Law, for it contains the observation of a uni-
formity in the changes of consonants in Low German
and High German, as compared with all the other lan-
guages of the Aryan family. We find the observation
of that uniformity in its crudest form in Rask. It was
afterward generalized and more firmly established by
Grimm. Still, a number of exceptions remained, and
these were gradually diminished by the discovery of
new rules by Lottner, Grassmann and Verner. But even
now, much remains to be done. There are still excep-
tions to be accounted for, such as Gothic fadi, which as
Sanskrit has the accent on the first, ought to he fat hi ;
or Gothic hvathar, whether, which as Sanskrit katard
228
THE OPEN COURT.
has the accent on the last, should be hvadar. Nay, I
believe that a higher law has yet to be discovered to
account for the influence which, according to Verner,
the accent immediately before Sanskrit tenues is sup-
plied to exercise. If the accent is on the vowel imme-
diately preceding the tenuis in Sanskrit, the tenuis be-
comes aspirate in Low German; if not, the Sanskrit
tenuis appears in Low German as the corresponding
media. Thus Sanskrit bhrdtar becomes in Gothic bro-
thar, t being replaced by th; but Sanskrit pitar becomes
fadar; Sanskrit mdtar, Anglo Saxon modor. Why?
Simply because the accent in Sanskrit was immediately
before the t in bhrdtar, but not so in pitdr and mdtar.
This shows how closely languages are held together, a
change of accent in Sanskrit being sufficient to e (plain
the change of /// and d in Gothic, Anglo Saxon and
other Low German dialects. But we have, as yet, the
facts only. Why the accent should exercise this influ-
ence we do not know, unless we suppose that the accent
before the tenuis draws the tenuis toward the preceding
vowel, makes it, as it were, the final of a syllable, and
secures to it that aspiration which a tenuis would claim,
if the final of a word.*
I wish I could give you to-day a fuller account of
the excellent work that has been done during the last
twenty years by such men as Lottner, Grassmann, Ver-
ner, Ascoli, Fick, Ludwig, Schmidt, Collitz, Brugmann,
OsthofF, de Saussure, Schrader, and many others. You
would be surprised at the perfection which has been at-
tained in the elaboration of phonetic rules, in the obser-
vations on the working of analogy, in the more exact
definition of technical terms, and in the historical con-
clusions to be drawn from the facts supplied by a com-
parison of cognate languages.
But my object to-day is a different one. I wish to
call your attention to the progress that has been made in
our comprehension of language itself. Now, whatever
views were formerly held about language, everybody
was agreed that language was a most wonderful thing,
so wonderful, in fact, that perhaps the wisest thing that
could be said about it was that it must have been of
superhuman or divine origin. It was quite clear that,
though men might frame new out of old words, no man
could ever frame at his own pleasure a word entirely
new. Nor did nature seem to have supplied primitive
humanity with a vocabulary, for all vocabularies differed,
and every person capable of speaking had to learn his
language from his parents. Whence, therefore, could
language, with its millions of words, come to us except
from a superhuman and supernatural source? We
wonder at the infinite number of stars, and we well may.
One look at that silent eternal procession is worth all
the miracles of all religions put together. But if the
•Sec Heyne, Laut und FlexionsUhrr, p. 9S; also Sweet, History of Enelisk
Sounds, p. 9.
stars on high and the still small voice within seemed to
the greatest philosopher the two greatest miracles, might
he not have added the galaxy of words as the third great
miracle that passes all understanding, though it passes
every day before our very eyes ? If you consider that the
great English dictionary, now being published by the
University press at Oxford, is to contain two hundred
and fifty thousand words, that is, a quarter of a million,
and that on a low average every word admits of at least
ten changes by means of declension, conjugation, or de-
grees of comparison,* you have before you, in English
alone, two millions and a half of words, every one a bright
star of human thought. I wonder what the number of
the stars in Heaven may be. Struve, I am told, formed
a guess that their number might amount to two millions!
But the visible stars, up to stars of the fifth magnitude,
amount to one thousand three hundred and eighty-two
only, and I doubt whether anybody here present has
ever seen more than twice that number, as I doubt
whether many people have ever used more than twice
that number of words. At Oxford, as Professor Pritch-
ard informs me, the stars which we see with the naked
eye are about two thousand eight hundred — about the
same as the number of the members of the University in
their various degrees of light and magnitude.
THE RELATION OF THE DOCTRINE OF POPULA-
TION TO SOCIAL REFORM.
PROF. HENRY C ADAMS.
One is almost ashamed to speak of the doctrine of
population, so many have been the errors and miscon-
ceptions respecting it; yet it is fundamental to all right
thinking upon the ultimate destiny of the human race,
and, in consequence, to the consideration of any proposal
of social reform. Indeed, it is believed by many to be
a system of thought which stands opposed to all re-
forms, and on that account, also, it should receive the
attention of students of social relations.
We shall put ourselves on the right track for inter-
preting correctly the Essay on the Principles of Popu-
lation, by Robert Malthus, which appeared in 1798,
if we notice the story of its writing. It appears that
the elder Mr. Malthus was a student of Condorcet, a
disciple of Rousseau, and a friend of Godwin. These
writers believed the evils of society to arise from the
vices of human institutions. Man was not depraved
by nature; it was as easy for him to do right as to do
wrong; his acts were determined by his surroundings.
Could the artificial structure of society be changed,
there was no reason in the nature of' things why men
could not attain a state of perfectability and live forever
in comfort and happiness. These writers, it will be ob-
served, were optimistic anarchists. They appealed from
*A Greek verb, according to Curtius, admits of ?07 modifications; a San-
skrit verb of 891.
THE OPEN COURT.
229
the artificial regulations of the eighteenth century to a
law of nature, urging that harmony and happiness
must necessarily follow the dethronement of king-made
law and the enthronement of natural law. It was this
set of teachings which the elder Malthus sought to force
upon his son, but the intelligence of the son refused to
submit to the vagaries of uncontrolled imagination. Let
us assume, said the young man, that society has at-
tained a perfect state of equality in which each has
enough to satisfy rational wants, and that what you
term the "law of natural liberty" is the only authority;
such a happy state cannot last, for it lies written also
in this law of nature that the human species will in-
crease up to the limit of subsistence. " In a state of uni-
versal physical well-being, this tendency, which in real
life is held in check by the difficulty of procuring a
subsistence, would operate without restraint. Scarcity
would follow the increase of numbers; the leisure would
soon cease to exist; the old struggle for life would re-
commence, and inequality would reign once more."
In judging of the doctrine of population as a system
of thought, we should never lose sight of the contro-
versy in which it was formulated. As an answer to the
conclusion of those to whom it was addressed the argu-
ment was final, for, assuming " natural liberty" to be
the only premise of action, a perfected society is an im-
possibility. The poverty and crime which spring neces-
sarily from the unregulated struggle for individual exist-
ence will surely make its appearance; but it is only when
the conclusions of the essay are regarded as true inde-
pendently of the assumptions from which they proceeded,
that they throw a false light upon the problem of the
ultimate destiny of the race. This was well recognized
by Malthus, and when he perceived what use people
were likely to make of his doctrine, he modified its
premises so as to be more nearly in harmony with the
facts of life; that is to say, he admitted the existence of
moral restraints upon the increase of numbers, thus tak-
ing the entire question out from the domain of natural
law and subjecting it to the control of a conscious pur-
pose in society.
This, to my mind, is the most important lesson to be
drawn from the doctrine of population when studied
in his historical setting. The development of human
society is not wholly directed by blind force acting
through individuals, but the intelligence of society may
be brought to bear so as to direct development toward
rational ends.
Let us now return to the thought from which we
started. If we brush aside the long and tedious discus-
sion to which the law of population has given rise, we
shall see that the true interpretation of Malthuseanism is
not that poverty and crime are necessary phenomena in
an advancing society, for the theory itself admits that
these evils may be set aside by subjecting the natural
laws of production and procreation to the direction of
an intelligent will. It does not therefore stand opposed
to reform, but declares one of the conditions to which
reform, if successful, must adjust itself. Whence, then,
it may be asked, arises that contemptuous hatred with
which many regard the doctrine? This, I think, comes
from the restricted and unwarranted interpretation of
the phrase " moral restraints." It has been commonly
held that the only restraint to be brought into play was
the self-restraint of the poor with regard to marriage,
and the only motive which could induce to the exercise
of this restraint was the fear of over-stocking the labor
market. If the poor will propagate without reason they
must take the consequences. Such is the comforting
theory of the rich.
But such, I apprehend, is not the necessary conclu-
sion from the premises. Were the poor sufficiently in-
telligent, or had they the time to become intelligent, so
as to clearly see the bearings of great social forces, they
might perhaps be held in a degree responsible for the
barriers which they erect against the advancement of
their own class, although even that would not excuse
the well-to-do for perverting the industrial forces from
their highest social employment to the ministry of per-
sonal luxury. But since the poor lack the intelligence
necessary for appreciating the law of social progress,
the superior intelligence of society should be brought to
bear in directing their thoughts for them. In a certain
degree this has been already done, as, for example, in
the quite universal establishment of popular education.
For it is well recognized that the spread of intelligence
renders men sensitive to those influences which threaten
race deterioration. Such efforts are commendable, but
they are not adequate. The phrase " moral restraints"
must be granted an interpretation which shall lead to
broader schemes of reform than any yet undertaken
before its full meaning may be said to have been appre-
hended.
It seems, then, that in applying the law of popula-
tion we must look away from the individual and con-
sider the question as a question of social development,
and from this point of view two thoughts make them-
selves clear. First, it is not the actual numbers of
people, but the rapidity of their increase that determines
the grade of physical comfort in which men may
live. If the proportion of producers to dependents is at
any time too large, the tendency will be to lower the
standard of living. But at the present time, while the
world is passing through the period of industrial
advancement which marks the nineteenth century, this
thought is of comparatively slight importance. Under
present conditions, over population is no explanation of
poverty. But in the second place, i.t is the source from
which population comes, rather than the rapidity of its
increase, which determines the influence of numbers
23°
THE OPEN COURT.
upon the character of society. If the men born into
the world are of the right sort there is no immediate
danger of there being too many of them. How then
may the source of increasing numbers be brought
under the control of the social judgment? Legislation
upon this point has for the most part failed. The
restriction of marriages has commonly resulted in an
increase of illegitimate births. There seems to be no
adequate answer to this question, except the one which
recognizes that all men are open to the influence of the
same motives, and which seeks to adjust society in such
a manner that these motives may produce their normal
results. Upon whom do the moral restraints respecting
population now work? Manifestly upon those who
are born sufficiently high in the social scale to appreci-
ate the allurements of hope. Who, on the other hand,
are wholly careless as to the consequences of marriage?
The answer is equally plain. It is they who have
nothing to hope for in the world as they find it, and
who are too weak to hew for themselves a path to suc-
cess. This matter of hopefulness is in part a matter of
temperament, but its development is largely a matter of
circumstances. Of one fact we may rest assured, and
that is that hope will never spring up where the door
of opportunity is closed. It is not enough that the law
grants men a legal right to better their circumstances if
they are able; the conditions of success must be adjusted
to the ability of all men, the weak as well as the strong,
or the restraining influence of hope can never save us
from an increase in numbers of the worst sort.
The conclusion of this somewhat rambling discus-
sion is this. The doctrine of population, properly
understood, does not stand in the way of rational reform,
for the question of population will cease to be a matter
of embarrassment in any society where men can easily
attain and maintain a reasonably high grade of social
enjoyment.
" MIND READING, ETC.:" A REPLY TO M. J. SAVAGE.
BY J. S. ELLIS.
In your issue of April 2S, appears an article by
Minor. J. Savage, on the above subject, the "etc." being
brought out very conspicuously. The article is a very
characteristic one, and I think it only fair to your read-
ers that some criticism of it be allowed. The letter is
characteristic in these points:
i. The claim that there are proven facts which
are denied admittance into scientific theories. The claim
seems to he, that because there are some things which
cannot at present be explained, therefore we ought to
believe the specialties put forward.
2. The demand that investigators should be
believers.
3. The statement that, when once a general truth
lias been established in a man's mind, he does not require
so much evidence to support a special case.
4. The total absence of any facts bearing on the
subject; accompanied by the acknowledgement that
Mr. Savage is " not ready to publish more than hints or
fragments of facts " which have led him to the certainty
he expresses.
"Psychic Research" has certainly labored for many
years under special disadvantages. Although favored
by the support of a few scientific men, it has been
tabooed by the great majority. But its most conspicu-
ous disadvantage has been the support of its " friends,"
the professional mediums. There cm be no doubt that
these persons have brought more discredit upon all
forms of spiritualism, by the exposures which their
exhibitions have entailed, than would have been inflicted
by any amount of respectable opposition. But surely,
after so many years of experiments and investigation,
some facts rather than mere "hints and fragments"
should be forthcoming. Men of sense demand, not
"experiments," that to-day may be successful, but may
fail to-morrow, even when all preliminaries are arranged
apparently satisfactorily; but facts, the exhibition of
which can be arranged and carried out with scientific
certainty, openly, and with every precaution against
fraud. For it is not enough that certain results should
be exhibited and the spectators be forced to admit the
statements of the exhibitors as to preliminaries. What
is required is, that the whole of the preliminaries and
accompanying circumstances should be perfectly exposed
as in all really scientific investigations, and that the
results should be capable of being repeated in similar
circumstances. Until this is done, we are bound to
treat the pretensions of all "mediums " as at least not
sufficiently sustained to justify us in classing these pre-
tenders among scientific investigators. It is this slight
spice of talk about science which induces me to write
this letter; for I find that, not only does it mislead a large
number of persons who make no claim to scientific
knowledge or methods of thought; but it actually
induces some otherwise clear-headed thinkers to admit
as possibilities, facts or supposed facts which their
mature judgment wouM cause them to utterly repudiate
did they approach the matter in the logical and scientific
frame of mind with which they attack other problems.
The first claim is that there are "facts" which find
no place in scientific theories. This is followed by a
statement that thousands of sane persons assert that won-
derful psychic facts are of "daily occurrence;" and is
preceded by an acknowledgment that the writer is " not
ready to publish more than hints or fragments of facts."
After such an admission, it is not surprising that the
only "facts" mentioned are that certain mediums have
"told things" which they "could not have known."
The reason this sort of rubbish is not admitted into
scientific theories is plain to those of us who are unbe-
lievers. If a chemist desires to exhibit the composition
THE OPEN COURT.
231
of salt, he takes a sample from any cupboard or shop
where he can find it. Allowing for impurity, the result
of hn experiment is the same. If the Psychic Force man
wants to prove his "facts," he can only do so by getting
certain "mediums" who are experienced in the business
to perform the "experiments." Let Mr. Savage tell
me some of the "strange powers" which have been
exercised in his study, so that I can call them forth in
my study, and I will do my best to assist in their estab-
lishment on a scientific basis. I certainly have often
longed for the assistance of some force which would
enable me to "move physical objects without muscular
pressure." Vain wish, alas!
But why should investigators be believers? Scien-
tific men do not care whether investigators are believers
or not. They know perfectly well that investigation
will turn unbelievers into believers, and give them
knowledge in place of prejudice. It is true, that a man
who believes in the truth he is seeking and knows the
direction in which to investigate, is more likely So be
successful in finding it than another with less belief and
less knowledge. But if an ignorant unbeliever asks a
scientific man for information, the scientist will give him
the means of gaining the knowledge he requires, and
not throw his letter into the waste basket, as Mr. Savage
suggests.
The third claim might be paraphrased thus: "When
once a man has persuaded himself that his particular
nostrum is the truth, he will receive and promulgate any
number of 'cases' supporting it that maybe reported
without any particular inquiry into their reality." That
this is no exaggeration is shown by the acknowledgment
that, in regard to the alleged proof of the existence of
thought-transference, Mr. Savage's "acceptance is based
not so much on the evidence offered, as on the fact that
I am sure things quite as wonderful have occurred in
my own experience." Is there any scientific theory into
which this sort of thing can be made to fit? Mr. Savage
says the present condition of affairs (that is, the non-
acceptance of these alleged "facts" by scientists) is "a
scandal both to science and philosophy." If there is any
scandal, it would appear to me to rest on the shoulders
of men who are putting forward notions so opposed to
all true science, that the utmost that can be said in their
favor is that they "need explanation;" the very facts on
which they are based requiring substantiation. Until
some substantial facts are put forward — facts which can
be demonstrated by all inquirers, and not by a few
specialists who make it their hobby — I think* we are
fairly entitled to relegate all this business to the domain
of the mountebank and the charlatan.
The real value of evidence seems to be a point on
which, too, spiritualists have very indefinite notions.
They seem to think that all that is necessary is, that a
few people at a seance should be forced to acknowledge
that they have seen something which they cannot ex-
plain, to give them fair ground for asking us to believe
their explanation to be true. Even if we could not
explain some of these things, if we knew all the circum-
stances, the evidence of even ten thousand eye-witnesses
would be of no value, if it could be shown that they
were wanting in sufficient accurate knowledge to make
them competent judges. What would be the value of
the evidence of a few millions of Africans as to the
cause of an eclipse or a rainbow? The only things
which are hinted at in the article are those which, if
true, certainly would seem to partake of the miraculous,
or something equally reasonable. If a friend of mine
were to tell me something which I knew he could not
possibly have known, I think my answer would be short
if not flattering. And I can easily understand why so
much has been written on this matter without even the
first step having been taken toward placing it on a
scientific basis.
CHATS WWH A CHIMPANZEE.
BY MOSCl'RE D. CONWAY.
Part IV.
When I next visited my chimpanzee he said that
we would have to postpone our further discussion be-
cause a rite of especial importance was about to be per-
formed there by the Brahmans, and no stranger could
be present. I expressed my sorrow at this, and my
regret that I could not witness more of these secret
solemnities.
" If you are sufficiently arboreal to climb with me
yon tree," said the chimpanzee, " and to hide behind its
larger branch and risk a small fine and large noise on
possible discovery, you can witness what is done; it is
mainly singing and dancing."
I was soon up the tree and seated on a limb jutting
from the large branch. My monkey friend perched
just in front of me on the more exposed side. Thus he
not only helped to conceal me but was close enough to
answer in a whisper any question I might to put.
Presently a sedan-shrine was borne into the court; I
caught only a glimpse of its deity, who seemed to have
a monkey's face,but of this I was not certain, its back being
toward me. After priests had prostrated themselves
flat before it, and some cakes been laid on small stands,
a number of men entered and knelt each to a priest, who
covered the bowed head with his skirt. It appeared to
be a process of confession and avsolution. Then seven
men entered, each bearing a musical instrument, and
squatted on the stone floor. An equal number of tem-
ple dancers followed, and, having removed an upper
garment bowed before the deity till their foreheads
touched the ground. The movement and expression
were those of absolute submission and helplessness.
Then the musicians began their singing, with instru-
mental accompaniment, the dancers remaining motionless.
THE OPEN COURT.
The " music " was a monotonous thrum-thrum and
twanc-twang; the singing was a prolonged whine in
unison.
" How does that music impress you ?" asked my sage
when the first performance was over.
" I should hardly call it music," I answered softly.
" It sounds like mere whining and whimpering, and is
not beautiful."
" Perhaps you do not understand it. Now that they
are about to sing again, I will get closer to you and
translate every word."
This time the strain profoundly impressed me. It
told of the hardness and weariness of life; the sentence
of death under which each is born; the partings, the
heartbreaks; the wonder whether the world were sport
of demons or a hell for punishing sins of previous exist-
ence; the consuming famine was described, the drying
up of streams, the ghouls of disease, the misery of exist-
ence. The tones in which these burdens were conveyed
were as perfectly adapted to the sense as the moaning
of a wounded animal, the sigh of bereaved hearts, the
bleating of sheep whose lambs are slain, the cooing of
lonely doves. As I listened my eyes filled with tears.
" You weep, my friend," said the chimpanzee. " For
that this music exists. It was not meant to please the
ear but to move the heart. It is developed out of the
piteous supplications of mendicants. It is meant to move
the hearts of gods and goddesses as it has moved yours."
Tinkle, tinkle ! The dancers arose and went through
their strange evolutions. These too, were not aiming at
beauty, as 1 presently understood. They pleaded before
their god with movements. One girl described the pas-
sion of that god ; how he had seen his ideal become ac-
tual in a female form, pursued her, and become the
father of heroes. When she had acted the divine leg-
end, another told in her dance how mortals too kindle
with love, which, unsatisfied, must consume them. Now
clasping her hands, now pressing them to her throbbing
temples, she portrayed every phase of passion till at last
she sank, a picture of death, with hands folded on her
breast. Then forth sprang a third, and, while the in-
strumentalist beat a happier measure, she danced the joy
of happy love, of embraces, of paradise; without, how-
ever, any effort to be graceful or fascinating.
" But even this joy is sung in sad minors," I said,
" and the dancer's face does not smile."
" No," said my friend, " for her every step is amid
fearful perils."
The tired players and dancers now departed. In a
few moments the courtyard was entirely vacant, save for
the slumberous monkeys. In a few moments we were
comfortably seated there.
" What you have just witnessed," said the chimpan-
zee, " is a fit overture to what I have to say about the
evolution of our race through speech. You have heard
music and songs, and seen dances, exactly as they were
heard and seen in the beginnings of time. Music and
dancing, their original purpose being lost, have been
elsewhere developed into arts of human pleasure; but, as
in their origin they involved the favor or disfavor of
deities, were matters of life and death, even so is it with
our temple singers and dancers. Each is trained in the
belief that a slightest mistake in accent or motion will
bring him or her an eternity of torment. They are a
select caste, and feel themselves in the employment of
gods and goddesses who will not forgive the least ad-
mixture of error in their ceremonies, nor the slightest
attempt to please mere mortals.
" A curious state of mind," I said.
" Yes, but like other natural curiosities, developed
by simple forces. Have you not known people in your
country who believe absurdities?"
" Many."
"They were created by the absurdities they believe;
that is, such beliefs must have been for a long time con-
ditions of comfortable existence and family development.
For these choirs of the temple the dependence of actual
life and death on their exact performances has gradually
projected itself into a superstition of the divine and eternal
interests dependent on their every motion, accent, tone,
word. From this it is an easy step to personification of
the spoken word: as Fate, Fairy (fatu?n, the thing
spoken ;_fari, to speak).
" All that line of mental development," I said, " has
in the West culminated in a dogma that the word of
God is a distinct Person, embodying creative power,
and that it once appeared on earth in human form and
dwelt among men."
"Through such fables" said my sage, "runs a thread
of truth connecting us with a period when the spoken word
was really vital. The word was coinage of a need ; it came
hard and was never spoken or written in vain. To tamper
with a word might mislead a tribe to its destruction. A
warning of pickets inscribed on a rock, in signs agreed
on, if altered might lead their fellows to disaster. This,
however, is but a smallest illustration of the importance
of the word as a factor of evolution. Your physiolo-
gists find the natural bridge between mere vocal sound
and articulate speech too infinitesimal for measurement.
Among us there was always a dispute as to how nature
passed that minute point where vocal chords were able
to articulate. Some said it was by a bit of luck; others
maintained that it was the evolutional culmination of the
animal sounds repeated in the hissing, braying, cooing
of the human infant; but all agreed on what was really
effected by the acquisition of speech. The anthropoid
race from which you and I are descended was a race of
howlers. They howled when they were happy, and
when they were unhappy ; their community was organ-
ization of a howl. But one of them managed to cut up
THE OPEN COURT.
233
his howl into bits, making it a chatter; this he used
when he was satisfied, reserving his howl for distress.
The result was that whenever that anthropoid's indiv-
idual howl was heard all the rest knew it must be
trouble, and hastened to his aid. The possession of this
superior vocal power by reflex action took its place in
that anthropoid's consciousness; he became alive to sounds
inaudible to others. Once, hearing a howl more piercing
than usual, he hurried to its utterer, and rescued from a
serpent a female of the community. From the marriage
of this chatterer with a wife able to make her howl
expressive, sprang a family of anthropoid genius. Instead
of the old monotonous howl these had various expressions
a whine when ill, a sharp cry for a serpent's approach,
a growl when it was a wolf, a bark for something
else. These sounds multiplied their sources of security.
The anthropoids which could not acquire such vocal
variability got the worst of things, the others the
best. These formed an anthropoid aristocracy; all who
were able cultivated some vocal variation which enabled
them to marry into this aristocracy, in which all advan-
tages were steadily accumulated. And while these were
becoming the sum of every creatures best, pari passu the
mere howlers were pauperized, denuded of their best indi-
viduals and deteriorated. There was interbreeding of
ignorance and incapacity on one side by which anthropoids
were turned into apes, while interbreeding of superiori-
ties on the other was evolving anthropoids into men.
You have only to suppose the selecting process to go on
long enough, — millions of years going to acquire one
further note of expression, — to realize that these minute
variations must at last end for the progressives the cycle of
the howl, and initiate the cycle of the spoken word. If
a grain of sand be deposited annually on one spot, the
process need only be continued long enough for a
mountain to stand there. I have said ' word,' but at
first it might be merest root of a word ; yet roots grow,
and spread in branches, for each variety of expression
corresponded to a variety of experience. An anthropoid
parent, dying by a serpent's bite, might inform his fel-
lows that the serpent is deadly; they can turn his expe-
rience to wisdom without undergoing it. Oral tradi-
tions, representing an accumulation of facts and experi-
ences, became to those who could remember them as a
catalogue of the chief dangers and opportunities inci-
dental to anthropoid life. This was a principle of selec-
tion. The community of chatterers advanced to be a
social organism of the spoken word.
" Successive changes in one organ drew after them
modifications of our whole animal constitution. In-
creased communication led to co-operation, followed by
increased comfort, means, and so much liberation of
intelligence from concentration on the momentary needs.
These led on to the great transformation. This came
when these stored up experiences, preserving most those
most impressed bv them, so developing memory, finally
relieved the race from bondage to want enough to admit
intervals of leisure. Then was developed, out of mem-
ory and freedom, the power to compare traditions, select
those that confirmed each other, and so gain some notion
of classified events — or laws. For this began the work
of purposed selection, — like that which in the hands of
man has changed the rude stocks of nature into fruits
and cattle. Mankind changed pine cones to pine-
apples by mere instruction of interest, long before
any evolutionary method in nature was recognized.
That method which surrounds man with a civilized
world of his own creation is not now applied by man to
his own breeding. Conventionalism sanctioned bv
dogma forbids that. But there was no such arresting
power over the forms preceding man. Between the
animals which express themselves by gesture and cries,
and the first talker, came no emaciating skepticism, no
supernatural extortioner demanding half their food for
sacrifice. They were able to make the most and best of
themselves; consequently it were no more miraculous
that the}' should develop themselves into man, if they
saw fit, than that man, unrestricted by dogma, working
freely, should change a wild briar into a rose."
At this moment the daughter of the chimpanzee ap-
proached. He placed his finger on his mouth, winked,
gave me to understand that he did not wish to be sus-
pected of speech, and waved me a silent farewell.
PROTESTANTISM AND THE NEW ETHICS.
BY WILLIAM CLARKE.
On the afternoon of the last Sunday in February, I
stood amid a vast crowd composed mainly of working
people near the portico of St. Paul's Cathedral in Lon-
don. It was the day of the so-called "Church Parade"
of the unemployed people of London, who intended by
this means to attract the attention of the wealthy classes
to their condition. I think I never felt so deeply what
an utter farce the church had become in England. And
by this word church I do not refer to the Catholic
church, which is popular and sympathetic to the poor
(however absurd its alleged miracles and pretended
infallibility may be), but to the Protestant section of the
Christian church, especially as established and endowed
in England. Here were masses of poor people from
every part of London to the number of twenty or
thirty thousand, rough and ill-clothed, but for the most
part quiet and orderly, who were come to show them-
selves in what is supposed to be their own church.
This great church was specially guarded by over 3,000
policemen (called to protect the Lord Mayor and his
wealthy friends against their humbler "brethren")
although it is actually dedicated to a man who worked
with his own hands for a living and taught his fellow-
believers to do the same. If Paul could have forseen
234
THE OPEN COURT.
the time when a cathedral bearing his name should be
erected in the greatest mammon-worshiping center in
the world, and should be usually attended by mammon's
chief votaries and that the poor to whom in his day
" the gospel was preached," should only have been
admitted to his temple on condition of 3,000 guardians
of "law and order" looking after them, what, I wonder,
would he have said? What a theme the presence of
these unemployed might have furnished for a really
inspired preacher with a genuine human gospel! — a
gospel of salvation from the real evils of life, and not
from any sham hell beyond the grave. What an
opportunity for a WyclifFe or a Savonarola! But alas,
no inspired man filled St. Paul's pulpit; only a well-
meaning man, with no gospel worth having or worth
listening to. "The rich and the poor meet together; the
Lord is the maker of them all" — that was his text.
And then we had the usual time-honored platitudes as
to God intending that there should be divisions and
classes in society ; how rich as well as poor had their
troubles, and how the rich were to remember the poor
and give them presents, and how celestial pearl and
gold was going to compensate for the absence of ter-
restrial cash. The preacher was evidently a kindly
person who did really piUy the condition of many of
his hearers, but I could not help thinking of Emerson's
words, " good nature is plentiful enough, but we want
justice with heart of steel to fight down the proud."
When the service was over the revolutionary
leaders stacked their red flags round the poor old dilapi-
dated statue of Queen Anne in front of the cathedral,
a procession was formed and with flags flying and
bands playing, the unemployed marched to the embank-
ment where a second discourse was preached of a very
different nature from that inside St. Paul's. I followed
after, and having learned from one or two of the social-
ist leaders what they thought of their experiment, I
p oceeded to meditate on the complete failure of the
church to touch the vital issues of to-day, and I thought
very much as follows:
The Protestant churches of Christendom are all
vitiated by three radical defects. In the first place they
are the outcome of the individualist movement < f the
reformation which, having spent itself, is now well-nigh
exhausted. The individualism which in the reformation,
the Puritan revolution and the French revolution, was
necessary as a destructive agency to lie applied to the
old dungeon-house of feudalism, where men were
stifled for want of thought and capacity for expansion,
which was essential foi purposes of discovery and inven-
tion, and, consequently, for the immense impetus given
to material production — this individualism which we asso-
ciate with such names as Luther, Cromwell, Voltaire
and Franklin, has discharged, in the main, its task, has
nearly exhausted its possibilities of good and is now
showing its evil side and developing its latent contra-
dictions. Necessary as a protest against tyranny, mere
individualism is powerless to build up any great human
society into which the men of the future shall be as
truly incorporated as men in Western Europe a thousand
years ago were incorporated into the mediaeval empire
and the mediaeval church. And individualists are satis-
fied that this should be so. It realizes their idea of
"freedom." Herbert Spencer and Auberon Herbert,
the English apostles of individualism, actually liken
men to a pile of cannon-balls. Each unit quite distinct
and separate from the other. Each unit is to be "free"
to do exactly as he like, provided he leaves his fellow-
units alone. This is supposed to be the final consum-
mation of human progress; it is really the entering
wedge of social anarchy, leaving the cash-nexus as the
only bond of human relationship. The true social doc-
trine is the organic unity of society, in the absence of
which no individual can possibly develop his life. To
be relieved of social pressure and the social claims of every
human being is not to achieve "freedom," it is simply to
negate individuality in the truest, highest sense of that
word ; it is a retrogade movement, and it really provides at
this hour whatever intellectual basis there may be for
conservatism in England. As an outcome of this great
individualist movement (contained in germ in Christian-
ity, but fully developed by the reformation and sub-
sequent events) we find the Protestant churches, partic-
ularly those of English-speaking countries, for in con-
tinental Europe ordinary Protestantism does not count ;s
a living force.
Now this Protestantism becomes evidently more and
more opposed every day to the new social ideal which
is felt, not only by revolutionists, but by nearly all of
the progressive spirits of our time. That ideal is, I
think, a harmonious social order in which there shall be
equality of opportunity. The cry of Browning in
"Paracelsus" will be the cry of the social reformer:
" Make no more giants, God, but elevate the race at
once!" It is the general elevation of all, not the
dazzling eminence of a few powerful or gifted persons,
that the great social forces will now aim at producing.
How can ordinary Protestantism help in this work? Its
churches are devoted to setting forth aims wholly differ-
ent. The general mass of mankind are regarded by it as
" children of wrath" from whom a remnant aregracious'y
to be selected by some mysterious process. Thus the ordi-
nary Protestant doctrine is fundamentally aristocractic,
denying practically the unity of mankind (the very cor-
ner-stone of the new ethics) and declaring a doctrine of
divine favoritism. The man of the world who has
imbibed Protestantism on its material side, declares with
Fitzjames Stephen, its most brutal exponent, that this
world is made for hard practical people, who know
what they want and mean to get it. In other words he
THE OPEN COURT.
'■35
applies the entirely non-ethical principles of Darwinism
— the struggle for existence and survival of the fittest —
to society. On the other hand the ordinary religious
Protestant maintains a celestial favoritism, the palm-
branches and golden streets for the "elect" and the
chains and red-hot furnaces for the masses of mankind.
On neither basis can any ethical social doctrine be
founded.
In the next place Protestantism is allied to wealth
and to social power. In most of the churches in Eng-
land to-day neither Jesus nor any of his disciples
(whose unreal images are painted on the windows)
would be shown into a pew, and the chances are that
they would be warned off the premises. These churches,
in not a few cases, exist for the purpose of providing
liberal doses of soothing syrup to the well-to-do classes,
whose nice susceptibilities are outraged by the ragged
garments of the poor. Now as Jesus denounced the
respectable classes of his day (on the whole as decent a
set of people as our millionaires, legislators, lawyers,
etc.) as "serpents" and as "a generation of vipers,"
and as fit subjects for "damnation," there is little
doubt that if he were with us to-day his condemnation
of our organized religion would be little, if at all,
less severe. For his spirit is not the spirit of mod-
ern Protestantism. To the poor the gospel is not
preached. The)' are, on the contrary, lectured by
wealthy archbishops on their want of " thrift," and by
gluttonous aldermen, who drink champagne out of big
tumblers, on their " intemperance."
Thirdly. The church still believes in "other-world-
liness," and regards the bad social state which obtains
as having been ordained by God for the spiritual dis-
cipline of his " children." If any human father were
to treat his own child in the way that God is asserted
by the church to treat the majority of the human race
in this world (to say nothing of the lake of fire provided
in the next), I think we should all contend for the honor
of lynching him. This view of the world taken by the
church may be right or wrong, but it is obvious that
nobody holding any such view can solve our social
problems. For if the church view is right then the
social problem is insoluble, and we must wait with as
much patience as we can command for the burning up
of such a disreputable planet. And if the church view
is wrong, then the church stands condemned as incapa-
ble of dealing with the tremendous facts of modern life.
The new ethical movement, of course, regards the
church view as utterly false. It declares on the con-
trary that we can make of human society pretty much
what we like, that for every wrong there is a remedy,
and that poverty and crime are no more " inevitable "
than was chattel slavery or mediasval serfdom. Leaving,
therefore, the clergy of the church to seek in the sepul-
cher for the redeemer in whom they only half believe,
the new movement would, as Emerson says, " descend
as a redeemer into nature " and make here a new earth
for a renovated humanity.
TWENTIETH ANNUAL CONVENTION OF THE
FREE RELIGIOUS ASSOCIATION.
BY F. M. HOLLAND.
The president of this body has told in The Open
Court how it was organized twenty years ago, "on
the basis of free thought," and in order "to make a
fellowship, not a party, to promote the scientific study
of religious truth," and "to keep open the lines of
spiritual freedom." This good work, though still nec-
essary, has been so far accomplished during the last few
years, as to stand much less in need of organized effort
now than it did in 1S67. Thus the F. R. A. has been
obliged to take up, at its annual meeting, in Tremont
Temple, Boston, May 26 and 27, the questions what it
is to do hereafter, and why it is to keep itself before the
world.
At the opening business session, on Thursday even-
ing, May 26, with the original president, O. B. Froth-
ingham, now vice-president, in the chair, a resolution
was presented by the president for the current year,
Wm.J. Potter, and adopted, to the effect that the execu-
tive committee shall make it their special work to cor-
respond with their fellow-members on the question
whether a reconstruction is necessary, and shall report
thereon at the annual meeting in 18S8. This resolution
was read the next morning at the opening of the con-
vention by Mr. Potter, who also presented a plan for
enlarging the association into four allied groups, of
which one should make religion and philosophy its
special subjects, another study problems of natural
science, the third take sociology, especially the diminu-
tion of vice, poverty, disease and crime, for its field, and
the fourth devote itself to amelioration of Sunday laws,
taxation of churches, and other branches of State secu-
larization. Each section should have its own officers,
and all be represented in the general government as well
as in the annual meetings. Mr. Potter acknowledged
that this plan is impracticable with the present limited
membership. For such work, many broad scholars,
eminent scientists and intelligent philanthropists must be
brought together; and if such gains cannot be made
under the present constitution, then perish the organiza-
tion. Long live the idea, the real king!
The next speaker on Friday morning, Mr. A. W.
Stevens, invited by request of the executive committee,
advised the association not to call itself Religious;
because religion, as expounded and defined on its plat-
form, is only a calm and cold philosophy. The F. R. A.
ought to suit its religion to people's wants, or drop its
name. He had no interest in any being but man, and
no desire to solve any problems but those of this life. It
236
THE OPEN COURT.
is these practical problems which the F. R. A. ought to
make prominent, and to do so with success it should lay
less stress on freedom and more on respect for scientific
thought, and for the rights of society. This essay was
so interesting that I should be glad to see it all in print,
especially as Mr. Stevens showed such unusual regard
for the rights of his neighbors on the platform as to
stop at the exact end of his allotted half-hour, and, of
his own accord, leave a number of his carefully prepared
pages unread. This sort of honesty is so rare, even in
liberal gatherings, that I was glad to see it repeated
that afternoon by Captain Adams. Among the last
passages read by Mr. Stevens was one proving that the
anarchists condemned at Chicago were in reality usur-
pers. Rev. M. J. Savage then spoke of progress
among Unitarians, as well as of the importance of
religion. Mr. W. M. Salter, speaking on the supremacy
of ethics, said he believed that when all else that the
religious world holds dear falls or becomes uncertain,
confidence in duty may remain unshaken. Religion so
far as it has not been the outgrowth of the moral senti-
ment has been an expensive luxury to the race, and has
come nigh to being a curse. Yet the moral sentiment
as naturally blossoms into a religious faith as the buds
of spring into leaf or flower. We cannot worship
nature or the sum of nature's powers. Without moral-
ity and the infinite suggestions it makes, worship cannot
find an object, and the word adorable would have to
pass out of literature. The moral sentiment gives
power. What ought to be, can be. The heart of the
world is sound and would we but give way to it, the
face of society would be as fair as is now the face of
nature. The moral sentiment breeds a great hope. Our
current doctrine of immortality has no moral fibre in it.
The only reason for supposing there is another life is in
case there are those who are worthy of it. Now no
drivelling saint nor damnable sinner but imagines he
or she is going to live again and live forever. There
never was such effrontery.
It is in this society, or in such an association
as is proposed by Mr. Potter, that the star of Bethlehem
is to re- appear, according to Mr. M. D. Conway. Chris-
tian morality is based on the dogma of a speedy millen-
ium, and therefore utterly impracticable. So is social-
ism. What is wanted is an association to advance ethical
truth by scientific methods. Professor Davidson, who
was not called upon until the session had proved too
long for most of the reporters, while approving of the
new plan, thought that what had been lacking was not
a statement of aims but one of definite methods. The
F. R. A. is too much like a Free Communication Asso-
ciation, which should hold conventions year after year,
to talk up the general advantage of having more rail-
roads, steamboats and telegraph lines, but should never
suggest any practical method of getting them. No
wonder it drags and seems but half alive. It is high
time to re-organize with different and practical methods,
with a more definite aim, and in harmony with science,
not faith.
This subject also came up with other topics, not only
at the afternoon convention, but at the evening festival.
Both Captain Adams and Mrs. Cheney agreed essen-
tially with Mr. Potter. Mr. Frothingham appeared
satisfied with what was done by the F. R. A. in supply-
ins: a free platform for speakers of all religions and no
religion; so did Col. Higginson, who spoke of the con-
vention and festival as the best ever given by the F. R. A.,
though he thought too much time had been spent on
definitions of religion, an old habit not likely, I fear,
to cease until some such name is taken as that of Pro-
gressive Association, proposed by Captain Adams.
The last gentleman, in speaking at 3 p. M., on Sunday
amusements, said that those who say God wants to have
us keep Sunday, ought to prove that he makes the cows
give twice as much milk as usual Saturdays, and lets it
keep until Monday, as well as that he takes more
pleasure in a jangle of church bells than in a good con-
cert. Then Judge Putnam showed, in a speech which
called out much laughter and applause, that the Sunday
law is not enforced, for it does not really make our be-
havior different from what it would be without it, except
in so far as it permits rascals to refuse to pay notes signed
on that day, or bills for goods then purchased. Mr.
Wm. L. Garrison thought God had rather look at parks
full of games than at gaudy churches, and that our
Sunday was kept much more for the benefit of the rich
than of the poor; and Rev. Charles Voysey, of London,
sent a letter pleading for more " opportunities of inno-
cent pleasure and games" on Sunday as a preservation
from vice.
The festival was a great success, with its bright, cor-
dial speeches, its tables lined with happy faces, its pro-
fusion of wild flowers, and its highly artistic music, due
especially to a family where The Open Court is
always welcome. A large number of copies of this
journal was sent to the convention by its editors, and
gratefully received by the audience, some of whom will
extend the distribution as far as Texas. The executive
committee, in their report soon to be published in a
pamphlet, with the official account of the oroceedings,
tells how this journal was founded by "a gentleman in
the West as generous in hand as he is liberal of thought,"
and also say: "We cordially congratulate our fellow-
members of this association on the fact that so gener-
ously founded and promising a publication has arisen,
outside of the association, to work for similar objects to
those of llic Index; and we think it will be generally
agreed that The Open Court has thus far manifested
a purpose, character and ability, which make it an honor
alike to its founder and to its editors." I, too, rejoice
THE OPEN COURT.
237
to see the same free jjlatform which the F. R. A. sets
up for a day or two, once or twice a year, kept standing,
with all its height and breadth ami purity, all the year
round in The Open Court.
COMMON CONSENT AND THE FUTURE LIFE.
BY RICHARD A. PROCTOR.
In my article on " Herbert Spencer as a Thinker,"
I touched on the question of the immortality of the soul,
or rather on the question of a future life, as viewed by
him, and also — in a note — on the argument from general
consent, which has ever been regarded by the unthink-
ing many as of itself sufficing to prove that the soul of
man is immortal. I propose now to remark more fully
on the futility of the argument from common consent,
associating it with the subject of the immortality of indi-
vidual life.
It is a familiar problem in probabilities to determine
how far a report may be trusted when it is received from
such and such persons, whose veracity is regarded as re-
spectively so and so. It is vouched for, let us say, by A,
who tells truth five times in six, and by B who tells truth
seven times in eleven ; while it is contradicted by Y and
Z,who tell the truth respectively only once in three times
and once in five times; what is the likelihood of its
truth, assuming its antecedent probability to be one in
ten? I do not say that problems of this type are very
useful; for the measures of veracity are not such as we
recognize in the actual world. Such problems may be
compared to those mechanical ones which are given in
college examination papers, where we read of perfectly
rigid rods, perfectly uniform substances, frictionless sur-
faces, and the like: in one case which I can remember
(since I was one of the victims of the problem), we
were invited to deal with a man whose perfectly smooth
spherical head was surmounted by a conical hat of infi-
nite height! But such problems ma)' indicate true prin-
ciples; and in cases where we can form a fair general
idea of the likelihood of a certain conclusion being right
so far as each of several points of evidence is concerned,
we may infer also, in a general way, the likelihood of
its being right when all those several points are consid-
ered together.
Now, imagine a community of a thousand persons,
each one of whom is invited to decide on some one ques-
tion of considerable difficulty; and let us suppose that
the chance of each one giving the right decision may be
averaged at one in ten. When all the results are col-
lected together, it appears, let us say, that an immense
majority agree in giving one answer, the rest giving
either a different answer or declining to answer at all,
on the ground that the question is too difficult for
them to decide. Unquestionably in such a case as this,
the opinion of most persons (common consent again)
would be that the decision of the bulk of the community
of a thousand folk was probably right. It is on an
assumption of this sort that government by majorities
depends; and at a first view it seems right enough. But
what are the actual facts? The chance of a right decision
in each case is (on the average) the same as that of draw-
ing one white ball from a vase containing ten balls, one
only of which is white. If one were told that among
the thousand balls severally drawn from a thousand such
vases, nine hundred were of one color — unnamed — would
one infer that they must probably be white? Would
one not on the contrary feel absolutely certain that what-
ever color they may be, white they assuredly are not?
A mathematician, at any rate, would so conclude, for he
knows how overwhelming (practically infinite) are the
odds against more than about one-tenth of the drawn
balls being of the color which appears but once among
ten balls in each vase. If all the thousand were an-
nounced as of one color — and this, according to believers
in the immortality of the soul, would correspond best
with the all but uniform opinion of mankind on that
question — the chance that that color would be further
announced to be white, would be one in a number rep-
resented by one followed by a thousand noughts. If the
whole space within our sidereal universe were enlarged a
million fold, and so enlarged, were filled with minute
balls closely packed and so small that a million of
them would, together, not be discernible with the most
powerful microscope; and if among all these but one
were white, the chance of a white ball being drawn
from each one of all the thousand vases would be many
millions of times less than that of drawing that single
white ball at random from that practical infinity of balls
of other colors.
Not less unlikely than this, — and therefore infinite^'
unlikely, — would it be that a thousand persons would
independently agree in giving a right decision on a ques-
tion where the probability of each concluding right
would be as one in ten. And be it remembered that
this chance of being right, though small in itself, is
great compared with the chance of being right on any
question of real difficulty, such, for example, as that of
a future life. And on this supremely difficult question
not a thousand, but, we are told, all the thousands of
millions who have ever thought earnestly about it have
been in agreement. It is infinitely more unlikely, then,
that their common opinion can be right than even that
from the thousand vases of our illustration the white
ball should in every case have been drawn.
In passing, I may mention that Friar Bacon was the
first, so far as I know, to point out the fallacy underly-
ing the argument from common consent. " With all
our strength," he says (in his Opus Majus, A. D. 1267),
" we must prefer reason to custom, and the opinions of
the wise and good to the perceptions of the vulgar; and
we must not use the triple argument, — that is to say, this
238
THE OPEN COURT.
has been laid down, this is usual, this has been common,
therefore it is to be held by. For the very opposite con-
clusion does much better follow from the premises. And
though the whole world be possessed by these causes of
error, let us freely hear opinions contrary to established
usage."
It is essential to this argument as to the drawing of
correct inferences from common consent, that the matter
in question should involve some difficulty, though not
necessarily any great difficulty. All men agree that the
sun shines, and all men are right, for the shining of the
sun is obvious; but in Shakespeare's time all men agreed
that the sun is fire, insomuch that he says " doubt that
the sun is fire," as he would say, doubt that you live and
move; but because that is a matter of less simplicity
common consent should have been looked on with sus-
picion, and, as a matter of fact, we know now that the
sun, whatsoever he may be, is assuredly not fire. In
like manner with hundreds of matters which everyone
who possesses the ordinary senses seems able to deal
with, so simple do they appear; yet the common opinion
about them, where there has been any real difficulty," has
invariably been common error.
For it is by no means necessary, as I have said, that
great difficulty should be involved in a question to render
universal consent respecting it decisive evidence of error;
but in such cases we must recognize the existence of
some circumstance or circumstances by which opinion
has been biased. It is practically impossible that all the
members of a community of a thousand should arrive at
a correct conclusion on some question where the chance
for each deciding right was so great as nine in ten. If
they all agreed we should have to recognize some bias
one way or another, and to decide independently whether
that bias was such as to be toward truth or toward error.
It will hardly be denied that the question of the pos-
sible immortality of man is one of considerable difficulty.
The often vaunted fact that even the most cautious men
of science will not pronounce immortality to be abso-
lutely impossible, proves that the matter is not one to be
decided in an instant by average minds. If, then, it is
true that average minds have, with scarcely an exception-
pronounced in favor of the doctrine of the soul's immor,
tality, we must infer at least a very high degree of prob-
ability against the doctrine, if not absolute certainty that
the doctrine is erroneous. Unless, indeed, we can rec-
ognize direct evidence in favor of the doctrine, or some
reason to believe that opinions would be biased, and in
the direction of the truth.
But we know that the only evidence on which the
doctrine has ever been based is that derived from dreams
about the dead, which were regarded, very naturally, as
indicating the continued existence of the departed in
some shadowy or spiritual form. We know now that
this evidence has no such meaning as was attributed to
it during the childhood of races, and is still attributed
to it by children and persons of weak mind.
The evidence of revelation can, of course, not be
cited here, because the doctrines that there must be a
God of such a nature as to take personal interest in man,
and that he must have revealed his will to man, belong
to those respecting which common opinion has given its
most decisive, and therefore its almost certainly erro-
neous verdict.
As regards bias, there can be no doubt that, at the
time when men think most of the question of a future
life, viz., when some beloved one has passed awa}', most
men desire to entertain the thought that the dead still
live in another form, though when they reason about
their hope (the few who are able to) they can picture no
form of future life in which they could wish their loved
ones to be renewed. There is certainly no reason for
supposing that bias in this case would be toward truth
rather than toward error.
When the most earnest believers in a future life give
their reasons for the faith that is in them, we feel still
more strongly that such fanciful reasoning cannot be
expected to guide men to the truth. I have before me
a sermon by the Rev. Mr. Brooks, Doctor of Divinity,
in Boston, in which he speaks of a man immediately
after death. " That man is dead," he says; " what is it
that has come? A minute ago I was talking with him,
he was speaking to me of the loves and dreams and
imaginings with which I have been familiar, as I have
known him these forty years. Now that is stopped.
Shall I believe that an end has come to that vitality?
The spiritual life is in the powers of the soul, not in the
accident which linked them in association with this body
in which the physical change has taken place. Shall I
believe that they have ceased because it has ceased to be
their minister?" To which he answers: "No, because
what has passed away is merely the bodily life, not the
inner life with its thoughts and emotions." He does not
deem it necessary to show that the power of conceiving
thoughts or feeling emotions is not as essentially a quality
of that which has been destroyed by death, as the power
of making fine cloth is a quality of a weaving-machine,
and presumably brought to an end by death as the weav-
ing powers of the machine by its destruction. What he
says of the man might equally be said, and with about
as much reason, of the machine. " A minute ago that
machine was weaving beautiful cloth, now it has
done its last work, and all its parts will presently be
applied to other uses. Shall I believe that the powers
of working charming patterns it possessed so short a
time since are gone because its mere material structure
is to be destroyed ? Never; for only the merest acci-
dent linked those powers with the machinery!" No
answer is needed to one argument any more than to the
other. The destroyed machine lives no longer as a
THE OPEN COURT.
239
piece of mechanism; it can never more produce the deli-
cate textures or the charming patterns which it pro'duced
when it existed as a machine. It will live only in its prod-
ucts, direct and indirect. And in like manner, it seems
reasonable to believe (though none can say it has been
proved) the dead exist no longer as beings capable of
feeling or expressing emotions. They live only in their
work, — in the influences, direct and indirect, which they
have produced on those around them during life, or on
those who are to come hereafter. This, at any rate, —
setting aside the rejected evidence of dreams and visions,
and the more than doubtful evidence of revelation,
so-called, which is full of errors in less difficult matters,
— is the conclusion to which reasoning points as the
most probable. Seeing that common consent points to
the contrary doctrine, we may sav that the true argu-
ment from common consent proves, almost to demon-
stration, that the doctrine of the soul's immortality is one
of the common errors into which common consent is
bound to fall.
THE MODERN SKEPTIC.
BY JOHN BURROUGHS.
Part I.
A recent writer upon skepticism describes the skep-
tic as generally a " malcontent," not only in religion,
but in politics and in society. "He is the personification
of the ancient belief regarding the souls of the unburied
dead," that is, he goes wandering about homeless and
disconsolate. But few honest skeptics, I imagine, will
see themselves in this portrait. The religious skeptics
of to-day are a very large class, larger than ever before,
and they are by no means the restless and unhappy set
they are here described. On the contrary they are
among the most hopeful, intelligent, patriotic, upright
and wisely conservative of our citizens. Let us see;
probably four-fifths of the literary men in this country
and in Great Britain, and a still larger per cent, on
the continent, are what would be called skeptics; a
large proportion of journalists and editors are skeptics;
half the lawyers, more than half the doctors, a large
per cent, of the teachers, a large per cent, of the busi-
ness men, almost all the scientific men, and a great
many orthodox clergymen, if they were to avow their
real convictions, would confess to some shade of skepti-
cism or religious unbelief. They find the creeds in
which they were nurtured no longer credible. Indeed,
there are but few great names in literature, in science or
philosophy for a hundred years, that could not be con-
victed of some shade of religious skepticism — skepticism
about the miracles, the sacraments, vicarious atonement,
original sin, or some other dogma.
The lawyers are probably less inclined to skepticism
than the doctors, because the legal mind Ls closer akin
to the theological mind ; it has chiefly to do with arbi-
trary and artificial questions and distinctions, and is
brought less under the influence of natural causes than
that of the medical practitioner. The lawyer falls into
personal and exclusive views; he makes the cause of his
client his own; and his who'.e training is to beget a
habit of mind quite the opposite of the scientific. The
physicians were the first to discredit witchcraft and to
write against it, but the lawyers cherished and defended
the belief nearly as long as did the clergy. The legal-
ism, too, which has invaded Christianity, and which is
such a repulsive feature in certain of the creeds, especially
that of Calvinism, is the work of the attorney habit of
mind.
The writer referred to is correct, however, in saying
that " faith is a living force mostly in active tempera-
ment-."' There is less skepticism among the farmers
and among the laboring classes generally, except may
be here and there in large cities, and very little among
the women. Women are slow to reason, but quick to
feel and to believe, and they cannot face the chill of the
great cosmic out of doors without being clad in some
tangible faith. The mass of the people are indifferent
rather than skeptical. They are undoubtedly drifting
away from the creeds of their fathers, but they have not
yet entirely lost sight of them. " The various modes of
worship which prevailed in the Roman world," says
Gibbon, " were all considered by the people as equally
true; by the philosopher as equally false, and by the
magistrate as equally useful." This is probably very
much the case amid all nations, at all times.
Men of large action, too, generals, statesmen, sea
captains, explorers, usually share the religion of their
contemporaries. Frederick the Great is perhaps the
most notable exception to this rule. A popular religion
is always definite and practical, clothes itself in concrete
forms, and appeals to the active temperament. The
man of action hss little time for reflection, to return
upon himself and entertain intellectual propositions.
Faith is an earlier and, in many ways, a healthier act of
the mind than reason, because faith leads to action,
while reason makes us hesitate and put oft" a decision.
The church has always had trouble with philosophers
and physicians, with men who wanted to know the
reason of things and trace the connection of cause and
effect. There was little skepticism in Greece until after
the sophists appeared, the critics, men of ideas, who
directed a free play of thought upon all objects and sub-
jects, a type of mind which begat the philosophers of
Athens, but not the great poets and artists. They came
earlier, when there was more faith and less reason in
Greece.
In fact, the great days of Greece "Were not when its
head was the clearest, but when its patriotism and re-
ligion were the most fervent. As the heart cools the
head clears. Those great emotional uprisings, those
religious enthusiasms, which come in time to all nations,
are not days of right reason, nor of correct science, still
240
THE OPEN COURT.
they are the periods of history we like best to dwell
upon.
It is always easier to believe than to deny. Our minds
are naturally affirmative; it is not till the second or third
thought that doubt begins. Belief is so vital and neces-
sary that one would say the tendency was made strong
at the perpetual risk of extra belief and superstition ; it
were better to bel'eve too much than not enough.
Hence mankind have always believed too much, as if to
make sure that the anchor hold. To believe just enough,
to free his mind from all cant and from all illusion, and
see things just as in themselves they are, is the aim of
the philosopher or of the true skeptic.
Men's minds are nearly always under a spell of some
kind. What a spell the mind of Europe was under during
the Crusades! What a foolish and misdirected enthusi-
asm this uprising seems to us, whose minds are under
some other spell, say the scientific spell. What a spell the
same mind was under for centuries with reference to
witchcraft, even such a man as Sir Matthew Hale be-
lieving in it and defending; it. Here was an astute legal
mind, and an incorruptible judge, a man who could sift
evidence and detect fraud, and yet the spell of his times
in regard to witchcraft was upon him, and he could not
escape it. The mind reasons in such cases, but it
reasons inside of a magical circle, the bounds of which
it cannot pass, cannot see. Most of us reason inside of
a circle, when we reason at all, with reference to our
religion; we are under its spell, its illusion. What a
spell the mind of Christendom has been under with
reference to miracles — could not get or see beyond the
magic circle. The Catholic mind is still under this
spell. What a spell the mind of the world was under
in the third and fourth centuries with reference to magic,
and in later times with reference to astrology, and
alchemy and demoniac possessions! The skeptic sees
how faith or belief tends perpetually to fulfill itself.
If I believed in ghosts I should doubtless see ghosts.
People always have. Those who believe in spiritism
have wonderful things to relate; but to a cool, unbiased
person not one scrap of evidence is forthcoming. In a
credulous age miracles happen, but never in a scientific
one. The evidences of the popular religion are evi-
dences only to those who are already convinced. The
man who believes in prayer — his prayers are answered;
the more sincere the belief the more sure the answer.
Sincerity of belief is of itself a blessing and makes us
stronger. Faith-cures, of which we are just now hear-
ing, have their root in this principle, as do also the power
of charms, amulets, symbols, etc. Curses, anathemas,
tend to fulfill themselves when the imagination is im-
pressed by them. Think what power for mischief must
have resided in the curses of the church when men's
minds were under the theological spell; excommunica-
tion made man an outcast in the universe. The things
we fear, no matter how imaginary, stamp our lives.
Of the things we love the same is true. Plutarch tells
of a certain bird which the ancients used to look upon
to cure jaundice — this was an early form of faith-cure.
The opposite effect, or faitli-kill, is related with regard to
a bird in Ceylon, called the devil-bird. This bird makes
a doleful wailing by night, and as it is seldom seen, a
dread superstition has gathered about it. The natives
have a fixed belief that whoever sees the bird will surely
die shortly after, and, as a matter of fact, this usually
proves true. The native is so frightened and so over-
powered by his faith in the evil omen that he refuses
food, goes into a decline and soon dies. Thus faith kills
and faith cures. Faith in your physician is often worth
more to you than his medicines; a soldier's faith in his
general doubles or trebbles his force.
The skeptic sees the benefits of a strong, active faith,
irrespective of the object toward which it is directed.
Faith in one's self and in the justice of one's cause is
always half the battle. Can there be any doubt in the
mind of the disinterested observer that the influence of
such a man, say, as Mr. Moody, is more beneficial than
the influence of such an orator as Mr. Ingersoll ? Mr.
Ingersoll appeals to reason and to common sense, and
the victory seems easily on his side. He espouses the
cause of the world against the church and the priests; and
while the church and the priests suffer, no man is bene-
fitted. It is all down-hill work with the witty orator;
it is what we like to hear and we go with him 1 aturally
and easily. It is all up-hill work with Mr. Moody;
he rebukes pride and sensuality; he calls the worldling
to a higher life; he seeks to awaken aspirations toward
a higher and nobler good, and in the growth of char-
acter, the man who leads us the difficult way, who per-
suades us to do what we don't want to do, what our
pride and ease and self-indulgence stand in the way of
our doing, is a better man than he who takes us with
the current of our natural desires and tendencies. Greater
things are possible, nobler and more disinterested lives,
from Mr. Moody's point of view than from Mr.
Ingersoll's. It is not for nothing that we have had
so long thundered into our ears the benefits of be-
lief and the dangers of skepticism and doubt. And
it is not because the things we have been asked to
believe are in themselves true, but because the very act
of belief is in itself wholesome and sets the current
going, while doubt paralyzes and leads to stagnation.
But how shall we believe a thing unless we know it to
be true? Ah, there is the rub! But man in all ages
has been the victim of delusions, and the gain to him
has been that they have kept him going; that they have
kept him working and striving. The great periods
in history have been periods of strong faith, of serious
affirmation, not of denial, nor yet of reason. Yet I
would not say that faith alone has ever made a people
THE OPEN COURT.
241
or an individual great. Spain, as a nation, probably
has as much faith as ever, and yet how is she fallen
from the three hundred years ago. But faith is more
frequently the parent of great deeds than reason or de-
nial. From the point of view of the nation, faith is best.
There can be no strong feeling of nationality without
a certain narrowness and unreasonableness. The philoso-
phy of Athens no doubt weakened the feeling of nation-
ality. They weakened the faith in the nation's gods; they
had reference to universal ends. A proud, intense, ex-
clusive nation like the Hellenes, had a kind of faith in
itself and in its privileges and destiny, which, however
conducive to the growth and strength of the nation, could
not stand the light of reason and universal knowledge.
PSYCHIATRY, OR PSYCHOLOGICAL MEDICINE.
BY S. V. CLEVEN'GER, M.D.
Part II.
In institutions where the care of patients is not the
principal object or where the management has not
profited by the experience of those who have scientifi-
cally studied how to obtain the best results, resort is still
had to restraint apparatus and mistaken means of reduc-
ing refractory cases to obedience. Among these may
be named the " crib," bedstrap, fingerless gloves, hand-
less sleeve=, muffs, belts, manacles, chains, sacks, cami-
soles, buckled straps, leathern masks, pear-shaped frames
and gags, wicker baskets, suspended boxes, the restraint
chair, the dark chamber, padded room, the rotary ma-
chine, the suspended seat, the hanging mat, the hollow
wheel, the swing, the douche and the surprise bath.
Scientific inquiry has led to the abandonment of the
majority of these, and the substitution for them of more
intelligent attendance. Some asylums adopt the extreme
of absolute non-restraint by appliances of any kind, and
while this ultra-abandonment may not be judicious in
all cases, it is better by far than to allow resort to
be had to the mildest restraint instruments, except under
the personal supervision of the good asylum physician.
It has, also, been proven that faithful medical atten-
tion to patients during the day time not only prevents
the hideous disorder and noises associated with the
name of Bedlam, but insures sleep to the turbulent, and
otherwise sleepless, far better than routine drugging at
night to quiet, for the nonce, the shrieking maniac.
It would require more time than we can spare to
review the development of the modern scientific asylum
in its working details, but we may sum up the results
in the statement that the patient has therein the best
chance for his restoration to reason, and under all cir-
cumstances is ensured kind treatment.
Avoiding the dry details of the evolution of scien-
tific methods of research into nervous and mental diseases,
a survey of what is being attempted in such fields
might be interesting:
The study is divided into clinical and pathological,
and requires the co-operation of trained minds. One
set of observers records (roughly speaking) all that
the insane person does, and the course of his malady.
Another carefully examines the healthy and diseased
structures of those who die insane; still others scrutinize
the bodily condition of the living patient as to his eye
sight, hearing and other senses; search is made for any
impairment of motility, and through what can be
gained from friends, and sometimes the patient himself,
less obvious diseases. The ancestry of each case is care-
fully investigated, for heredity plays an active part in
mental decrepitude.
Acting under the advice of these observers the
attending physician prescribes, and adds his portion to
the written statements. The completed histories are
grouped and studied by all these physicians with
especial reference to whatever revelations each student
may obtain. The fact that by this inductive process
numerous otherwise unattainable truths have been dis-
covered in the domain of mental pathology, should
arrest the attention of every psychological student
whatever his bias might be. During the last fifty
years it has been ascertained by simple inspection of
recorded observations that certain delusions, illusions
and hallucinations accompany certain well-defined
diseases, but before describing a few of these it is best to
define what these mental or sense aberrations are.
Spitzka's terse phraseology is worth quoting:
An insane delusion is " a faulty idea growing out of
a weakening or perversion of the logical apparatus."
Delusions are divisible into systematized or specific and
unsystematized or general.
"An hallucination is the perception of an object as a
real presence without a real presence to justify the per-
ception." In other words, the hallucinated person sees,
feels, hears, tastes or smells unrealities.
"An illusion is the perception of an object actually
present, but in characters which that object does not
really possess." The difference between the hallucina-
tion and the illusion is that the former is wholly with-
out apparent basis, and the illusion is perverted percep-
tion.
A side comment may account for much in scientific
papers that dissatisfies the average reader. The real
physiological psychologist has waded through so much
and has acquired justifiably positive convictions upon
many subjects through his untiring zeal, that he becomes
incomprehensible in his ways of thinking to even those
whom he would willingly instruct. Step by step he
has reached what to him are aphorisms, and when he
presents the bare results without the qualifications that
would be taken for granted by a co-delver the sciolist
dissents from his conclusions as mere dicta, or worse
than that, readily assents with "any fool knows that."
242
THE OPEN COURT
Comically enough many of the most laborious scientific
explorations have resulted in justifying some popular
estimate of facts, though the thinker has painstakingly
determined the truth, where the average individual has
accepted it through tradition, or because consonant with
his own limited experience.
It has been ascertained, by the means mentioned,
that when an almost complete inversion of character
takes place; for example, when the temperate, econom-
ical, moral, cautious business man becomes boisterous,
convivial, immoral and a spendthrift, and claims to be
practically worth millions, or when the theologically
biased individual asserts himself as the Almighty, or the
student arrogates to himself outrageous mental superi-
ority— all of which the French alienists generically
class as dclire des grandeurs^ the probability is in favor
of a diagnosis of -paretic dementia, which may be or
may not be associated with a blunted touch sense and
defective motility such as a staggering gait. It has
startled physicians to be convinced that the physical
conditions, the changes that occur in the brain in this
disease are fully as well, if not better understood, by
alienists than those that take place in pneumonia.
Even the politician doctor, at the head of the aver-
age American asylum, will glibly tell you that unequally
dilated pupils, a peculiar drawling speech and delusions
of grandeur evidence paretic dementia, and that the
duration is usually three \ ears before death, which
usually occurs during one of the maniacal outbreaks or
convulsions that interlude the disease.
But that same political doctor is ignorant of the fact
that certain invariable mechanical causes precede such
phenomena. He does not know, nor does he care
to know, that the convulsions had been preceded by a
plugging of the minute vessels of the brain, and that
the maniacal outbreaks were accompanied with, if they
did not depend upon, an arrest of the blood circulation.
Thus it has been determined that certain peculiar
mental conditions point to gout, rheumatism or syphilis,
as causes; and these are the most curable of all the
psychoses.
When a patient has undertaken a peculiar self-muti-
lation, imagines that his friends desire to poison him,
and has delusions of marital infidelity it is in the great
majority of cases alcoholic insanity.
Religious ecstasy is usually associated with erotism,
and when such a patient kneels pleadingly to the
official, if he be well-informed, he will know that such
lunatic is one of the most treacherous and murderous
he may meet.
Insanity apparently depending upon lung consump-
tion (known as phthisical insanity) is often diagnosed
as such through the peculiar suspiciousness of the
patient, who usually declares that his relatives are try-
ing to steal from or to murder him. Similar delusions
may follow neck wounds and sunstroke.
Melancholic conditions are most frequently asso-
ciated with quantitative or qualitative blood deficiencies;
maniacal states, per contra, with the other extreme < f
superabundancy of blood in the head, and yet marked
exceptions to these rules occur which the alienist looks
to the chemical physiologist to explain. A peculiar
mental deterioiation is caused by a fatty degeneration of
the brain arteries.
A sudden occurrence of idea confusion, or a similar
invasion of excessive stupidity, known as confusional
and as stuporous insanities can be predicted as recover-
able in most cases.
When any patient recovers weight without mental
improvement, the prognosis is unfavorable, but where
the return of mentality is accompanied by increase in
flesh it is favorable.
Senile dementia is characterized by penuriousness
which may reach a degree that will cause millionaires
to starve themselves. They are especially susceptible
to undue influence in the matter of property disposition,
though very suspicious of those who were the subjects
of their affection in their healthy periods.
Memories (as Ch. Ribot prefers to designate what
is usually called memory) fade away inversely as
acquired; for example, in old age, and its insanity,
olden events are recalled with readiness, while recent
events are frequently obliterated from the mind.
In some head injuries and nervous derangements,
particularly where there is an imperfect circulation in
the brain, special memories may be lost, and most com-
monly for proper nouns, then common nouns, verbs,
adjectives are next in order liable to be forgotten, while
expletives are usually recalled and pronounced as readily
and more frequently than before.
Certain definite parts of the brain are known to cen-
tralize certain functions, not in the phrenological sense,
but in a way that enables the modern surgeon, under
the direction of the physician versed in this localization,
to cut down upon certain regions of the brain to remove
organic troubles even where there were ho external evi-
dences of the difficulty.
Thus the speech faculty, visual memory, and auditory
memory occupy defined portions of the brain, and when
these places are diseased, the ability to speak, or to read,
or to understand language may be separately or con-
jointly lost, "while sight and hearing, as senses, are unim-
paired.
These are but a very small portion of the results of
the alienist's studies. Huxley illustrates the proper
method of studying man objectively, as a vertebrate, by
asking you to imagine the student as a superior sort of
creature who has visited the earth from the moon, and
who finds homo among other genera, dissects and experi-
ments with him, as he does the other animals, and being
free from bias arrives at certain conclusions regarding
THE OPEN COURT.
2 43
his mechanism. The psychological physiologist with
the aid of microscopy may be compared with the elec-
trical engineer from some other planet who studies out
the subterranean and aerial telegraph, telephone and
lighting lines he finds in a mundane city, to determine
their connections, centers and uses. The higher animals,
including man, haye an innumerable lot of nerve con-
nections running just as definitely and symmetrically
between bodily points, and subserving as diverse func-
tions as the fingers or the facial features are definite and
have uses.
Morel's dictum that "the brain is the seat of insanity,
but not always the seat of its cause," is based upon the
fact that while the brain is the organ of the mind, the
end and aim of both brain and mind is to correlate
bodily functions and serve the purposes of the body.
The central telegraph office as the collecting and dis-
tributing point for messages need not be the location of
a difficulty that may shut off its work. The branching
lines may be destroyed by storms, or the chief industries
of a metropolis having ceased, the main office for tele-
grams cannot receive or transmit what is not sent there.
The physiological psychologist latterly recognizes
the co-dependence of bodily organs and that superiority
of function is purely relative, just as in sociological
matters the harmonious working of the whole depends
upon each part doing its duty.
In the preceding, an attempt has been made to con-
vey some idea of the enormous work that is being done
toward the mitigation of insanity and to obtain knowl-
edge of the mental processes in health and disease. Of
course, in this paper hut a feeble idea has been imparted
of the actual operations of the well-equipped, thoroughly
scientific insane asylum. Nothing short of a residence
in both could acquaint one with the astounding differ-
ences that exist between the ordinary political asylum
and the many well-managed European hospitals for the
insane, such as the West Riding, England; Morning-
side, Scotland; Dublin, Ireland; Charenton, France;
Christiania, Norway ; Roeskild, Denmark; Stockholm,
Sweden; Gratz, Munich, and Wurzburg, Germany.
Illinoisians will learn with pride that the Eastern
Illinois Hospital for the Insane at Kankakee, by alien-
ists the world over, is deservedly classed with the insti-
tutions mentioned.
PRESENT AIMS.
BY ARTHUR R. KIMBALL.
Humanity has ever been burdened with cares and
perplexed with doubts; but as constantly in- mankind
has resided a vague intuition, that, near at hand, lies the
satisfaction of all its wants, could only the open sesame
be pronounced. When man first discovers in himself
the thirst of the soul and hunger of the intellect, nature
teaches him that spiritual and intellectual pabulum exists
somewhere for the support of these higher cravings.
He feels sure that the doors will be opened if he may
only knock at the portals. But liozv heart and under-
standing are destined to be upbuilt — the long process of
experience and gradual development — he does not com-
prehend. Nature teaches him that there is a proper
and legitimate satisfaction for all his longings, and so
he imagines if he could but dine at the table of the
gods, perfection would burst upon him. Experience,
alone, schools him in the long spiritual evolution of as-
similation and application in uses.
When the nations knew but a small portion of the
earth, they expected some undiscovered clime to solve
this problem for them, therefore they wandered from
place to place. Until after the discovery of the New
World there was a broadspread expectation of finding
in nature's material conditions the new paradise, en-
dowed with fountains of perpetual youth. But through
many different channels experience impressed the truth
upon man that his entire nature cannot be put off with
childish playthings. Indeed, experience has always
been teaching this truth, in a greater or smaller way;
but now it has been tested on a most gigantic scale,
with all the resources of the world at hand, and failure
has resulted — failure as swift and speedy as ever before.
Therefore, because earth does not, of itself and alone,
fulfil the higher needs of humanity, a conception has
more or less prevailed that these wants cannot be satis-
fied on earth. Thus arise the two points between which
man commonly chooses. He may deny the good in the
sensible, and look to a transmundane existence alone
to fulfill life, or he may turn to the actual, in a newer
and higher sense, to find his heaven there. These are
the debating grounds of to-day, and although compre-
hensive thought will unqualifiedly deny neither, yet it
can but see that one is the land where pygmies struggle,
the other the wrestling-place of the giants. Mature
thought may not doubt post-mortem existence, but it
cannot accept this for the great immortality — the goal of
Christianity; it does not feel itself asked to believe that
by any sudden magic, is ignorance to be turned into
wisdom and folly into happiness; moreover, it holds
that Christianity bids us live and work in the moment.
Faith, to it, means no visionary forelooking, but an
actual trust and belief in the all good of the present.
Nevertheless, it looks to a broad future of progress and
the onward march of humanity, and the individual, it
conceives, must proceed by various states and conditions.
And this is what characterizes our present age; this is
the immortality as derived from practice, and separate
from the current theoretic immortality ; and to embody
such immortal life, it is evident that every element of
the broad universe must be preserved — both the stnsible
and spiritual, and that which shall bind them together.
244
THE OPEN COURT.
On these principles does modern activity proceed.
It has in view the temple of progress, approached not
by one way alone, but by paths centering to it from
every direction.
Science and poetry have found, at length, the beauty
of the commonplace. Men have more than intellectually
conceived this — they have begun to live it.
The universal is the aim of science, but science now
believes that this can be found in the particulars alone.
Bitter experience becomes robed in the garb of poetry
when we recognize this truth ; for things must first be
learned in their special relation of contrast and relativity,
in order to be known as general and absolute. So duty
and pain must exist as the actuating causes of relative
experience; love, of the absolute. And in our lives
both kinds of experience are parallel, and so duty and
love run along together in heart and mind, and lend
each other strength.
Thus in our own age is human force at work — work-
ing and waiting for the final movement of organization
which shall conclude the struggle in the blind experience
of attaining, and open to clear vision a life of experience
in uses and resultant new developments. Then will
dawn upon us a new life, as distinct and different from
the old as starlight from the world of sunbeams. This
for our future; but in our present, we still work on,
and find a not unmixed happiness in discovering and
striking each separate note and chord of experience, un-
til the Grand Master comes to make harmony for us
out of the works of our weary fingers.
EGOITY.
BY EMMA Tl'TTLE.
"The absolute loneliness of each human soul in its interior experiences is
the most awful fact of this human life. Alone we enter the earth, and alone
we depart from it. So much of our living as is known to eye and ear, our kin,
our lovers, our fellow-men possess; but it is not much."
And it is well ; our unsuspected sorrows,
Our wearing struggles and our sad defeats
Were none the lighter for us could we shadow
With dark admixture lives all blooms and sweets,
Frail finite love is varying and short-sighted,
And finite pity cannot comprehend
The depth and dimness of a soul's endeavors,
What matter if it censure or defend!
Friends we know best, alas, they fail to read us
Almost as those who know us not at all ;
And yet we blame not knowing all too truly
Souls dwell in unapproachable enthrall.
Intangibly do human passions fret us;
Sometimes maliciously, but oftener far
In heedless vacant ignorance, not knowing
Where thorns are mangling, nor if thorns there are.
O, soldier soul! In life's unceasing battle
No rest from action, no discharge, no truce!
Winning or fainting, failing or exulting
Thy powers are thine alone for fullest use.
Love may essay to aid, Hate to destroy thee,
Still thou must fight in solitary strength
Each hour, each moment, even to that ending
Where days and hours grow infinite in length.
But in the lulls we dream of golden ages,
Holy transparencies of peace and rest,
When Time, which must eventually be tender
Shall take the ice-n.asks off from face and breast.
Unlanguaged, unexplained but comprehended
Who, then, will care to utter plaint or moan,
Feelinsr the long deep loneliness is broken?
All this lies past the tabulated stone.
DOWN AND UP.
BY ANNA OLCOTT COMMELIN.
Low in the vale the mists hang cold and gray,
The sparkling, winding river lost to view,
The trees, the oaks and maples that I knew
Shrouded in film of darkness all the day :
Vapors and clouds alone before my eyes,
Where, at the mountain's base, the hamlet lies.
But up, far up, where rises peak on peak,
In solemn grandeur stretching to the sky,
Where tower Franconia's stately summits high,
A glow from Heaven shows to those who seek ;
Transfiguring the rugged mountain's height,
Crowning its purpled shades with sunset light.
Down in the dusty street I hear the sound
Of discord, and the tread of tired feet,
Weary and fevered with the pavement's heat,
And all the restless toil that make's life's round :
Like monochrome the outlook, stone on stone,
Vista unvaried, greets the eye alone.
But up from window high, a world I know
Of budding elms and swaying branches green,
And myriad interlacing boughs between
Fair openings that the blue of Heaven show:
No sound save chirp and song of happy bird,
And winged fluttering aloft is heard.
Once, in a darkened room, in dusk of day,
From mullioneu window came a beam of light
Falling alone on marble statue white,
Bathing its noble face in sunset ray.
In golden glory on the shaded room
Serene it shone above the twilight gloom,
Like soul that knows the troubled scenes below,
But dwells aloft in Heaven's celestial glow!
THE OPEN COURT.
!45
The Open Court.
A FORTNIOHTLY JOURNAL.
Published every other Thursday at i6g to 175 La Salle Street | Nixon
Building', corner Monroe Street, by
THE
OPEN
COURT
PUBLISHING
COMPANY
B. F. UNDERWOOD,
Editor and Manager.
SARA
A. UNDERWOOD,
Associate Editor.
The leading object of The Open Court is lo continue
the work of The Index, that is, to establish religion on the
basis of Science and in connection therewith it will present the
Monistic philosophy. The founder of this journal believes this
will furnish to others what it has to him, a religion which
embraces all that is true and good in the religion that was taught
in childhood to them and him.
Editorially, Monism and Agnosticism, so variously denned,
will be treated not as antagonistic systems, but as positive and
negative aspects of the one and only rational scientific philosophy,
which, the editors hold, includes elements of truth common to
all religions, without implying either the validity of theological
assumption, or any limitations of possible knowledge, except such
as the conditions of human thought impose.
The Open Court, while advocating morals and rational
religious thought on the firm basis of Science, will aim to substi-
tute for unquestioning credulity intelligent inquiry, for blind faith
rational religious views, for unreasoning bigotry a liberal spirit,
tor sectarianism a broad and generous humanitarianism. With
this end in view, this journal will submit all opinion to the crucial
test of reason, encouraging the independent discussion by able
thinkers of the great moral, religious, social and philosophical
problems which are engaging the attention of thoughtful minds
and upon the solution of which depend largely the highest inter-
ests of mankind.
While Contributors are expected to express freelv their own
views, the Editors are responsible only for editorial matter.
Terms of subscription three dollars per year in advance,
postpaid to any part of the United States, and three dollars and
fifty cents to foreign countries comprised in the postal union.
All communications intended for and all business letters
relating to The Open Court should be addressed to B. F.
Underwood, P. O. Drawer F, Chicago, Illinois, to whom should
be made payable checks, postal orders and express orders.
THURSDAY, JUNE 9, 1SS7.
QUID PRO QUO.
The Inter-State Commerce Law is doubtless defect-
ive in some of its provisions, otherwise there would not
be so man)' protests against it, but the second section of
that law, which forbids the granting of free passes to
favored individuals by railroad presidents or directors,
strikes us as a just one, and one which is in a greater de-
gree than dreamed of by its framers a progressive move
in the direction of ethical reform.
One of the strongest objections made by those who
have given the subject careful study, against the indis-
criminate giving of charity, is that such gifts tend to en-
courage pauperism by discouraging self-respecting inde-
pendence in individuals.
But if acceptance of needed aid for which no return
can be reasonably expected by those who give it, insidi-
ously lowers morally the struggling poverty stricken
classes, how can the acceptance of gifts by those in no
pecuniary need, where there are no special ties of love
or friendship between the giver and receiver, be less
demoralizing in effect, even though the classes whose
members are thus benefited may be the so-called
"higher?"
Until the days when ethics and religion shall be es-
tablished on a scientific basis, doubtless there will con-
tinue to be more or less of this degrading bribe taking
and "tip" receiving, for such in truth is all acceptance
of favors for which no honorable reason can be given.
Let us briefly consider some phases of this demoral-
izing habit that we may the more easily observe its
morally hurtful tendency.
Taking the free pass system to begin with: To
whom have free passes mainly been given? To the
hard-working, low-waged employes of the roads? To
the very poor whom necessity requires to make journeys
in the interest of duty, affection or bread-winning? No,
not to these, for often by the grim laws of railroad cor-
porations have sick, sad, disheartened and penniless
men and women been ruthlessly put off the train far from
their destination at no matter what outcome of heart-
break, of personal loss or dispair, because they have
not possessed the means to pay the full amount of fare.
But the recipients of the railroad companies' bounty
have usually been people abundantly able to pay, promi-
nent politicians, persons of high social standing posses-
sing in some way great public influence, or wealthy cap-
italists; none of them in need of charity, but amply able
to supply every want and to pay their own traveling ex-
penses— persons to whom the free pass is only a " cour-
tesy." A " courtesy," however, which both parties
vaguely understand is to be repaid by some favorable
expression of opinion or complimentary vote in case a
time comes when the company or one of its directors,
whether in the right or wrong, needs the influence of
such expressed opinion or helpful vote. The " courtesy "
then, divested of sophistry, is really a bribe, a mortgage
on the freedom of the acceptor's judgment in any case
in which this road or its officers may in future be con-
cerned.
Since railroad corporations, in order to reap profit in
return for the benefit they confer upon the public, find
it necessary to ask a certain rate of fare, that rate should
be made the same for all, unless for some special good
reason, as in the case of children, excursion'parties, etc.,
where justice or interest renders it proper to make de-
ductions from full rates. We have never overheard a
clergyman ask for half-rates at the ticket office on ac-
count of his profession, without feeling a sympathetic
shame-facedness for him, as though (especially if he
chanced to be physically a fine-looking specimen of
manhood) he had been somehow inadvertently insulted
by being placed on a level with "children under twelve
years of age," and half-expecting him to rebel as we
once saw a well-grown Miss, really under the regulation
age, who when the conductor demurred at her half-fare
i^6
THE OPEN COURT.
ticket and her petite mother explained, grew red in the
face with hurt pride and as the conductor passed on,
exclaimed vehemently, " Mamma I never will ride on
the cars ao-ain unless you buy me a whole ticket, for I'm
as big as you are and I ought to pay full fare! "
Every day nearly the newspapers bear record of the
mean avarice of men in high places, men chosen by their
fellows as the representatives of the wisdom, dignity and
conscientiousness of the people who thus honor them,
but who for a contemptible addition to their already suf-
ficient means, allow themselves to become engaged in
questionable transactions and sell to the highest bidder
their influence, integrity and self-respect. And so used
have we become to this sort of thing that the public
sense of right has become in a manner blunted, and
even when outraged justice gets hold of some more dar-
ing offender, he is not looked upon with the horror he
would be could the far-reaching extent and result of his
wrong doing in its poisonous workings upon social mor-
ality be fully appreciated.
In our municipalities things are no better — often
worse. Here is a specimen of editorial comment, which
is by no means rare in the newspapers of Eastern as well
as Western cities:
We presume that the festive alderman or the bibulous com-
mon councilman who orders a dinner for himself and friends, or
takes a carriage for his own private business or pleasure, and has
the expense charged to the city, would not agree that he thereby
becomes guiltv of petty larceny, but that is just the size of it.
There is no law authorizing such expenditures. The custom has
grown up from small beginnings, but the aldermen and common
councilmen have no more right to regale themselves and their
friends at the public expense than they have to steal the money of
the taxpayers before or after it has been paid into the city treasury.
It is sometimes said in defense of the "junket-
ings," private money-making out of public needs
and the public purse, doubtful personal transactions
on city authority and expensive underhandedness of
city officials, that they are ill-paid and must re-
imburse themselves in some way for the loss of time
and money in their private business. But a sense of
honor equal to that we expect from the clay laborer
who undertakes to plant our garden or paint our
house, would forbid these men to accept a position
which they cannot afford to fill save by a sacrifice
of their honor and by sinking to the level of bribe
takers and petty plunderers.
The ideal state of society can never arrive until
men and women learn to be high-minded and self-
respectful enough to refuse to accept favors not due
them, until legislators understand that they are the
ministers of justice and not of favoritism and refuse
to waste the people's money in bestowing annuities
on the well-to-do relatives and "relicts" of deceased
prominent men, unless they are prepared to do the
sameby the thousands of indigent wives and children
of men now dead who living performed well their duty
to State and society; until rich men who have per-
formed worthy and beneficent acts refuse to brush the
bloom of generosity from those acts by accepting com-
memorative money gifts gathered alike from rich
and poor, willing and unwilling sources; until men in
high" or low positions refuse to accept from under-
lings or employes "testimonials " which leave the
public in doubt as to whether won by appreciated
worth or by politic manceuvering; until lovers about
to wed refuse to levy a tax upon the love, pride or
generosity of friends and relatives by their virtual bid
for wedding presents; until men who hire service
from other men for their customers, pay for such ser-
vice a fair wage in honest fashion and forbid the free-
booting of "tipping;" until in short, labor is paid
wages and not put to dishonest make-shifts to secure
its equivalent, and labor's wage is not given to those
who do not need and have not earned it. s. a. u.
SECOND ANNUAL MEETING OF THE AMERICAN
ECONOMIC ASSOCIATION.
Although the American Economic Association
has been organized but little over a year, it has gained
considerable prominence in the public mind. Its
president, General Francis A. Walker, is widely-
known as an educator and statistician, as well as an
economist, and his name has given the association a
certain prestige which it could not otherwise so early
have attained. The second annual meeting held in
Boston, May 21-25, at tne same time as the meeting
of the American Historical Association, was marked
by a keen interest in questions of practical economics
and showed careful preparation on the part of
speakers. The session opened with an address from
the president, the most marked feature of which
was that the speaker dwelt upon the importance of
some form of control over the number and character
of foreign immigrants. The forenoon of Monday
was devoted to a study of the railroad problem. The
association has adopted the policy of appointing
standing committees to which are referred various
topics for detailed study and report. The chairman
of the Committee of Transportation is Professor E.
1. James, of the University of Pennsylvania, under
whose direction the papers on this topic were pre-
sented. After an historical sketch by the chairman
of the agitation leading to the enactment of Inter-
State Commerce Bill, Dr. \i. R. A. Seligman, of Col-
umbia College, read a paper on the " Long and Short
Haul Clause." The comparison drawn between the
principle of public taxation and the principle upon
which railroad tariffs should be drawn was exceed-
ing!)' suggestive. Mr. Simon Stern, of New York
City, then reviewed the Italian Railway Commission,
THE OPEN COURT.
247
as the result of which private companies gained con-
trol over the railroads in that country. He criticised
the presentation of this subject as presented in Mr.
Hadley's book on Railroad Transportation and, as
Professor Hadley was present, this, of cousre, gave
rise to a lively and interesting discussion.
• The session of Tuesday morning was devoted to
a consideration of the condition of gas works, water
works, and street railways in the United States. It
was the purpose of the Committee of Municipal
Finance, of which Professor H. C. Adams was chair-
man, to discover what means had been adopted by
municipal authorities to guard the interests of the
public in case of these industries, which, from their
very nature, are superior to the control of competi-
tion. Although the report was full of detail it was
received with interest, and will form the subject of a
monograph published by the association. Quite a
number of other papers were read, the most import-
ant, perhaps, being an address before a joint session
of the two associations, by Carroll D. Wright, on
"The Study of Statistics in Colleges."
It will be seen from these brief mentions that the
association deals with the practical questions of the
day. Its influence is exerted fully as much by its
publications as by its meetings. It has quite a strong
membership in the P.ast and hopes to extend its
membership in the West during the coming year,
and to this end has chosen Columbus, Ohio, as the
place for its meeting in 1888.
GEORGE'S THEORY PROVED AND DISPROVED BY
THEOLOGY.
The Nation rebukes Henry George for saying that
"the Creator meant His bounties of nature equally
for all men," and that " instead of this we have
allowed them to become the property of a few indi-
viduals." The Nation wants to know how Mr. George
came to find out the Creator's intentions in regard to
the division of property, and, if what he says be
true, how it happens " that the Creator has allowed
His intentions to be frustrated by people like Jay
Gould and Russell Sage?"
The Nation's criticism of Henry George's language
is just and to the point; but this language is the
language of the current theology, and is heard from
almost every pulpit. And not only the clergy, but
speakers and writers generally are accustomed to
speak with confidence of the "intentions" of the
Creator, with which their theories and objects are of
course in harmony, and with which those of their
opponents are always in conflict. Mr. George
employs the same method, perhaps because he
knows that the mass of people are, even in this age,
more readily reached and more easily influenced by
bold declarations about the intentions of the Creator
than by careful reasonings which involve no theo-
logical assumptions and no appeals to traditional
religious beliefs and prejudices.
This method can be used and is used just as
effectively against Mr. George's land theory as
in its defense. Some months ago Archbishop Cor-
rigan, replying to this theory, made " the prime-
val curse" the basis of land ownership. He said:
"We take the air and the light as God gives them,
and owe Him thanks for His bounty. It was only
the earth which fell under the primeval curse; and
only the earth, not the air or light, which man's indus-
trious toil can coax back to something like its orig-
inal fruitfulness. When he has done so, his great
reward is to enjoy the results without hinderancc from
others."
Here we have a number of assumptions all con-
tradicted by science: that the original condition
of the earth was one of abounding fruitfulness; that
the earth has been cursed, and that its condition is
worse than when man first appeared; that the relation
of earth and air, — to the ever-changing conditions
of which the adjustments of organic life, of limb and
lung, have been going on together through countless
ages, — are such that one could be cursed and the-
other not. The one truth implied in the argument,
but obscured by the Archbishop's mythological state-
ments, is that the constitution and condition of the
earth, and the nature and needs of man are such that
labor is necessary to man's subsistence and comfort,
and the only materials to which this labor can be
applied are those of the earth. The question how
land should be held cannot be decided by appeals
to theology; it must be, in the opinion of most
thinkers has already been, practically decided on
grounds of public utility. But theological methods
and mythological fancies employed in the discus-
sion of economic problems and current practical
issues will fare hardly between the disputants; and
although they may for the moment impress unmod-
ernized minds, their weakness is sure to be shown,
and the superior value of the scientific method of
treating such subjects must by contrast, be strikingly
manifest.
The exodus of the Catholic children from the public
schools promises to become complete. The late Council
at Baltimore legislated to bring about this result, and the
Catholic Review, commenting upon its action, says:
"A thousand new Catholic schools will dot the Ameri-
can landscape before the close of 1SS7, and two hundred
thousand children will make their abode in them."
Catholics have for years protested against Protestant
religious teaching in our public schools, and although the
Catholics have all along really desired Catholic schools,
248
THE OPEN COURT.
yet, if Protestants had not so generally disregarded the
protests and petitions of their Catholic fellow citizens —
protests and petitions based upon the rights of con-
science this general withdrawal of Catholic children
from the public school would probably never have been
uro-ed by the ecclesiastical authorities. The demands of
the Catholics have in the main been just, and they are
evidently set in their main purpose, conscious of the
wrongs which they have had to endure, because they
have been in the minority. Of course they will soon
ask that legislatures and senates consider their ideas of
State education, and they will never be satisfied until
they receive their proportionate amount from the public
school fund for the support of their schools. Protestant
Christians may yet feel constrained to join the move-
ment for the complete secularization of public schools
of this country and all other State institutions.
# # *
The Freethinkers' Magazine for June reprints
"Labor Cranks," an article by James Parton, which ap-
peared in a recent number of The Open Court. The
associate editor, T. B. Wakeman, commenting upon it
in the same number, thinks that it leads to some conclu-
sions different from those intended by its author, namely :
that questions that demand earnest attention from all
men so affect certain minds that there is a consequent de-
votion, an intensity of application to them, that precludes
the possibility of giving notice and due consideration to
other things of equal importance. He suggests that the
best way to head off cranks like Carlyle, John Brown,
Fourier and Henry George, is to " gradually, justly and
therefor safely " realize " their ideas as a part of the
progress of the world." The world in general either
pooh-poohs its " cranks " or silences them by law when
they become too troublesome, but the ideas for which
they stand cannot be crushed ; it is but tying " the safety
valve." Truth must ultimately prevail, and " Ideas
which become so dominant as to make noble natures
cranks, should be used as wheels of progress and thus
made a part of the rolling-stock of the world." Of this
it may be said that a noble nature is not enough in itself
to command us to accept theories and beliefs, — indeed
there have been noble men whose thoughts on impor-
tant subjects were untrue and would have led to disas-
trous results had they been accepted by the world. The
question for us to ask upon the presentation of any
scheme or system is, Is it right and just? If so found
we are commanded to further it as much as possible.
Announcement reaches us of the proposed publi-
cation of a journal to be entitled the American Journal
of Psychology, G. Stanley Hall, Ph. D., Professor of
Psychology and Pedagogics in the Johns Hopkins
University, will be its editor. While "the main ob-
ject of the journal will be to record the progress of
scientific psychology," giving special prominence
"to methods of research," articles "of unusual im-
portance in the fields of logic, the history of philoso-
phy, practical ethics and education will be welcomed."
There will be in addition to this, digests and reviews
and important papers from other journals, including
translations from foreign languages, of articles of
special interest. The journal will be issued quarterly
at S3. 00 a year.
In one of Lilian Whitings recent Boston letters to
the Inter Ocean of this city, speaking of the fact that
Houghton, Mifflin & Co. had received from the Boston
Browning Club a vote of thanks for the gift to the
club of their new and exquisite edition of Browning
which is printed with the greatest care from the poets
own revisions of his text, says: " The errors in former
publications have been numerous, and Professor Rolfe
amused the society greatly yesterday by stating that he
doubted not that many misprints were cherished by
Browningites who mistook them for profundities or
obscurities as might be."
# * *
The Society for Ethical Culture of Chicago, listened
to the last of the course of weekly lectures for this sea-
son, by Mr. Salter, on Sunday, May 29. This last year
has been an encouraging one for the Society, its labors
having been fruitful in results. The task it has taken
upon itself to perform is a noble one, and we wish it a
hearty good-speed.
The American Association for the Advancement of
Science will meet in New York City on August 10,
and continue in session one week. This being the first
meeting held in New York, a large attendance is ex
pected. The meeting will be held in the buildings of
Columbia College, and will be presided over by Pro-
fessor S. P. Langley, the incoming president of the asso-
ciation.
# * *
We are glad to note that among the topics to be
discussed at the eleventh annual meeting of the Church
Congress next October, is " the higher education of
women," a good sign of progress in the church, this.
# * #
The Open Court of June gth will contain the
concluding part of Dr. Montgomery's criticism of
Prof. E. D. Cope's Theology of Evolution. In the
number following Prof. Cope will reply to his critic.
% % Jfc
The Literary World presents a new method of
reviewing poetry:
The book has a cubic content of 117 inches; it contains 60S
pages, comprises (we take the author's word lor it) 300 poems, and
it weighs 2 pounds 3 ounces — all for $2, with the portrait of the
author thrown in.
THE OPEN COURT.
249
CORRESPONDENCE.
A LETTER FROM LONDON.
To the Editors :
Since I sent off my letter of April, Mr. Bradlaugh has tried
several times to get his Oaths Bill read a second time, but new
Conservative members have come forward to block the bill and
join hands" with the Roman Catholic, Mr. De Lisle, and the ex-
treme Protestant, Mr. Johnston, against the Atheist.
Meanwhile, the question of oath or affirmation is constantly
arising in one way or another, especially in connection with
juries, where there is so much confusion of mind as to what is
the law and what is not, that each magistrate decides the matter
according to his own particular fancy. Some free-thinking
jurors are allowed to affirm, a few take the oath, and others are
not permitted to do either, but are compelled to lounge idly about
the court. It is seldom that magistrates will release Freethink-
ers who have been summoned to serve on a jury from their ser-
vice, because it is urged that then every juror would say he was
a Freethinker in order to shirk a troublesome duty. Only a few
days ago (on Saturday, April 23), at the Liverpool Sessions, pre-
sided over bv Mr. C. H. Hopwood, Q. C, the Recorder, when the
jurors were about to be sworn, one of them, Mr. W. A. New-
comb, asked to affirm instead of taking the oath, as he had been
allowed to do in another court, by another magistrate, on the
previous day. Questioned by the Recorder, Mr. Newcomb stated
that he was a person of no religious belief, whereupon Mr. Hop-
wood told him that he could not accept him as a juryman ; some-
one else must be sworn in his stead. He (Mr. Hopwood) was
sorry, but he could not help it; he had done his best to get the
law altered. Mr. Newcomb, having said that he had no wish to
shirk his responsibility as a citizen, then asked, "Am I dis-
charged? can I leave the court?" The Recorder: "No." Mr.
Newcomb: "I publicly protest against this injustice. I am here
to do my duty, and cannot do it." The Recorder: "It is the
law."
Some surprise has been expressed by Freethinkers here, that
Mr. Hopwood, who worked so hard to get the Oaths Bill passed
when he had charge of it in a previous Parliament, should not
have done as many judges do, and allowed the free-thinking juror
to affirm, or at least to have released him from attendance. To
those, however, who know something of Mr. Hopwood, his ac-
tion is perfectly explicable. The Recorder of Liverpool is a
rigidly conscientious man; in his present position he is called
upon to administer the law as he finds it. and whatever he con-
ceives the law to be, that will he administer, whether he thinks
the law be good or evil.
On Wednesdays, as the House of Commons rises at 6 p. m.,
blocking* amendments do not operate; so on the Wednesday
following the incident just related, Mr. Bradlaugh tried to get his
Oaths Bill through another stage. At a quarter to six the Clerk
of the House called over the orders of the day, as usual. No ob-
jection was made to the Oaths Bill. The Speaker then actually
put the question, " that this bill be read a second time," when
some voice cried from a back bench on the government side of
the House, "I object," and these two little words stopped any
further progress with the bill that day.
The next day Mr. Bradlaugh asked the First Lord of the
Treasurv, " whether, at Liverpool City Sessions on Saturday last,
the Recorder refused the oath and affirmation of W. A. New-
comb as a juror, Mr. Newcomb having applied to affirm on the
ground that he was a person without religious belief; whether,
on Monday, at an inquest at Wood Green, Mr. Wynne Baxter,
the coroner, accepted the affirmation of Mr. Oates as a juror,
* Last month I explained the nature of the Parliamentary " block."
although Mr. Oates had stated that he was without religious be-
lief; whether he is aware that similar instances of conflict, as to
acceptance and rejection of affirmation by jurors without relig-
ious belief, are constantly occurring in the Queen's Bench Divi-
sion of the High Court of Justice, and before coroners; and,
whether, under these circumstances, the government can afford
any facilities for taking the opinion of the House on the second
reading of the Oaths Bill, which, during the whole of the present
session, has been persistentlv blocked."
The First Lord of the Treasury, Mr. W. H. Smith, replied
that he knew nothing of the particular cases referred to, and was
not aware that instances of the same kind were constantly occur-
ring. It was impossible, he said, for him to give consideration to
any measure which was not a government measure. Mr. Brad-
laugh then asked if the Right Honorable gentleman would influ-
ence the members of his party to withdraw their block from his
bill, but Mr. Smith protested that he could not do this.
All, then, that is left lor Mr. Bradlaugh, is to put the bill
down for its second reading every time the " Orders of the Day "
are a little lighter than usual, and to hope that it will be reached
before half-past twelve, the hour that the block takes effect. This,
of course, he will do persistently, and, if tenacity of purpose and
patient perseverance count for anything, then before long we
ought to see the bill through another stage.
Unlike members of Parliament, jurors and numbers of others,
witnesses may affirm ; the law expressly provides for this, but
attaches a most obnoxious condition to the privilege. Before a
witness is permitted to affirm, the magistrate is required to satisfy
himself that the oath will have no binding effect on the witness's
conscience. This is a very obnoxious — one might even say, in-
sulting—condition, because an honest man will speak the truth
whether "bound" by oath or by affirmation, and when the oath
was the form the law required the free-thinking witness to take
in order to render him legally liable for what he said, he was as
much bound by it, morally, as he now is by his solemn declara-
tion, and certainly we have no records of perjured free-thought
witnesses. Christians, however, are very fond of saying that the
formal acknowledgment which the law requires from every non-
Christian witness, that the oath has no binding effect upon him, is
an admission that when he has no choice but to take the oath, then
he won't feel himself bound by it. The Christian majority first
puts disabilities on the free-thinking minority, and then taunts
it with them. And yet they preach, "Love one another!"
But although for a number of years, now, Freethinkers have
been allowed by law to affirm in giving evidence, nevertheless
there are so many cases in which their affirmation cannot be
received that the judges seem in a state of great confusion on the
subject. A little while ago, in the Divorce Court, a witness ob-
jected to being sworn because he was "an Agnostic." The
judge, Sir James Harmen, expressed himself as very doubtful as
to any form under which he could take the evidence, but the
clerk of the court came to the rescue, saying, "It is under Brad-
laugh's Act, my lord." Whereupon Sir James Harmen said,
loftily, " If anyone knows how to swear this witness, let it be
done." At the Middleton (Lancashire) Police Court, last week,
the magistrate apparently knew nothing of the Evidence Amend-
ment Acts or " Bradlaugh's Act," and no wiser clerk of the court
coming to the rescue, illegally insisted on the administration of
the oath.
A week ago died Sir John Mellor, the last of that patient
triumvirate of judges who tried the Tichborne "claimant," Orton,
in a case which lasted over 100 days. Sir John Mellor was a
profoundly religious man, and in 1884, five years after his retire-
ment from the bench, he published a pamphlet on the oath ques-
tion, entitled, " Is the Oath of Allegiance a Profane Oath?" He
began by contending that the frequent and profane use of oaths
25°
THE OPEN COURT.
is the main cause of the "existing want of reverence and awe
rightfully attaching to the name of God," and regretted that -
considering the excitement that prevailed, and the prejudice that
had been created bv the introduction of the Affirmation Bill into
the House of Commons— none of the great religious bodies had
troubled to discuss the oath question, and ascertain how far the
fearful multiplicity of oaths was calculated to induce irreverence
for the " Supreme unseen Cause." Sir John Mellor wrote: "Pro-
foundly convinced, bv a long judicial experience, of the general
worthlessness of oaths, especially in cases where their falsity can-
not be tested bv cross-examination or be criminally punished, I
have become an advocate for the abolition of oaths as the test of
truth; but I would retain the punishment for false declarations
wherever at present the law prescribes a penalty for a false oath.
* * * An honest man's testimony will not be made more true
under the sanction of an oath, and a dishonest man will only be
affected bv the dread of temporal punishment." The learned
judge then dealt with the oath of allegiance required of every
duly elected representative before he can sit and vote in Parlia-
ment. This, he said, is "an unnecessary, vain, and therefore pro-
fane oath," for since it cannot extend the duty or increase the
obligation of allegiance it necessarily follows that it is a " taking
of the name of God in vain." Mr. Justice Meilor wound up by
saying that since in his opinion the oath of allegiance was unnec-
essary and profane, he would suggest that, instead of the oath, a
Roll of Parliament should be made up and signed by every mem-
ber upon taking his seat.
Last month lack of space prevented me from mentioning the
wonderful will of the late Scotch judge, Lord Gifford, which had
just then been published. I see that the will was noticed in The
Open Court of March 31, but I must say a few words more
about it here, it is of so much importance. Many and varied are
the feelings and opinions to which it has given rise, but Free-
thinkers can have but one feeling — that of respect for and grati-
tude to Lord Gifford; and one opinion — that it ought to prove a
most important aid to Freethought. Lord Gifford announced in
his will that he was so convinced that "the true knowledge of
Q0d — that is, of the being, nature and attributes of the Infinito
of the All, of the First and the Only Cause" — is the means of
"man's highest well-being," that he resolved upon founding lec-
tureships or classes to aid in the teaching and diffusion of such
true and sound knowledge. He therefore bequeathed £80,000 for
the purpose of establishing a lectureship at each of the universi-
ties of Edinburg, Glasgow, Aberdeen and St. Andrews, for " ' Pro-
moting, Advancing, Teaching and Diffusing the Study of Natural
Theology,' in the widest sense of -that term; in other words, 'The
Knowledge of God, the Infinite, the All, the First and Only
Cause, the one and the Sole Substance, the Sole Being, the Sole
Reality, and the Sole Existence, the Knowledge of his Nature
and Attributes, the Knowledge of the Relations which men and
the whole universe bear to Him, the Knowledge of the Nature
and Foundation of Ethics or Morals, and of all Obligations and
Duties thence arising.' "
The lectures are not to be perpetual, as they are so often in
our universities, but are to be appointed for short terms, because
the testator expressly desires that the thoughts of different minds
should explain and illustrate the subject; the lecturers may be of
any religion, or of no religion at all, provided only they be men,
able and true, earnestly seeking to elucidate the truth.
Lord Gifford wished the lecturers to treat the subject as a
strictly natural science, considered just as " astronomy or chein-
n-vertheless the lecturers are to be under no restraint
. er in their method of dealing with the theme, as he is
' persuaded that nothing but good can result from free discussion."
The testator desired the lectures to be public and popular, so that
not only the university students, but also the whole community,
might profit by them.
Thoughtful men and women, sincere lovers of truth, can
hardly do sufficient honor to the dead judge, who did not selfishly
encumber posterity for all time with an endowment for the prop-
agation of his own special views, as some men do, but who, after
satisfying all private claims, leaves the remainder of his fortune
to promote a free discussion on the subject nearest "his heart.
The Freethinkers of the English colonies of South Africa are
very desirous of forming themselves into associations andol hav-
ing an experienced Freethought lecturer out ihere from England.
They have applied to Mr. Bradlaugh to aid them to get a lecturer
to go. There seems to be numbers of Freethinkers there, and
they feel quite assured that there will be no difficulty in getting
large audiences in such places as Port Elizabeth, Kimberley Dia-
mond Fields, Graham's Town, Graaf-Reinet, King William's
Town, Queenstown, etc. If any American lecturer would care
to communicate with the secretary, the address is T. Broughton,
S Upper Hill street, Port Elizabeth, South Africa.
It is interesting to note that at Monte Pincio, in Rome, a col-
umn to Galileo has been erected near the palace of the Medicis.
It has upon it the following inscription: "The neighboring pal-
ace, once the property of the Medicis, was the prison of Galileo
Galilei, guilty of having seen the earth revolve round the sun. —
S. P. Q. R., LDCCCLXXXVII."
May, 18S7. Hvpatia Bradlaugh Bonner.
MIRACLES.
To the Editors :
I apply to you, or to any of your readers, for help. It is an
old experience of investigators to find that somebody thought up
their think long before they did. Such has more than once been
my own case, and my request may probably lead me to it again.
The thought this time Is an argument on miracles which seems to
me to be broader, deeper and more complete than Hume's, and to
be conclusive, which I do not think Hume's is. And my request
is that I may have pointed out to me any discussion of this argu-
ment; for I have not succeeded in finding one. This is my state-
ment :
Hume's argument on miracles is in brief this: "Since it is
always more probable that the witnesses to an alleged miracle are
mistaken than that the miracle happened, the evidence for the
miracle must always be weaker than that against it." This admits
that there may be evidence for a miracle. My argument goes
further, viz.: Evidence for a miracle not merely must be weaker
than that against it, but cannot exist at all. This appears as fol-
lows: Evidence is matter offered by one person for the purpose of
causing another person to believe. In order that this can happen
the two parties to the transaction must have had a previous com-
mon experience, for otherwise the listener has no principle or
knowledge within himself for the offerer to appeal to, — nothing
which can be convinced. In the case of anything capable of
proof, the thing will be found to be a case falling within some pre-
viously known general rule, illustrated by some part of the past
experience of life. But alleged evidence to prove a miracle not
only does not fall within any such rule and experience of life, but
it does not even contradict them. It is outside of them; has
nothing to do with them at all; has no relation to them; in short,
it is not evidence at all, because it does not appeal or apply to any
common ground of experience or consciousness in the two parties
to the offer, such as furnishes the only foundation or substratum
of possibility for convincing and being convinced which can exist
for two human mind6. The offerer of such alleged evidence may
believe in the genuineness of what he considers to have been an
experience of his own. He may be believed by a listener who
believes himself to have had a similar experience, — that is, who is
THE OPEN COURT.
25'
already convinced. A hearer under the influence of mere appe-
tite for the marvelous may believe such a statement. But such
belief is not being convinced by evidence.
Where is this point discussed? Is the argument less signifi-
cant than I think it? I will add that my argument is not the
same as Mill's about contradicting a complete induction. It does
not require the pretty large assumption that an induction can be
known to be complete; and it does not admit, as Mill's does, that
the distinctive quality of evidence may exist in matter offered as
proof of miracles. Both Hume and Mill admit, I believe, in
terms, that miracles are not impossible, and that they may possi-
bly be proved. I do not now deny that they are conceivable, but
I do deny that, as the human mind is at present constituted, evi-
dence to prove them can exist. Smith John, D. D.
BOOK REVIEWS.
The Foundations of Ethics. By Edioarde Maude, M. A.
Edited by William James, Professor of Philosophy in Har-
vard College. New York: Henry Holt & Co., 1SS7. pp. 220.
This little treatise, the work of a young man who died under
thirty years of ag', is introduced to the public, the editor says, not
onlv in justice to the author's memory, " but in justice to philoso-
phy." The aim of the work is to harmonize the various schools
of ethics, which it regards as mainly right in their affirmations
but wrong in most of their negations, and " fighting only because
they see the shield from different sides." "Impartial minds find
great difficulty in rating themselves with one or the other of the
various schools, exclusively, and this because they cannot find it
in their hearts to shut themselves out from the other schools for
the slight causes that can be alleged." The difference between
right and expediency is regarded as superficial. Duty and interest
are identical. Our author does not treat ethics as the science of
good and evil, or of the effects of actions, but as the science ot
that which merits praise or blame in character, or " the science
which studies the responsibility of free beings for their actions
with a view to determining for what, and how far these beings are
worthy of praise or blame, reward or punishment for what they
do or for what they fail to do." An act for which the actor de-
serves praise may produce evil effects, or one for which he de-
serves blame may result in good. The effects of an action in no
way affect its ethical quality. Ethics cannot say "this act is good
because it is useful, for that judgment must be made by some
other science which has for its business the study of the effects of
actions." Ethics can deal only with the subjective side of con-
duct. The ethical quality of an act is determined by the effort
made by the actor to do that, rather than any other act. The so-
called virtuous impulses, from the ethical point of view, "should
be regarded exactly as the unreasoning impulses to immediate
sensual pleasure are: both are unmoral; neither is in sc vicious;
neither is virtuous, so far as the actor is concerned, since he is en-
tirely irresponsible for their existence. An act even done with
good intent, but without effort of will, is not an ethical act.
Neither intent nor good consequences of conduct make it virtuous.
The only sin is failure to oppose obstacles by the virtuous exer-
cise of our will. Virtue is possible only for imperfect beings.
Professor C. C. Everett is quoted: "The moral law even in itself
is only transitional. No action is complete so long as it is per-
formed merely from a sense of duty." " So virtue is a mark of im-
perfection. The science of ethics must determine how far a man
is praiseworthy or blameworthy for his acts, but this is what never
can be determined and therefore a science of pure ethics is impos-
sible. The world is or ought to be interested only in the objec-
tive effects of actions — the science of good and evil. While ' the
Tightness of an act may be known innately ' its goodness can be
known only by experience." Such briefly is the view presented.
The novelty of the work consists chiefly in i s definitions and
distinctions, and here the author shows much acuteness. In mak-
ing virtue to consist simply in effort of will, and an act virtuous
only in proportion to the effort made to perform it, regardless of
its effects, and excluding from virtue all good acts resulting from
good impulses, from inherited tendencies, from a natural disposition
to do right, — all acts which are performed with pleasure, however
useful, the author divests virtue of about all the word connotes; and
of course if ethics deals only with the energy of free volition, there
can be no science of ethics. We think that most of the fallacies
of this little work can be traced to the assumption of a metaphys-
ical will, and volition that is exempt from law and causation. It
seems not to have occurred to the author that volitional energy
must depend upon inherited qualities, and can afford no sole
ground for praise and blame.
Entwickelung und Gl'uckseligkeit. Ethische Essays von
B. Carneri. Stuttgart, 1S86. Schweizerbartsche Verlags-
handlung.
This work of 470 pages is a collection of twenty-seven essays
which were published before in the h'osmos, one of the most
prominent German periodicals. All of the essays touch upon
the ethical problem and such topics as are in close reference to
ethics. Carneri's aim is to base ethics upon the evolution theory
and Darwinism. He distinguishes ethics from morals. Morals
are the historically developed ethological state of certain periods
They are different in different times, and as a rule c m be formu-
lated in a code of dictatory or imperative prescriptions. Ethics
(Sittlichkcit) is to him morals in a wider sense. It is the abstract
ideal of morals, which enables us to estimate and measure the
different moral stages and views.
"Ethics," he savs, "is the highest efflorescence of evolution
to which humanity as it appears in the restriction of a community
necessarily evolves. To ethics the pursuit of happiness naturally
leads bv a purification of the instinct of self-preservation."
Happiness is defined as "conscious, unchecked evolution,"
and "ethics is the reconciliation of individual evolution with
universal evolution (Versohnung der individuellen Entwickelung
mit der Eutwickelung der Gesammtheit). In this way the social
restraint serves to enhance and purify happiness." Carneri
objects to explain self-sacrifice from a happiness motive.
"Utilitarians," he says, "do violence to logic and the common
usage of language; and here their whole system breaks down.
Who for a noble purpose sacrifices his property and life, by no
means pursues his own happiness or utility, which, indeed, he
foregoes forever. Yet the pain which is caused in this way does
not prevent that his sacrifice affords him a last happiness, the
onlv one which remains possible "
"The happiness idea," Carneri says in another passage, "has
its weak points, but it approaches most nearly the distinction of
pleasure and displeasure, as it declares that emotion gives the
first impulse. It is primarily emotion and only secondarily utility
which prompts the ego to search for its complementary /«, and
causes egotism to find full gratification in altruism." * *
"Emotion is the first impulse, but it is intelligence which gradu-
ally ennobles emotion." We may fairly regard Carneri's view as
a reconciliation of utilitarianism with altruism. The work con-
tains many interesting essays on different topics, lie treats on
Kant, Condillac, Leslie Stephen, Darwin, etc. He speaks of the
"Position of Woman," "The Explanation of Consciousness,"
" Knowledge and Faith," "The Power of Mind," etc.
Let me conclude with the last passage of Carneri's book,
where he contemplates the progress of humankind and human
aspirations for the highest ideals, " The Good, the Beautiful and
252
THE OPEN COURT.
the True." "There is much lacking in our civilization still," he
says, "but when we review the whole past of human history
without prejudice, we must confess that man has taken good care
of the talent in his trust, and we may say with confidence, ' Man
will never lose himself.' " p. c.
the portraits given this month are of Charles Sumner, Preston S.
Brooks, Henry Wilson, Anson Burlingame, Died Scott and wife,
Chief Justice Taney, and Professors Moleschott, Voit and Pet-
tenkofer.
Zury: The Meanest Man in Spring County. A Novel of
Western Life. By Joseph Kirkland. Boston : Houghton
Mifflin & Co., 1S87. pp. 53S. Price $1.50.
This is an interesting, though not an agreeable story. It is an
apparently realistic discription of pioneer life in the West with
none of its more sordid phases glossed over, or its bitter experi-
ences left out. The characteristics, and the successful career of
Zury Prouder, the hero, are carefully drawn from the time when he
first arrived in Spring County, a healthy, wide-awake, self-assertive
lad, whose family and possessions journeyed thither in a "prairie
schooner" and " settled " on a bit of mortgaged land, through his
long life of contemptible and barely honest, niggardly meanness
and bargain-making until he attains great wealth, legislative
honors, and a third wife. To read this work is a much easier way
to understand how some Western farmers have succeeded in
amassing fortunes than to make personal experiments thereof.
Fortunately the majority of our Western pioneers have never
been reduced to such low moral levels as are here portrayed, but
"Zury" is undeniably a strongly drawn type of a certain class,
whose natural bents are warped and distorted by dire need, and
degrading environments. There is a love story in this decidedly
unique novel, which begins, proceeds and ends in a manner alto-
gether original if not quite commendable. The dialogues and talk
so freely scattered through the book are carried on in a strange so-
called Western dialect which on the whole detracts from the in-
terest of the story from the necessity on the part of the reader of
partial translation. But whoever wishes a graphic picture of the
superficial thoughts, aims and daily life as it i6 in small Western
communities will find it in the story of "Zury," who gloried in his
well-won distinction of being "the meanest man in Spring County."
An Illustrated Grammar qf Skat, the German Game
of Cards. By Ejus/ Eduard Lcmcke. 2d edition, revised
and greatly enlarged. New York, 18S7: Westermann & Co.
Skat is considered the national German gime of cards. It
has been introduced into America, and it is spreading rapidly
through the efforts of many enthusiastic players. No doubt the
game possesses much fascination, and the author of this Gram-
mar of Skat treats the subject so ingeniously that even non-play-
ers, as the writer knows from his own experience, must grow
interested. To Mr. Lemcke, Skat is more than simply whiling
away the idle hours of leisure. He looks upon it as an essential
feature of German culture which he wants to see introduced into
American social life as a cure of the Puritan ideas of Sabbath
observance, etc. The origin of Skat, although it is not older
than fifty or sixty years, is shrouded in myths. Its principles are
quite democratic, as the knave (der Bauer) beats even the king.
A remarkable feature of the game is that the trumping power of
the cards is different from their counting value. p. c.
The Century for June presents as its frontispiece a strong por
trait of Count Leo Tolstoi, and George Kennan gives an inter
esting sketch of a visit to that original thinker, of whom hi
remarks: " His theories of life and conduct seemed to me nobly
generously and heroically wrong, but for the man himself I had,
and could have, only the warmest respect and esteem." In the
same number Julan Hawthorne writes of "College Boat Racing
and the New London Regatta," which article is accompanied by
spirited illustrations by W. A. Rogers. Mrs. Schuyler Van
Rensselaer's description of " Peterborough Cathedral," in
England, is also finely illustrated by Joseph Pennell. Some ot
The Unitarian Review for June opens with a paper on "The
Revelations of God," as understood in the light of nineteenth
century thought, by John W. Chadwick; the second article con-
siders "A Flaw in our Town Democracies;" "St. Paul's Doctrine
of the Risen Christ," by Conrad Mascol, was prepared, the editor
states, by special request as a sequel to an article in the May
number on "St. Paul's Doctrine of the Resurrection;" "Our
Present Need," by E. F. Hayward, treats of the needs of Uni-
tarian churches; "The Eastern Question" is interestingly
explained by Prof. Boros, of the college at Koloysviir, Transyl-
vania; "The Editor's Note-Book" in "One Phase of the Social
Question" and "The Mission of Sovereigns" notices at consid-
erable length two new books; " The Pauline Writings " are the
subject considered in " Critical Theology," and George Meredith's
novels in "Literary Criticism."
Wide-A-vake for June is a particularly brilliant number, both
in reading matter and illustration. Three chapters are given of
what promises to be one of Charles Egbert Craddock's best
stories, "The Story of Keedon Bluffs;" Mrs. Whitney translates
some "bird talk " into verse; Harriet Prescott Spofford, in a poem,
tells the sad story of "A Splendid Fire " made from the manu-
scripts of a disappointed poet; Louise Guiney writes of water
sprites; Lizzie W. Champney begins a finely illustrated story of
the Far West; Mrs. Sarah K. Bolton tells the experience of a
successful woman florist, and Grace Denio Litchfield relates her
thrilling experience during the earthquake at Mentone.
James H. West, of Geneva, 111., is about to publish Uplifts
of Heart and Will, a book consisting of thirty-seven religious
meditations or aspirations, the peculiarity of which, is that they
are not addressed "to any ulterior deity," but are the expression
of the emotion of the soul yearning for moral perfection.
INDIVIDUAL EXPRESSIONS.
The issues therein treated of are highly important and ably discussed. —
Prof. Richard Owen, New Harmony, Ind.
I think The Open Court the best publication of the kind that I have met
with lately, North or South. — Lerov M. Lewis, Monroe, La.
I am wonderfully pleased with The Open Court. It is so original and
fresh that it rests one. — John C. Mitchell, Danversport, Mass.
I congratulate you upon producing a pnper ?o excellent in every way. It
will be as The Index was, the very Bread of Life to me. — P. B, Sibley,
Spearfish, Dak.
If you can determine to issue The Cuukt weekly, I will be glad to double
my subscription. I congratulate you on its excellence. — G. P. Delaplaine,
Madison, Wis.
When I first learned that The Ind x was about to be discontinued, I felt that
I was to lose the companionship of an old friend, and was disposed to question
the action of the trustees in their determination to close up the affairs of such a
valuable paper. But I now feel reconciled to such action since The Open
Court has come into existance, for it is a most noble inheritance that has come
to continue the good work of The Index. I am glad to see the familiar writers
once more contribuling their highest and purest thought; Montgomery, Potter,
Conway, Holland, Ball, Gunning. Surd}' these ; re welcome names, and beside
this, you have already added other contributors who give promise of doing
most excellent work. The Open Court is in everv way attractive as it comes
from the press, and presents a most inviting appearance even before the con-
tents have been examined; its reconstructive work is admirable and cannot fail
to command respect even from opponents, while those in sympathy with its
aims and purposes look forward with increased interest to each successive
issue freighted as it is with such valuable material.— C. C. Stearns, Worces-
ter, Mass.
The Open Court
A Fortnightly Journal,
Devoted to the Work of Establishing Ethics and Religion Upon a Scientific Basis.
Vol. I. No. 10.
CHICAGO, JUNE 23, 1887.
j Three Dollars per Year.
I Single Copies, 15 cts.
f The first of Prof. F. Max Midler's three lectures
on the " Science of Thought," concluded in this issue,
recently appeared in the Fortnightly Review, but not
many of our readers can yet have read it in that period-
ical. The second, on " The Identity of Language and
Thought " and the third, on the " Simplicity of
Thought," not published nor to be published in England,
have been secured exclusively for The Open Court,
in which they will be printed from the author's manu-
script. This distinguished philologist believes that lan-
guage is the history of human thought, and no other
man living probably is as competent as he to read this
history understandingly, especially those pages which
indicate how men reasoned and what they thought dur-
ing the world's intellectual childhood.]
THE SIMPLICITY OF LANGUAGE.
One of three Lectures on the Science of Thought delivered at
the Royal Institution, London, March, 187S.*
BY PROF. F. MAX MllLLER.
Part II.
No doubt English is one of the richest languages,
and much of its wealth is kept only in reserve. A poet
is very eloquent who uses more than ten thousand
words. It is all the more amazing, therefore, to see the
intellectual wealth of languages spoken by the lowest
savages. Owing chiefly to Darwin's reports, it has been
the fashion to represent the inhabitants of Tierra del
Fuego as standing on the very lowest rung of the lad-
der which represents the ascent or descent of man.
You remember what Darwin said of them. They
seemed to him like the devils which come on the stage in
in such plays as the Freischiitz. " Viewing such
men," he says, " one can hardly believe that they are
fellow creatures, and inhabitants of the same world.
Their language, according to our notions," he adds,
"scarcely deserves to be called articulate. Captain
Cook has compared it to a man clearing his throat; but
certainly no European ever cleared his throat with so
many hoarse, guttural and clicking sounds!" These
Fuegians, as they appeared to Darwin, may be respon-
sible for much that is now called Darwinism. But
even with regard to the physical features of these
* Copyright, 1SS7, by The Open Court Publishing Co.
Fuegians, Darwin must either have been very unlucky
in the specimens he met, or he cannot have kept him-
self quite free from prejudice. Captain Parker Snow,
in his Two Tears' Cruise c/f Tierra del Fuego, speaks
of the same race as without the least exaggeration really
beautiful representatives of the human race. Professor
Yirchow, who exhibited a number of Fuegians at
Berlin, strongly protested against the supposition that
they were by nature an inferior race, or that they might
be considered as a connecting link between ape and man.
Captain Parker Snow sent me, in 1SS5, the following
interesting letter: "I am now over sixty-seven years
old" — that makes him now seventy — " but I would
gladly voyage again among those so-called savages,
and my wife — same age — coincides. Indeed, we have
both lived among wild tribes in various parts of the
globe, and never once received aught but kindness and
love from them, whether in the Pacific, or Australia, or
Tierra del Fuego. Nor from the days when, as a boy
in 1S34-5, I was much among them, and often since,
have I once lifted a weapon to harm them. No occa-
sion. I and mine found them honest, and above the
ordinary 'civilized' lower strata of life, ' Cannibals*
(when from necessity, or revenge, or policy — 'to imbibe
the white man's powers') though they were."
But what shall we say of their language? The
same language which to Darwin's ears seemed hardly
articulate is described by Giacomo Bovi, who learnt
their language, as consisting of parole dolci, piacevoli,
ficne di vocali. The Yahgan dialect, which has lately
been more carefully studied by missionaries, has a diction-
ary of 32,430 words. Now let us remember that Shake-
speare, in the enormous variety of his plays, achieved all
he wished to achieve, expressed all he wished to
'express, with 15,000 words, not quite half the wealth of
the language spoken by those devils of the Freischiitz,
whom Darwin could hardly believe to be fellow crea-
tures. Every one of these words represents an intel-
lectual effort, and every one of them can be either
declined, conjugated and compounded, according to the
strict laws of a most complicated grammar.
I have always had the fullest belief in Darwin's
devotion to truth, and I had expressed my conviction
that, if the real facts about the language and the gen-
eral character of the Fuegians were placed before him,
he would withdraw the strong language which he had
254
THE OPEN COURT.
used, after but a short stay among them. And so it
was. In a letter, dated Down, Kent, November 22,
1SS1, Darwin wrote to Captain Parker Snow:
"Dear Sir — I hope that you may succeed in pub-
lishing a new edition of your Cruise to Ticrra del
Fuego. You saw so much more of the natives than I
did, that, wherever we differ, you probably are in the
right. Indeed, the success of the missionary establish-
ment there proves that I took a very erroneous view of
the nature and capabilities of the Fuegians."
That is what I call real Darwinism — love of truth,
not of self or system. It is the heart that makes the
true man of science, not the brain only.
What then has the science of language done for us
in explaining that stupendous wealth of words and
forms, whether in English, or in Sanskrit, or in Hebrew,
or in Turkish, or even in the language of the so-called
devils of Tierra del Fuego? It has completely changed
the aspect of the miracle, and instead of exhibiting
language as something incomprehensible, bewildering
and supernatural, it has shown us, that the process
by which this supposed miracle of language has been
wrought is perfectly simple, natural and intelligible.
We no longer stare at language in utter bewilderment,
but we understand it. Give us the materials, and we
can build up a language, perhaps more perfect, though,
it may be, less beautiful, than English, Sanskrit or
Fuegian.
But what are these materials?
Whatever language we take, we find that it can be
analyzed, and as the result of our analysis, we find
everywhere material and formal elements. In giver
and gift, for instance, the material element is give, the
formal elements are er and /. In to wit, in witness,
and in wittingly, we easily see the permanent material
element, wit, used in the sense of knowing, and fol-
lowed by such formal elements as ness and ing. These
material elements are generally called roots, and it
stands to reason that in modern languages it is often
very difficult to discover the true roots. There have
been so many phonetic changes that in order to dis-
cover the most primitive form of a root, we must
always go back to the more primitive languages. The
same root, wit, for instance, exists in English in such
words also as history, but no one who did not know
that this word came to us from Rome and Greece,
would be able to discover the presence of the root wit
in history. In Greek we know it, because we know
that, according to fixed phonetic rules initial v is dropt,
d before t is changed to s, thus giving us istor instead
of vid-tar, the Sanskrit vet-tar.
Now this is one thing which the Science of Lan-
guage has achieved. It has discovered the material
elements or roots in all the Indo-European languages.
But wtrile this achievement belongs to the nineteenth
century with us, it belonged to the fifth century b. c.
in India. In India the earliest grammarians asked the
question, which we have asked but lately, namely,
What is language made of? and they found, as we have
found, that it consisted of those material elements or
roots, and of a certain number of formal elements, .
called suffixes, prefixes and infixes. This was a won-
derful achievement, particularly for men whom certain
people even now would call savages or niggers. The
result of this analysis or taking to pieces of the Sanskrit
language is now before us, in a list of about two
thousand roots, which is ascribed to the great gramma-
rian Pacini, who lived about the same time as
yEschylus. Given that number of roots and there is
no word in Sanskrit which Hindu grammarians do not
undertake to build up. That is to say, the whole flora
of the Sanskrit dictionary has been traced back by
them to about two thousand seeds» Wonderful as this
achievement is, we must not exaggerate. Many of the
etymologies of the native Indian scholars are fanciful.
The idea that it should be impossible to trace any word
back to a root, never entered their heads. If there is no
root, a root is invented for any special word, for accord-
ing to their views, the only object of a root is to
account for the existence of a word. Hence many of
these roots which we find collected by Pacini may be
safely set aside. From our point of view we are quite
prepared to admit that Sanskrit, like other languages,
may possess words of which the roots can no longer be
discovered. We could not discover, for instance, the
root of such a word as history, if Latin and Greek had
had been swept away out of existence; nor should we
know that the root of age was I, to go, unless we
could follow up historically the traces of that word from
age to cage, edage, cetaticum, cetas, cevitas, cevum, and
Sanskrit eva, which comes from the root I, to go.
If we sift the list of roots in Sanskrit, retaining
such roots only as can be traced in the actual literature,
the number of 2,000 dwindles down to about 800. That
is to say, with about Soo material elements we can
account for the whole verbal harvest of India. Now
that harvest is as rich as that of any other of the Aryan
languages, and what applies therefore to Sanskrit,
applies, mutatis mutandis, to Greek, Latin and all the
other Aryan languages. Their stock in trade is no
more than about 800 roots. I should even say, it is con-
siderably less, because as languages grow they drop a
number of scarce and isolated words, and supply their
wants by new derivatives, or by new metaphorical
expressions. I see that Professor Skeat, in his list of
the principal Aryan roots occurring in English, brings
their number to no more than 461.
Imagine, then, what a difference this makes in" our
view of language. We may feel bewildered by a
quarter of a million of descendants, but we can man-
age eight hundred ancestors; and if we can once manage
THE OPEN COURT.
255
these eight hundred ancestors, their descendants, what-
ever their number, need no longer perplex and
frighten us.
In this respect the Science of Language has brought
daylight where all before seemed dark and confused.
Whatever in language is not material is formal. These
formal elements are in many case£ material elements in
a metamorphic state. Thus hood in child-hood, which
is now a formal element, used to form collective and
abstract nouns, was still not many centuries back, a
living word, the Anglo-Saxon hdd, meaning state or
rank. This hdd again is related to the Gothic haidits,
meaning manner, way; and this haidus exists in San-
skrit as ketii, a sign. When we have come so far, we
ask what is this ketii, and we find that its root is kit, to
observe, to see, while u is a purely formal element, used
to form nominal and verbal bases in Sanskrit.
Besides these metamorphic words — the soil, as it
were, left by a former vegetation — the Aryan languages
make use of a number of demonstrative elements, with
which to form nouns, adjectives and verbs from roots.
These were at first intended to point to whatever was
meant to be the subject of a predicative root. If there
was a root meaning to strike, then "strike-here" might
be a striker, a fighter;" strike-there" might be "wound;"
" strike it" might be " sword." After a time these dem-
onstrative elements became differentiated and specialized,
and they stand now before us as suffixes, and termina-
tions of nouns and verbs.
What has so far been established by the Science of
Language is this, that, if we have, say, 800 material or
predicative roots, and a small number of demonstrative
elements given us, then, roughly speaking, the riddle of
language is solved. We know what language is, what
it is made of, and we are thus enabled to admire, not so
much its complexity as its translucent simplicity.
There remains, however, the old question, "Whence
these roots?" We have found them by careful digging,
we have pulled them out of the ground, and there can
be no doubt about their reality. There they are, but
people want to know how they came to be there; nay,
they seem more eager on that point than on the whole
subsequent growth of language.
There was a time when the existence of roots was
denied altogether, and words were derived straight,
either from imitations of the sounds of nature, particu-
larly the cries of birds and the shouts of animals, or
from interjections, such as we utter ourselves, whether
we like it or not, when under the sway of pleasure or pain,
or any other powerful passion. Nothing could sound
more plausible. Could the name of the cuckoo be any-
thing but the imitation of the bird's note? Could
tolderollol be anything but a shout of joy ? Do we not
hear in to chuckle the sound of suppressed laughter,
and in to chuck the clucking of the hen? Now to
chuckle means also to fondle, so that we can clearly see
how so abstract an idea as to caress or to love may be
expressed by a sound imitated straight from the cackling
of a hen.
And why should not a complete language have been
formed by the same process? If bow-bow was used
for barking, why should it not be used also in the
sense of persecuting? If pooh-pooh was an expression
of disgust, why should it not be accepted as the name of
a critical review? And if those who generally bow-bow
and pooh-pooh moderate occasionally the breath of
their indignation, or change it into a more or less loud
breeze of mutual love and admiration, why should that
not be called a. puff, from which puffer, puffery, pujfiness,
and all the rest.
All this goes on swimmingly for a short time, but
then comes a sudden precipice. There are onomatopoeic
elements in every language, but they end where real
language begins. They are like volcanic rocks break-
ing here and there through the superincumbent strati-
fied layers of speech. We know perfectly well what they
are; they require no explanation whatever; but they
are certainly not what we mean by speech, by dis-
course, or Logos. I had to fight these two theories
when I delivered my lectures on language five-and-
twenty years ago. In order to describe them by short
and clear names I called them the Bow-bow and Pooh-
pooh theories. Description was taken for irony; but
whether these names contained truth or irony, certain it
is that both these theories are now dead, never to rise
again, I hope.
But though so much is gained, and we are not
likely to be troubled again with derivations of words
direct from the crude sounds of nature, there remains
the question to be answered, namely: " What is the
origin of those roots which stand like a rampart
between the chaos of sounds expressive of mere feel-
ings and the kosmos of words expressive of concepts?"
It is perfectly right to ask that question, but it is
also right to see that such a question can admit of an
hypothetical answer only. Think of what times we are
speaking! — times when no Aryan language did exist,
when no verb or noun had yet been formed, when man,
in fact, was hardly yet man in the full sense of that
word, but only the embryo of a man, without speech,
and therefore without reason. We can enter into all
the secret workings of the human mind, building up
for itself the shell of language, after the materials were
once given. But a state of mind without language and
without reason is more than we can fully realize. All
we can do is to guess, and to guess cautiously.
There are three things that have to be explained in
roots, such as we find them:
(1) Their being intelligible not only to the speaker
but to all who listen to him;
256
THE OPEN COURT.
(2) Their having a definite body of consonants and
vowels ;
(3) Their expressing general concepts.
In my former lectures I called attention to the fact
that everything in nature that is struck vibrates and
rings. This is the widest generalisation under which
the vocal utterances of man can be classed. Under the
influence of certain emotions the human body finds relief
in more or less musical sounds, produced by the breath
passing either slowly or violently from the lungs to the
larynx and from the larynx to the mouth.
This is perfectly true; but these sounds which nat-
urally accompany our emotions, though they may
supply the material, are very far as yet from being
roots. It was Professor Noire' who first pointed out
that roots, in order to be intelligible to others, must
have been from the very first social sounds — sounds
uttered by several people together. They must have
been what he calls the clamor concomitans, uttered
almost involuntarily by a whole gang engaged in a com-
mon work. Such sounds are uttered even at present by
sailors rowing together, by peasants digging together,
by women spinning or sewing together. They are uttered
and they are understood. And not only would this clamor
concomitans be understood by all the members of a
community, but on account of its frequent repetition,
it would soon assume a more definite form than belongs
to the shouts of individuals, which constantly vary,
according to circumstances and individual tendencies.
But the most difficult problem still remains. How
did these sounds become the signs, not simply of emo-
tions but of concepts? for we must not forget all roots
are expressive of concepts. To us nothing seems more
natural than a concept. We live in concepts. Every-
thing we name, everything we reason about is concep-
tual. But how was the first concept formed? that is
the question which the Science of Thought has to solve.
At present we simply take a number of sensuous intui-
tions, and after descrying something which they share
in common, we assign a name to it, and thus get a con-
cept. For instance, seeing the same colour in coal, ink
and in a negro, we form the concept of black; or seeing
white in milk, snow and chalk, we form the concept of
white. In some cases a concept is a mere shadow of a
number of percepts, as when we speak of oaks, beeches,
and firs, as trees. But suppose we had no such names
as black and white, and tree, where would our concept
be?
We are speaking, however, of a period in the
growth of the human mind when there existed as yet
neither names nor concepts, and the question which we
have to answer is, how the roots which we have discov-
ered as the elements of language came to have a concep-
tual meaning. Now the fact is the majority of rQots
express acts, and mostly acts which men in a primitive
state of society are called upon to perform ; I mean acts
such as digging, plaiting, weaving, striking, throwing,
binding, etc. All of these are acts of which those who
perform them are ipso facto conscious ; and as most of
these acts were continuous or constantly repeated, we
see in the consciousness of these repeated acts the first
glimmer of conceptual thought, the first attempt to
comprehend many thi?igs as one. Without any effort
of their own the earliest framers of language found the
consciousness of their own repeated acts raised into con-
ceptual consciousness, while the sounds by which
these acts were accompanied became spontaneously
what we now call conceptual roots in every language.
In this manner all the requirements which roots
have to fulfill are satisfied. They are necessarily intelli-
gible to a whole community, because they refer to acts
performed in common. They have a definite or articu-
late sound, because they have been repeated so often
that all individual or dialectic variety has been elimi-
nated ; and they have become conceptual, because they
express not a single accidental act, but repeated acts
from which all that is purely accidental, temporal or
local, has been slowly removed or abstracted.
Professor Noird, who has most carefully analyzed
this primitive process in the formation of conceptual
thought, thinks that true conceptual consciousness
begins only from the time when men became conscious
of results, of facts and not only of acts. The mere con-
sciousness of the acts of digging, striking, binding, does
not satisfy him. Only when men perceive the results of
their acts — for instance, in the hole dug, in the tree
struck down, in the reeds tied together as a mat — did
they, according to him, arrive at conceptual thought in
language. I do not dispute this, but even if we
admitted that the concepts embodied in our roots did
not arrive at their full maturity till the acts which they
expressed had become realized objectively by their
results, we must not forget that every language retains
the power of predicating these roots, and that only by
that power is it able to produce its wealth of nouns and
verbs.
In Sanskrit the number of these roots has been esti-
mated at about eight hundred, and the great bulk of the
Sanskrit dictionary has been traced back to these eight
hundred living germs. But this is not all. If we
examine these eight hundred roots more carefully, we
find that they do not represent an equal number of con-
cepts. There are, for instance, about seventeen roots, all
meaning to plait, to weave, to sow, to bind, to unite; about
thirty roots, all meaning to crush, to pound, to destroy,
to waste, to rub, to smooth; about seventeen meaning
to cut, to divide, and so on. I believe the original
meaning of roots was always special, but became gen-
eralized by usage, though, on the other side, certain
roots of a general meaning became specialized also.
THE OPEN COURT.
257
But the important fact which has been established and
can no longer be doubted is, that the eight hundred
roots which supply our dictionary can be reduced to
about one hundred and twenty concepts. These one
hundred and twenty concepts are really the rivers that
feed the whole ocean of thought and speech. There is
no thought that passes through our mind, or that has
passed through the minds of the greatest poets and
prophets of old, that cannot directly or indirectly be
derived from one of these fundamental concepts. This
may seem to lower us very much. We thought our-
selves so rich, and now we find that our intellectual capi-
tal is so small; not more than one hundred and twenty
concepts. But does that prove that we are poor? I
believe not. Nature has not become poor because we
know that the infinite wealth which it displays before
our eyes consists of no more than about seventy-two
elements, nor is our mind poor because the elements of
thought have been reduced to one hundred and twenty,
and might, with some effort, be reduced to a smaller
number still. What remains to us is the power of
combination, of composition and decomposition; and if
that power has enabled us to decipher Eg) ptian hiero-
glyphics, to determine the metals in the sun, to discover
the seventy-two elements of nature, and to elicit the one
hundred and twenty elements of thought, we need not
be ashamed. Nature produces the greatest effects by
the smallest means, and man ought to be Droud to
follow her example.
RELIGIOUS PROGRESS IN SCOTLAND.
BY REV. ROBERT B. DRUMMOND.
A friend sent me the other day, a copy of a sermon
by Rev. Charles Voysey — the fifth of a series on Lord
Gifford's Will — in which there occurs the following
passage: " Edinburgh, queen of cities, is ten times more
truculent [sic\ to social opinion than London ; with even
more of secret unbelief and revolt from revelation, there
is far more outward and insincere conformity than any-
where else that I know of. Moral courage is conspicu-
ous by its absence. Mutual fear is the reigning spirit
and the ruling motive. They do not deserve to have
such a treasure, such a God-send as their Scotsman."
It may be necessary here to explain that Mr. Voysey
has been rebuking The Times and commending The
Scotsman for their respective articles on Lord Gifford's
remarkable bequest of £So,ooo to the Scottish universi-
ties for the establishment of free theological lectureships.
The Times sneered at it. The Scotsman gave it warm
welcome. Mr. Voysey continues: " It is the one gleam
of intellectual and moral light in the midst of suppressed
convictions and the deepest insincerity. The Scotsman
speaks for the poor victims of social oppression and
gives tongue to the thoughts of those who are afraid to
speak out for themselves. Indeed, on any deep question
of religion or public morality, The Scotsman is at the
head of all the British press, always faithful, always
true, always brave; and with such a spokesman, such a
leader, I am amazed at the moral cowardice which well-
nigh smothers the Scottish people and stultifies all their
just boast of superior intelligence." This is high praise
of The Scotsman, and it is not undeserved. But Mr.
Voysey does not seem to have enough considered that
even the most outspoken and independent of journals
must largely reflect the public opinion which it aspires
to guide, and if The Scotsman is one of the most pow-
erful of newspapers it can only be because it is supported
by a public which shares in its sentiments and is imbued
with its spirit. But as to what Mr. Voysey says of Edin-
burgh society, it is very much what Mr. Buckle said,
only he said it much better nearly thirty years ago. Air.
Buckle was thought at the time to have drawn an exag-
gerated picture, and indeed was taken to task by The
Scots?nan itself for the severity of his strictures. Un-
doubtedly, however, there was much justice in his re-
marks, and it may be that Scotland has profited by the
lesson. They would be much less applicable now. Of
course, there is a certain amount of truth in Mr. Voy'-
sey's censure, even still. There is, no doubt, a good deal
of hypocritical conformity; a good deal of church-going
for mere fashion's sake, or for the sake of relatives, sisters,
wives, or maiden aunts, but there is much less of this
than there was when Buckle wrote; and there is beside
a geniality, a cheerfulness, a humanity in the tone of so-
ciety which contrasts very pleasantly with the gloom
which used to be thought essential to goodliness. The
old-fashioned Sabbath is now quite out of date. Per-
haps the churches are still "as crowded as they were in
the middle ages;" but if so, there are usually plentv of
people in the parks and gardens enjoying themselves on
a fine Sunday, nor is it thought any sin to scale Arthur's
Seat or the glorious Blackford Hill. The very word
" Sawbath," which used to be universal is now heard only
from the lips of very old-fashioned people, and is gen
erally replaced by " Sunday." Of course, there is still
room for improvement, especially in the way of provid-
ing facilities for the multitude to exchange the dusty
streets for the pure air of the hills or the sea-coast; but
it will come. The truth is the Scotch, as a people, cling
fast to their national Presbyterianism, in theory at leas',
the most democratic of all forms of ecclesiasticism ; and
they are by long custom and discipline good church-
goers,—surely not a bad habit, if they find help from it,
and if the help afforded is of a kind worth having.
That a remarkable change, however, has taken place, of
late years, in the whole tone of thought, — in the attitude
of the public mind — toward the orthodox theology, and is
still going on, is clear at any rate to every one living in
Scotland, if not to those who only look at it from a
distance.
258
THE OPEN COURT.
Mr. Voysey has furnished me with a text. But I now
pass from him to notice a few of the more recent evi-
dences of the change to which I have referred. It is
now a good many years since the Rev. George Gilfillan,
of the United Presbyterian Church, recommended that
the Westminster Confession of Faith should be laid on
the historical shelf. Mr. Gilfillan was an eccentric man
and a bold man, and no doubt he had no authority to
speak for anyone but himself. But what would have
been thought at that time if the Moderator of the Kirk
of Scotland had been found claiming it as a merit, and
as a proof of his conduct and forbearance, that he had
never attacked the doctrine of the Confession. Yet
these are the very words of Dr. Cunningham, in his ad-
dress as Moderator a year ago, as reported by The
Scotsman at the time. He says: " For myself I may-
say I have always asserted great liberty in my preaching,
but I have never thought it right, I would have es-
teemed it wrong to assail or malign the doctrines of the
Confession." Assail or malign it! Why, this is the Con-
fession which every minister of the Scottish churches
subscribes at his ordination, and which he is bound by
the most solemn pledges to uphold and defend! Yet,
here is the Moderator of the General Assembly, in the
face of the whole church, boasting that he has never
attacked it. A few further sentences from Dr. Cun-
ningham's remarkable address may be quoted. " I have
found," he says, "there is a vast field both outside and
inside the Westminster Confession, some of it almost
untrodden where the most saving truths may be gath-
ered for the healing of a nation now so different from
what it was two or three centuries ago. How different
are the ideas of God and God's universe; of man, his
origin, his history, and his destiny which have recently
been revealed to us! These have not only modified our
old theological conceptions; they may almost be said to
have created a new theology." What effect these bold
words may have produced in the country manses, it is
of course impossible to say. Nothing could very de-
cently be said against the Moderator, and it seems clear
that he at any rate has laid the Confession of Faith on
the historical shelf.
Take another point. This GifFord bequest, to which
reference has already been made, is surely itself a nota-
ble sign of the times. It remains to be seen, indeed,
whether the universities will accept the responsibilities
proposed to be laid upon them; but there is, I think,
every probability that they will. The notion of free
theological teaching in the universities is not a new one.
It was taken up and favorably considered, both by Pro-
fessor Flint, of Edinburgh, and Professor Story, ot
Glasgow, at the opening of last winter session. Pro-
fessor Flint had no objection to it on principle, but op-
posed it on the ground of expediency, remarking that
as long as the churches required ministers educated in the
confessional theology, the free chairs would be starved.
No one can deny that this objection has weight. It
would be practically of little use to liberate the chairs
of theology in the universities unless the churches were
at the same time to liberate themselves. Meanwhile,
even this does not look so impossible as it did only a
short time back; and when we find Professor Candlish,
a son of the late well-known Dr. Candlish, of the Free
Church, submitting to the Glasgow Free Presbytery
an overture having for its object the revision of the
Confession, and carrying with him no less than thirty-
seven members, against forty who voted on the other
side; when we find another well-known Free Church-
man, Dr. Marcus Dods, expressing doubts " whether
creeds, used as terms of office, have not done more harm
than good," and advocating freedom of thought as
" more likely than the imposition of a creed to bring all
Christendom to a common recognition of the truth," we
begin to think that even in Scotland the days of the old
theology may be numbered.
That perfervid Celt, as Emeritus Professor Blackie
profanely called him, the Rev. Dr. MacGregor, of St.
Cuthbert's church, Edinburgh, has lately been crowing
over the growth of the Establishment. He says there is
no doubt that the Church of Scotland is increasing year
by year in numbers, and in its influence for good upon
the country. This may be, but as it cannot be supposed
that all the members and adherents of the Establish-
ment are politically in favor of State-aided religion, it
is only another evidence of the growth of moderate
opinion. For of all the Presbyterian churches, there
can be no doubt that the Established is by far the freest,
the broadest, the most rational and the most progressive.
The sermons preached in her pulpits may not be charac-
terized by what can strictly be called advanced thought,
though that is not altogether wanting, but it is believed
there is a geniality, a breadth, a humanity about them
which are not to be found, or found only in a much less
degree, in those of the other Presbyterian communions.
All the more, of course, is it to be regretted that she
should still profess a creed which is so far from repre-
senting her real opinion and belief. Dr. MacGregor
would, no doubt, be glad to see a great Presbyterian
union, in which all the churches at present competing
against one another should be banded together, to make
one compact body strong enough to resist all the forces
of unbelief, agnosticism, and whatever else is most hate-
ful to the ecclesiastical bosom. He is not likely to see
it. In the first place, whatever he may say, disestab-
lishment will come, and, if the Irish question were dis-
posed of, it would be even " within measurable dis-
tance." Then, if it were to come, union would be no
nearer than before. There would simply be a new
arrangement of elements. Affinities would be freer to
act, and fresh combinations would take place. Possibly,
THE OPEN COURT.
2 59
indeed almost certainly, the more evangelical section of
the present Established Church would unite with the
Free Church, and perhaps the United Presbyterians, to
form a strong church on the old theological foundation.
There might be a second church with <i reformed con-
fession— say the Confession of Westminster with the
Calvinism left out. But almost certainly there would
be a church reallv free — creedless, confessionless — stand-
ing on the broad ground of humanity, and wide enough
to take into its motherly arms not only the Unitarian,
but freethinkers of every shade, so far as they desired
any union implying religion and worship. This, at
least, seems to be, in the meantime, the best hope for
Scotland and for the progress of free religion there.
OUR VIKING ANCESTORS, AND WHAT WE OWE
TO THEM.
BY SAMUEL KNEELAND, M.D.
The popular opinion, founded on the chronicles and
annals of English and French ecclesiastics, their ene-
mies in race and religion, is that the Vikings were a set of
blood-thirsty pirates and robbers, whose hands were
against everybody worth plundering, and even against
the successful of their own numbers — who spared neither
age, sex, nor condition — who had no sense of justice,
honor, or mercy — who were, in fact, to use tne language
of the French chroniclers, " men of hell, the spawn of
the devil " — whose ravages were so constant and so ter-
rible that this special clause was inserted in the prayer
books of the ninth to the eleventh centuries, " from the
rage of the Northmen, good Lord, deliver us." Is this
a'just representation of them? I think not. Barbarous
they were, fierce and lawless, but no more so than their
opponents in that age, when might made right. One
need only look over the venerable Bede, the old Saxon
chronicles, and the English annals to see that the spirit
of the times was inhuman, and that Saxon and Frank,
Dane and Angle, were no better than the Vikings.
Their work was not simply to kill and rob, but to ex-
plore, colonize, and trade; their influence is now felt in
all English-speaking peoples, and the principles most
dear to constitutional governments can be traced to these
old Viking warriors.
Omitting the Finnish and Slavonic races (Vends),
who preceded them in Scandinavia, let. us begin with
the historic Odin and his hordes from Scythia, who set-
tled in Denmark and its islands, finally occupying the
western shores of the Baltic — fierce pirates and robbers.
The Saxons, a name given to all those roving tribes, had
possession of Britain in 374, in Kent at the south, and
the Orkneys and Shetlands at the north. Even in the
fifth century, the Vends terrified Denmark by their ex-
treme ferocity; but in the sixth, the Scandinavians be-
came the stronger, and formed a kind of offensive and
defensive league against them; but they were by no
means a happy ami united family. According as fortune
favored one party, his neighbors fell upon him for their
share or the whole of his plunder; so that, while all
united in ravaging Britain and the Vends, the Frisians
and Jutes plundered the Saxons, the Danes the Swedes,
and the Norwegians the Scanians — and all were enemies
of the Finns, who were regarded as scorcerers and
wizards.
On the sandy shores of Friesland and the lands bor-
dering on the Baltic, their hordes became pirates from
necessity, as the Arabs of the desert must be robbers;
while the soil was unproductive, the sea was their harvest
field and their camping ground; the many creeks (viks)
served them for hiding places and harbors, and all their
surroundings were favorable for plundering excursions,
and even expeditions to distant fertile and richer shores.
They were naturally seamen, from their great extent of
coast line, which is the secret of their power as warriors,
their wealth and intelligence as traders, and their suc-
cess as bold discoverers. The Northern ocean on the
west, the Baltic and the Gulf of Bothnia on the east,
could not satisfy their energy and their longings; in
their small but strong boats or galleys they braved the
fury of the Atlantic, discovered and settled Iceland and
Greenland, and planted a colony in Vinland, Mass., four
centuries before Columbus saw the American shore —
alwajs, it will be noticed, maritime. As Northmen or
Vikings, they controlled the northern seas from the
eighth to the eleventh century, and these were princi-
pally Danes; first making voyages along the English
coasts, they wintered on its southern border in the mid-
dle of the ninth century, and soon after established
themselves in possession, ruling it under Sweyn, Canute
and his sons, for nearly fifty years; at the same time
they had their kings in Ireland, and early occupied the
Orkneys, Shetlands, and Hebrides. The Danes went
chiefly to England and France, the Norwegians to
Scotland, Ireland, and the northern islands. The Va-
rangians were Northmen, who with their fleets entered
the Mediterranean, and ravaged in the neighborhood of
Constantinople in the latter part of the ninth century,
afterward forming the body guard of the Byzantine
emperors. From the sixth to the ninth centuries they
plundered on the coasts of France and Holland, boldly
penetrating into the heart of the country, ascending the
shallow rivers in their flat-bottomed boats, by day their
means of conveyance, by night, drawn on shore and
covered with a tent, serving as shelters. In like manner
they entered Germany, Spain, Portugal, Italy, and
Sicily, carrying destruction in their train. From the
Norwegian Hrolf, or Rollo, the first earl of Normandy
was descended, in the sixth generation, William the
Conquerer, who with his Normans, French in lan-
guage but Northmen in energy and bravery, found the
i6o
THE OPEN COURT.
stoutest resistance on English soil from those of his own
race.
These Vikings appeared on the coasts of Europe only
for plunder, were greatly feared for their irresistible
fleets, and consequently had the reputation of being the
embodiment of every thing that was wicked, in the
minds of their victims and enemies. Fortunately, from
their Sagas this may be in a measure corrected, and we
are forced, by the corroborating testimony of the finds,
to admit that they were not without noble qualities, cul-
ture and refinement. They were brave, generous to a
defeated enemy, eloquent speakers, wise politicians and
able rulers. No doubt they committed many acts of
wanton cruelty, but their robberies can be matched by
the spoilers of the nineteenth century ; if opposed, their
raids frequently ended in foreign conquests, in which
neither homes nor sacred buildings were spared. At
home they passed the summer in fishing, hunting and
stealing from their neighbors ; the long winters they spent
in carousing, listening to the songs of their bards, relating
their exploits, praising real or legendary heroes, en-
couraging the young men to similar deeds of daring, and
in planning. expeditions for the coming spring.
Accustomed to the strife of the elements, and con-
stantly warring with each other, of necessity depending
on personal prowess, they became fearless, independent^
self-reliant; their cardinal maxim was, "might makes
right;" while rapacious, they were magnanimous; care-
less of the rights of others, yet fighting to the death for
their own; eager to die in battle, which they regarded
as a sure passport to the Valhalla, the hall of Odin's
chosen warriors. Impelled by their strong will and
fierce passions, energy and heroic endurance were their
dominant characteristics. The young Viking was edu-
cated, like the Spartan youth, to the use of arms and a
life of fighting; so great was their strength, skill and
courage that at the age of twelve to fifteen years they
were formidable foes. No family line was allowed, as
in these days, to depend for its continuance on a sickly
heir, unable to bear arms; only healthy children were,
as a rule, allowed to live. The boy was of age when
he could do man's work, and wield his father's sword,
spear and shield. Revenge they considered a sacred
duty ; " blood for blood " was their law, but as they de-
generated at the approach of the historic period, and
became softened by Christian association, money was
often accepted as the price of vengeance. They placed
dependence on merit only; the knew no "blue blood,"
except that accident of high birth only made their
responsibility the greater; they fully believed in n- blesse
ob/itrc. They asked of their candidates for leadership,
" what can you do?" or, " what have you done?" — not
what did your father or grandfather do. They acknowl-
edged nature's nobility, and not that purchasable by
money, with a tainted name. Their aim was to do
something, and to do it well; it was their custom, as we
know from their Sagas, at their feasts, funereal or joy-
ful, for the warriors to make a solemn vow to perform
some bold and hazardous deed, not always creditable, or
die in the attempt; some of the most exciting and beauti-
ful of these tales are the relations of these exploits — im-
agine a chief of Tammany, or any city hall, doing such
a thing! With this barbarian character, they were fond
of poetry, heroic, sentimental and historic, and it was
the delight of all classes to listen to the recitals of their
bards.
To sum up their characteristics — these were courage
and faith to bear the hard decrees of fate, in which they
firmly believed, and to fight against their enemies; in-
dependence in thought and action ; regard for oaths and
promises; faithfulness in friendship and love, but craft
against craft; vengeance on their foes; respect for old
age; hospitality, liberality and charity; temperance
and cheerful content; modesty and politeness; desire
for the good opinion of others, and careful treatment
of the dead. All these are given in the Havamal and
other Eddas, forming a code of morality which, consid-
ering the lawlessness of the times, must excite surprise
and challenge admiration. Such were the characteris-
tics of the Vikings, to whom English-speaking peoples
owe many of their best traits and privileges; and yet
they have been called savage barbarians, without regard
to God or man, because their bravery sometimes degen-
erated into fierceness and cruelty, and their independence
into obstinate self-will.
To these Vikings we owe public meetings for the
general welfare, called " Things," invested with legisla-
tive, judicial, and executive powers, the first "Open
Court," to which all freemen went as a great and sacred
privilege; their sound political wisdom is shown in their
laws and penalties. Public opinion was just, severe and
more powerful than law in preserving the honor, integ-
rity, and good name of these freemen. In short, we
owe to these so-called northern barbarians most of what
has been and is of value to man as a member of society,,
in Europe and America, viz. : representative govern-
ment, public meetings, trial by jury (the twelve men
often appealed to in the Sagas), security of property,
freedom of speech and person, public opinion as a guide
in politics, respect for woman, liberty of religious belief,
etc. The republic of Iceland evolved the English
Magna Charta, and from that the declaration of Amer-
ican independence, and will eventually produce univer-
sal constitutional freedom, or, to use President Lincoln's
famous expression, " that government of the people, by
the people, and for the people, which shall not perish from
the earth."
The Norsemen raised woman to her true and equal
position; she was not a slave without soul, as in the
East; nor a toy, as in Greece; nor a mere housekeeper
THE OPEN COURT.
261
with the keys, as in Rome; they believed that her
sharper perceptive powers gave her a keener insight
into divine things than the slower reasoning of man,
that she was nearer to the gods and knew the future-
Their ideas of her future state we know not; they had
no paradise for females, pointing, as in Mohammedan-
ism, to an Eastern origin; she would find no heaven in
the Odinic Valhalla, and had to go to the lower world
of Hela, with those who died of disease and in their
beds — and that is about all we know.
Beside the memorials of the Vikings in the names
of the first six days of the week, their fairy tales have
come down to us, filled with elves, dwarfs, mermaids,
nicks and nisses; many of our nursery rhymes, much
of "Mother Goose," are well known to the Norse peo-
ple, their originators.
They were consummate naval architects, as the
finds prove; their descendants in America, mixed Danes,
Anglo-Saxons and Norwegians, English-speaking all,
have inherited their skill and improved upon their
models. The " Puritan " and " Mayflower " are evolu-
tions from the Norse galley, the former built for peace-
ful contests, the latter for war. King Olaf, Niels Juel
and Tordenskjold find their modern counterparts in Nel-
son and Farragut; Erik the Red and Leif his son lived
in spirit in Franklin, Kane, Livingstone and Stanley.
The bold, free, adventurous spirit which animated the
Vikings makes the English-speaking peoples the mas-
ters of the seas, whether for conquest or discovery,
from the frozen ocean to the tropics, from Geeenland
to India and Africa.
LIVE AND NOT LET LIVE.
BY WHEELBARROW.
This is the motto of monopoly, the creed of selfish-
ness, the religion of greed, and it makes no difference
whether it is practiced by the man of millions, or by him
who has no capital but his trade.
I sign my name " Wheelbarrow," because that is the
implement of my handicraft, or was, when I was a strong
man. I was by profession a "railroad man;" my part
of the railroad business was making the roadbed, by the
aid of a pick, a shovel and a wheelbarrow. I was a
skilled workman, and had obtained the highest diploma
that could be got in the profession. Jemmy Hill and
myself worked on the same plank, and so buoyant and
easy did we make the trip up and down, and dump the
dirt into the exact spot, that we were worth twenty per
cent, more than any other men on the job. There was
a superanuated old Irishman in our "gang" who had
helped in building every railroad from Montreal to Min-
neapolis ;.he had become too stiff for the wheelbarrow
and the pick, and was reduced to the shovel alone, which
he could still handle tolerably well; his duty was to stay
on top of the pile and "level off" with the shovel. His
work was made hard or easy according to the skill of
the rest. Awkward fellows would dump their loads in
a dead heap, maybe a couple of feet from the place,
leaving him to shovel it the rest of the way, while
Jemmy and I would give the loads a flirt with the right
wrist, or the left, as the case might be, and scatter the
dirt on the precise location, leaving Tim nothing to do
but give it a couple of taps for form's sake. One day
he burst into admiration at our skill, and said, " Yez
could wheel on a horse's rib." I show this diploma, not
from vanity, but as proof that I graduated with high
honors in the railroad college.
You may sneer at classing dirt shoveling with
" skilled labor." A hundred dollars to one that you can't
wheel a 'barrow full of dirt up a plank, say at the easy
incline of 30 degrees, without looking at your feet, and
the same wager that you can't come down the plank,
dragging the empty 'barrow behind you, without run-
ning the wheel off the track. You won't take the bet?
Very well; then don't make fun of my diploma until
you are able to " wheel on a horse's rib."
One day a greenhorn came along and got a job in
our gang; he was awkward as a landlubber trying to
climb the top-gallantmast. He would look at his feet as
he went up the plank, and the wheel of the 'barrow
would run off; he would look at the wheel, and his feet
would step off; he asked advice, but we who had learned
the trade had now become monopolists, and refused to
give any instruction; all of us except Jemmy Hill; he
took the fellow in hand, and showed him how to walk
the plank, which he obviously had no right whatever to
do. That night, up at the shanty where we lived, my
tongue swaggered a good deal, to the admiration of
everybody except Jemmy Hill. I gushed eloquently
about the wrong done us in employing greenhorn
wheelers and " plug " shovelers, and we proposed to
form ourselves into a " brotherhood" to protect ourselves
against monopoly, and especially making it a capital
offense for one of the "brotherhood" to teach a fellow-
creature how to wheel a 'barrow full of dirt up a plank.
The next day was Sunday, and Jemmy and I took a
walk to a favorite spot where we used to smoke our
pipes and gossip. The glorious St. Lawrence rolled at
our feet, and the sun shone bright overhead. Jemmy
was a young fellow from the North of Ireland, about
five feet nine or ten, slim, all sinew and bone, blue eyes,
light hair, and a fair, smooth face, beautiful as a girl's.
He had a soft, musical voice, and there was nothing
manly about him, except that he liked to smoke; but he
was brave as Phil. Sheridan; he was a holy terror in
a fight; I saw him scatter a dozen fellows once in a riot,
like Samson used to clear out those Philistines. He is
president of a railroad now, and rides in his own special
car, in which there is always a welcome berth for me.
We talked about the necessity of protecting our
262
THE OPEN COURT.
craft from "plug" workmen, or, rather, I did; Jemmy
merely smoked his pipe and listened. At last he pulled
out of his pocket a watch-charm, and handed it to me
to examine. The crest on it was a couple of torches,
one lighting the other, with this motto underneath:
" My light is none the less for lighting my neighbor."
He explained that this was the motto of some secret
society that he belonged to in Belfast; I forget the name
of it now, but no matter, that was the motto of it, " My
light is none the less for lighting my neighbor." I
accepted the rebuke, and acknowledged that the motto
was a good one. That was many years ago, but the
longer I live the more I am convinced that it is sound
in political science and social economy. It is the very
antithesis of the narrow principle, " Live and not let
live."
I commend it to workingmen the world over; the
practice of it will make them better, happier and richer
than the other principle, which cannot become general
without reducing the world to barbarism. Had this
been the motto of the telegraph brotherhood it might
have saved them the humilation of "signing the docu-
ment," it might have spared them the necessity of the
strike, and even in their failure it would have secured to
them the sympathy of all men whose good opinion
was worth having. How can we sympathize with men
in a struggle with monopoly who themselves seek to
become monopolists of the knowledge that earns bread,
who in the very charter of their order pledge themselves
to one another never to teach their trade, and who seek
to control the free action of their brother craftsmen?
Men who would enslave others easily become slaves,
and the telegraphers who left their keys free men and
proud returned to them in a month with their liberty
signed away. George Stephenson, the greatest engineer
of modern times, or perhaps of any time, was refused ad-
mission into the "order" of engineers because he was a
" plug," who had never served an apprenticeship. The
men who did that would have deprived him of his genius
if they could, although that genius has multiplied the
comforts of man a hundred or a thousand fold.
Men are interested not in the downfall, but in the
upraising of one another; not in the poverty of any, but
in the riches of all; not in the ignorance of a part, but in
the intelligence and wisdom of the whole. The contrary
principle impairs the symmetry of the moral universe,
whose laws are perfect and harmonious as the laws
which govern matter. Every man is interested in the
welfare and prosperity of every other man; none can
suffer loss without all sharing in it. I cannot show you
where I lost a penny by the great Chicago fire, and yet
I know that two or three hundred million dollars worth
of property could not be blotted out of existence with-
out my losing something somewhere. I cannot show
you that I lost a dollar by the Franco-German war, and
yet I know that two great nations cannot destroy tens
of thousands of each other's men, and tens of millions of
each other's property without my losing something.
This world of ours is a small world, and no part of it is
so remote from me that people can suffer loss without
my sharing in that loss; and conversely, mankind can
not grow richer and leave me poorer, nor wiser and
leave me ignorant, nor better and leave me worse.
That is my religion, and, in the language of Ingersoll,
" Upon that rock I stand."
THE CROSS OF THE NEW CRUSADE.
BY PROF. VAN BUREN DENSLOW.
The old crusades were a brutal outgrowth of super-
stitious ignorance and religiously insane stupidity. There
was nothing respectable about them save the persistency
with which the nature of things wrecked them. They
were the greatest waste of motive, blood and effort ever
made in history and the most effectual lesson going to
prove that it is when men mean to be the establishers of
righteousness and the special patrons and protectors of
God that they most nearly lose their reason and commit
their most hardened and atrocious crimes.
Men, therefore, are not to be either trusted or respected
merely because they move in considerable masses toward
the attainment of any result. On the contrary sanity
and soberness, as often as the crowd are seized by some
epidemic of unreason retire their possessors from influ-
ence, while a falling in with the craze of the hour, or
becoming the craziest man in the craze, leads to fame
and even to fortune.
The craze of the present hour is the attempted cross
between political economy and religion, known as anti-
povertyism, which like the cross between the white and
black races, brings out into conspicuous relief the worst
qualities of both parents and the good qualities of neither.
Political economy has always consisted of sensations
produced by assaults upon common sense, and religion
has maintained its good name by making its promises
redeemable in a future state from whence, if they are
not redeemed, no notice of protest ever gets back to the
endorser. The anti-poverty creed is economic in that
it attacks common sense savagely. It is religious in that
it makes no promises which can come back to torment
those who issue them until, like the Yankee clock-seller
in Georgia, they have had time to provide a new clock
in place of the one that "wont go." Like religion it
promises a heaven to its disciples, but differs from most
religions in making heaven consist of real estate in this
world instead of harps and timbrels in the next. Instead
of telling its devotees they shall in another world "in-
herit the earth," it assures them the real estate is now
theirs, but must be recovered by ejectment of its present
possessors. Instead of taking out a writ of ejectment from
the courts, however, they are to apply to the legislature
THE OPEN COURT.
263
to take them out somewhat as woodchucks who can't be
hounded out of their holes are smoked out. Anti-poverty-
ism is a long name for what the early saints called the wor-
ship of Mammon, or the new golden calf on wheels. It re-
sembles its father, political economy, in two things. It
resists assault by creating a smudge of obscure smoke
which makes the eyes sore to peer through, and which
none but the very dull can see through at all. And it
teaches that we are saved by wealth and not by faith.
It resembles its mother, religion, in holding that wealth
is given by the grace of God and that it ought to be so
possessed by all, that it would cease to buy the services
of any. The highest utility of wealth it thinks will be
attained only when none will seek to possess it. True,
it will then have lost all purchasing power, but it will
be every man's comfort to know, as in the case of Con-
federate notes, it is easy to get hold of a large supply.
No name could fit so well this hybrid between religion
and the philosophy of pelf as that of " The Cross of the
New Crusade."
The crusaders of the middle ages could see nothing
obscure or doubtful in the platform that if the world
was ever to be made happy it must be by rescuing the
possession of a rock in Judea in which a Jewish prophet
had been buried, out of the possession of certain gentle-
men of the Unitarian persuasion and Saracen extraction
who had failed to discover that this Jewish prophet was
the creator of the universe. To them the proposition
that taxing the Saracens out of existence would diffuse
sweet peace in every pious breast was too plain to need
argument. What good thing could men possibly lack
when the sepulcher of Jesus was again possessed by
Christians? So to George and McGlynn it is clearer
than day that to prevent any man from acquiring a
home, by precluding all private title to a home, will give
homes to all the homeless, and make all persons the per-
manent and happy possessors of that which each person
is precluded from permantly and happily possessing.
"Ah, but," say these real estate Christs, "you must
state our gospel in our own language. We will not be
responsible for any definition of our principles which
we do not coin ourselves. We tell you that under the
new socialistic state to be arrived at by taxing all ground
rents until no man shall remain entitled to a ground
rent, there will be the greatest possible disposition on
the part of all owners of land to improve the land.
Only by improving the land can they get a rent at all.
Rent will accrue only on the improvements and not on
the land."
The rental of improved lands is thus made to be
brought into court, like the baby before Solomon, to be
cut in two to determine how much of its life shall be
bled away in behalf of the improver and how much
of it shall be drank up by the sand to appease the de-
mands of the State. It is forgotten that any such
metaphysical division of rents destroys rents. It is like
cutting away in a man the portion derived from vege-
table from the part derived from animal food. When
the knife enters to make the dissection the soul goes out
and there is no man. Land can not be improved, and
rents can not exist, where the moment a value is created
in land it is confiscated. For in principle the theory
might as well be applied to all forms of personal prop-
erty. We might as well divide the total value of the
table or chair between the portion of value that inheres
in the wood of which it is made and the part that is de-
rived from labor. The wood before its severance from
its trunk was part of the land; hence, according to
George, it was created by God. Hence, it belongs to the
State. Hence, it is only by an act of robbery and spoli-
ation "exploited" into private ownership. Only the
portion of value which is derived from labor may
justly belong to its possessor. So we might divide the
house, the watch or the piano, between God as the
source of the raw materials or constituent properties,
and man as the source of certain labor rendered thereon.
Giving the former to the State, all private title to per-
sonal property of every kind, as well as real, would be
resolved into spoliation and plunder. Thus may a fine
theological subtletv be lugged into the real estate busi-
ness, and the question whether land which I have paid
for belongs to you or me can be determined by a series
of casuistries concerning God, whom neither of us
knows anything about or has any facilities whereby we
can learn anything about him. Meanwhile property be-
comes blasphemy according to this fine phrenzy, and
the man who saves is thrust behind bars as being the
man who steals. The complainant in the case is God,
and the fact that God enters the complaint is certified to
by the strong assurance afforded by human cheek, gall,
brass, presumption and impudence. It may be in vain
to hope to dispel this idiocy, as all idiocy is without cure,
but chiefly the idiocy that has the power to rant and
breed ranters. Still the unstricken will see that ground
rent means a payment for the use of desirable space.
It is not a thing which can be either taxed out of exist-
ence or owned by the .State, even in the most paralyzed
and savage conditions of society.
When George and McGlynn themselves hold a
meeting, they bring into existence the very element
which they say they meet to tax out of existence, viz.,
ground rent. In the very Academy of Music, wherein
they meet, at fifteen minutes before their time of meet-
ing but in consequence of their anticipated meeting,
every seat in the Academy becomes the subject of a
ground rent. This gate fee is a money-value which
purchasers will pay for a certain space in consequence
of its contiguity to a part of the societary movement.
The societary movement in this case is the attraction
presented by the combined presence of a pretended
264
THE OPEN- COURT.
economist peddling a new kind of heaven, and a popular
priest vouching for a new fiction in economic imposture.
Both are promising certain social sugar-plums which
they will never deliver. Notwithstanding the promise
is a swindle it confers a money value on the seats. It
creates an active competition for their possession. This
economic value is rent. Let the government now exact
that Henry George and Dr. McGlynn shall show how
much of this ground rent is due to the labor which con-
structed the seats and how much is due to the societary
movement that attracted the crowd. It would be like
showing how much of the rose is due to the sun and
how much to the soil. In default of their being able to
make this impossible metaphysical division in relation to
this physical fact let the government of course take the
whole rent as a penalty for the imposture. On these
terms George and McGlynn would not hold the meet-
ing. Their ground rents, gate fees, contributions, or
what you will, would be taxed out of existence, but pur-
suant to their own theory. They would be hoisted by
their own petard.
Where two concurrent conditions must both co-
operate before any fact can exist there can be no division
between these conditions to ascertain the degree in which
each contributes to the result. To do so would be to
measure the immeasurable and to set prescribed bounds
to the absolute. Each contributes in whole, not in part,
to the result, and to borrow the form of a certain legal
phrase, the effect is seized of each as its entire cause and
not of either as a separate and distinct part of its cause.
The attempt to divide that portion of the values of
land which accrue from the labor of its possessors from
that portion which accrue from the societary movement
is like an attempt to divide the body of a child between
his two parents; the division destroys its subject. Tax
George's meeting to the full value of the seats, whether
in gate fees or contributions, and there will be no meet-
ings of George's disciples. Apply his doctrine to him-
self and he would be instantly deprived of the power to
advocate it.
I would suggest, therefore, to our legislatures and
city councils to be passed and enforced either as a statute
or a city ordinance the following concise law:
Be it Enacted, That
1. Whereas, a party favors the abolition of ground rents, and
2. Whereas, this party holds meetings, which are sustained by the ground
rents of seats therein, collected either in the form of an admission fee at the
door or of voluntary contributions; and
3. Whereas, this party believes the world will be made happy by confis-
cating all ground rents in whatever form to the State, and
4. Whereas, the State concurs in this opinion so far as resp< cts the
ground rents of all meetings held explicitly to abolish ground rents, and
5. Whereas, there can be no direction in which to begin to apply a new
and benevolent principle which will be so just or appropriate as to apply it first
to those who are the first to desire its application, therefore
It is Enacted, That the admission fees and contributions taken in all meet-
ings held bv any party having in view the advocacy of the abolition of ground
rents shall be collected by the police only, and shall be paid into the city and State
treasuries exclusively for the maintenance of such of the insane as shall be de-
prived of their usefulness to society through their mental incapacity to with-
stand the seductive flattery with which Henry George seeks to persuade every
man who fails to acquire property that the reason he has not acquired it is be-
cause he has been robbed of it by the man who has.
This would prove the George-McGlynn medicine
by observing its symptoms when applied to the doctors
who prescribe it. It is well known that many physicians
prove their medicines by first taking them themselves.
It is not uncommon to meet doctors who have been so
unfortunate in their sincerity as to follow this practice.
But it is extremely uncommon to continue to meet them
long. They follow so soon in the long procession of
their patients.
If our legislatures and city councils will only com-
mend Henry George's chalice to his own lips, and if he
thrives on it I do not doubt that all other receivers of
ground rents, whether for long or short terms, will stand
ready to drink from the same cup.
Meanwhile, might it not be well for the new crusad-
ers to inquire whether it was the sepulcher of buried
superstitions at Jerusalem that emancipated the laborer
from his lord, or whether it was not the iron and steel
furnaces at Damascus. Was it the ignorant Christians
who left their huts and caves in Europe to carry the
sword into Judea that were truly noble in their work or
was it the Turks who responded to slaughter with the
gifts of tea, cotton, the loom, mathematics and science.
Doubtless under the iniquities of the crusades some
stray flower of utility or beauty may have bloomed.
But the crusades in bulk were a dead cataract of human
hate — a prolonged Niagara of social insanity — equally
fatal to the life that stood under and the life that came
over. Ignorance only can inspire the furious zealots
who suppose a revival of their spirit can do good.
TH. RIBOT ON MEMORY.*
BY DR. PAUL CARL'S.
Memory, as generally understood, is the outcome of
a long evolution; as such it is first a biological fact, and
only secondarily a psychological fact. In other words,
consciousness is not an entity, but an incidental phenom-
enon. Certain nervous processes are accompanied by
consciousness.
Memory, in the usual sense, comprises three things :
1. The conservation of certain states — we would prefer
to call it forms, which perhaps is a more precise expres-
sion than the French word ctat ; — 3. Their reproduction ;
3. Their localization in the past. The last point makes
memory perfect; at this stage it is commonly called
recollection. The first two are indispensable and, as a
rule, stable. The third element, which is purely psycho-
logical, is unstable; it appears and disappears; it repre-
sents the range of consciousness in the realm of memory,
and nothing more.
*I present in the following sketches Th. Ribnt's views of the most im-
portant psychological problems, and begin with Memory, where the famous
French scientist follows the trail of his German contemporary, Professor Ewald
Hering. Ribot's method, which is employed in manv cases very successfully,
is to get at a right undemanding of evolution bv studying the inverse process,
viz., dissolution as it is exhibited in different morbid states. As I am anxious to
present Ribot's views, and not my opinion on his views, I shall be careful to
retain, wherever possible, Ribot's own expressions. P. C.
THE OPEN COURT.
Reflex actions, if often repeated, grow automatic
with all their associations. Without seeking for extra-
ordinary illustrations, we find in every-day life long
chains of organic, complex, and carefully determined
acts, whose links, all differing from one another, follow
in a constant order; for example, the ascent and descent
of a staircase which we haye often used. Our psycho-
logical or conscious memory is ignorant of the number
of steps; but the organic, or unconscious, memory is
familiar with them as well as the number of flights, the
arrangement of the landings, and other details; it is not
easily deceived.
The conservation and reproduction of such nervous
actions are independent of consciousness. Trousseau, in
his Lecons Cliniques (II, 41-2), reports the following
case: "A musician who played the violin in an orches-
tra, was frequently seized with momentary loss of con-
sciousness during a musical performance. But he con-
tinued to play, and kept time, although remaining in
absolute ignorance of his surroundings. He neither
saw nor heard those whom he accompanied." From
such cases we learn that consciousness has its own
peculiar sphere. We have to reduce the part it plays
to proper proportions. The sudden absence of con-
sciousness proves it to be nothing short of an additional
element in the mechanism of memory.
The question as to the seat of memory can give no
room for serious controversy. The law, as formulated
by Bain, is that the renewed impression occupies exactly
the same parts as the original impression. It is impos-
sible to say in what the modification of the nervous sub-
stance consists. Neither the microscope, nor re-agents,
nor histology, nor histo-chemistry can reveal it; but facts
and reason indicate that a modification takes place, when
sensations or movements are recorded in nervous tissue.
A rich and well equipped memory is not a collection
of imprints but an arrangement (un ense?nble) of dy-
namical associations very stable and very ready for
resuscitation.
Memory, accompanied by consciousness, is a more
complex form than automatic memory, for every phys-
ical action presupposes a nervous action, but the reverse
is by no means true. If we consider consciousness as
an essence, or a fundamental property of the mind, all
is obscure ; if we consider it as a phenomenon having
its ozcn conditions of existence, all becomes clear. This
understood, unconscious activity loses its mysterious
character and is explained with the greatest ease.
One example may serve for many to show how
noiselessly unconscious cerebration does its work. Car-
penter in his Mental Physiology relates among other
similar cases: "A mathematician was occupied with a
geometrical problem the solution of which he foiled to
obtain after a number of trials. Several years later the
correct solution flashed upon his mind so suddenly that
he trembled as if another person had communicated to
him his own secret."
The nervous system is traversed by continuous dis-
charges. Among these nervous actions some respond
to the unceasing harmonious activity of the vital func-
tions; others, fewer in number to the succession of states
of consciousne-s; still others, by far the most numerous
to unconscious cerebration. Six hundred million cells
and four or five thousand million fibers, even deducting
those in repose or which remain inactive during a life-
time, offer a sufficient contingent of active elements.
The brain is like a laboratory full of movement, where
thousands of occupations are going on at once. Uncon-
scious cerebration may act in several directions at the
same moment. Consciousness is the narrow gate
through which a very small part of all this work makes
its appearance.
The psycho-physiological residue of memory which
is produced in our nerves by recording perceptions and
sensations may be styled with Wundt a. disposition. He
says in his Grundziige der Philosopliischcu Psychologic :
" The eye, each day comparing and measuring distances
and relations in space, gains more and more in precision.
The consecutive image is an imprint; the accommoda-
tion of the eye, its faculty of measurement, is a functional
disposition. It may be that, in the case of the unexer-
cised eye, the retina and the muscles are constituted the
same as in the exercised organ, but there is in the second
a disposition much more marked than in the first."
Each of us has in his consciousness a certain number
of recollections: images of men, animals, cities, countries,
facts of history, or science or language. These recol-
lections come back to us in the form of a more or less
extended series of associations. Take as one of these
terms the memory of an apple. According to the ver-
dict of consciousness, this is a simple fact. Physiology
shows that this verdict is an illusion. The memory of
an apple is necessarily a weakened form of the percep-
tion of an apple. What does this perception suppose?
A modification of the complex structure of the retina,
transmission by the optic nerve through the corpora
geniculata and the tubercula quadrigemina, then through
the white substance to the cortex. This presupposes the
activity of many widely separated elements. But this is
by no means all. It is not a question of a simple sensa-
tion of color. We see, or imagine, the apple as a solid
object having a spherical form. These conceptions re-
sult from the exquisite muscular sensibility of our visual
apparatus and from its movements. Now, the move-
ments of the eye are regulated by several nerves, viz.,
the sympathetic, the oculo-motor and its branches.
Each of these nerves has its own termination, and is con-
nected by a devious course with the outer cerebral layer,
where the motor intuitions, according to Maudsley, are
formed. We simply indicate outlines and give an idea
266
THE OPEN COURT.
of the prodigious number of nervous filaments and dis-
tinct communities of cells scattered through the different
parts of the cerebro-spinal axis, which serve as a basis
for the psychical state known as the memory of an apple,
and which the double illusion of consciousness and lan-
guage leads us to consider as a simple fact. Visual per-
ception is more complex still, and if we take a spoken
word the complexity is equally great. Articulate lan-
guage supposes the intervention of the larynx, the
pharynx, the lips, the nasal fossa, and, consequently, of
many nerves having centers in different parts of the
brain, viz., the spinal, the facial, and the hypoglossal
nerves. If we include auditory impressions in the
memory of words, the complication is greater still. This
shows the importance of the associations which Mr.
Ribot calls the dynamic bases of memory, the modifica-
tions impressed upon the elements being static bases.
The static bases produce those untraceable changes
of the nervous substance which are marked by the dif-
ferent dispositions. They modify the forms of the nerv-
ous cells in some way or other. The dynamic bases are
the anatomical conditions of what is called in psychology
association of ideas; they form combinations which con-
nect certain parts-of the brain; if one nervous cell is irri-
tated, many others, being in communication with it are
also called into action.
When we begin to talk, we use first simple words;
later, isolated phrases. For a long time we do not
realize that these 'words are made up of simple elements;
many are always ignorant of the fact. Forbes Winslow
(On the Obscure Diseases of the Brain and Disorders
of the Mind. Fourth edition, p. 2^,7.) cites the case of a
soldier who was trepanned, losing in the operation some
poition of the brain. He forgot the numbers five and
seven, and was not able to recollect them for a consid-
erable time. There is anothei more curious fact: "A
man of scholastic attainments lost, after an attack of
acute fever, all knowledge of the letter F."
The psychical memory constitutes the most complex,
the highest and most unstable form of memory. This
is generally called recollection. Ribot calls it localisa-
tion in time. The explanation of localization in time
starts with the law, that imaginary acts are always
accompanied by the belief (at least for the moment) in
the existence of the corresponding reality. This illu-
sion, which exists in the highest degree in hallucination
and dreams, also exists, although in a less degree, in all
states of consciousness, which in reality are purely
mental perceptions.
I shall not attempt to determine, says Ribot,
whether memory is a postulate of the idea of time, or
whether the idea of time is a postulate of memory ; cer-
tainly time implies memory, and memory implies time.
We determine position in time as we determine
position in space by reference to a fixed point, which,
in the case of time, is the present. It must be observed
that the present is a real existence, which has a given
duration. However brief it may be, it is not, as the
language of metaphor would lead us to believe, a flash,
a nothing, an abstraction analogous to a mathematical
point. It has a beginning and an end. But its begin-
ning does not appear to us as an absolute beginning.
It touches upon something with which it forms a con-
tinuity. When we read or hear a sentence, for example,
at the commencement of the fifth word something of
the fourth still remains. Each state of consciousness
is only progressively effaced; it leaves an evanascent
trace, similar to that which, in the physiology of sight,
is called after-sensation; hence the end of the fourth
word impinges upon the beginning of the fifth. It is
evident that the retrogressive transition exists as well
between the fourth word and the third, and the sum of
the duration of many will give the position of any
state whatever with reference to the present or its
distance in time.
Our way of localization is facilitated by the use of
reference points. I understand by a reference point an
event, a state of consciousness, whose position in time
we know — that is to say, its distance from the present
moment, and by which we can measure other distances.
These reference points are states of consciousness which,
through their intensity, are able to survive oblivion,
or, through their complexity, are of a nature to sustain
many relations and to augment the chances of resuscita-
tion. They are not arbitrarily chosen; they obtrude
upon us. Their value is entirely relative. They are
for an hour, a day, a week, a month; then, no longer
used, they are forgotten. They have, as a rule, a
distinct individuality; some of them are common to a
family, a society or a nation. These reference points
are like mile-stones or guide-posts placed along the
route. The intermediate terms disappear from our
recollection because they are useless.
The process of remembering is abbreviated by elimi-
nation. If to reach a distant recollection it were neces-
sary to traverse the entire series of intervening terms,
memory would be impossible because of the length of
time required for the operation. Abercrombie furnishes
a proof: "The late Dr. Leyden was remarkable for
his memory. I am informed, through a gentk men
who was intimately acquainted with him, that he could
repeat correctly a long act of parliament, or any similar
document, after having once read it. When he was, on
some occasion, congratulated by a friend for his remark-
able power in this respect, he replied that, instead of
an advantage, it was often a source of great inconven-
ience. This he explained by saying that, when he
wished to recollect a particular point in anything which
he had read, he could do it only by repeating to himself
THE OPEN COURT.
267
the whole from the commence! lent till he reached the
point which he wished to recall."
We learn from this that one condition of memory is
forgetfulness, and we discover here a striking analogy
between two essential vital processes. To live is to
acquire and lose; life consists of dissolution as well as
assimilation and forgetfulness is dissolution of raeraoiy.
Recollection is not possible if its localization is miss-
ing. Toward the close of his life Linna-us t )ok great
pleasure in perusing his own books, and when reading
would cry out, forgetting that he was the author, "I low
beautiful! What would I not give to have written
that!" Walter Scott, as he grew old, was subject to
similar forgetfulness. One day some one recited in his
presence a poem which pleased him much; he asked
the author's name; it was a canto from his Pirate.
A much more instructive instance is recorded by Mac-
aulay in his essay on Wvcherley, whose memory in his
declining years, he tells us, was " at once preternaturally
strong and preternaturally weak." If anything was
read to him at night, he awoke the next morning with a
mind overflowing with the thoughts and expressions
heard the night before, and he wrote them down with
the best faith in the world, not doubting that they were
his own. That in this instance the mechanism of mem-
ory was dissevered, pathology proves plainly by analysis.
Interpreting the case according to principles already laid
down, we should say : The modification impressed upon
the cerebral cells was persistent; the dynamical associa-
tions of the nervous elements were stable; the state of
consciousness connected with each was evolved ; these
states of consciousness were re-associated and constituted
a series of ideas and phrases. Then the mental opera-
tion was suddenly arrested. The series aroused no sec-
ondary state; they remained isolated and were not con-
nected with the present, so that they could not be located
in time. They remained in the condition of illusions;
they seemed to be new because no concomitant state
impressed upon them the imprint of the past.
Cells have the power of self-nourishment and are
endowed, at least during a portion of life, with the
faculty of reproduction. Physiologists are agreed that
this reproduction is only one form of nutrition; the basis
of memory is, therefore, nutrition; that is to say, the
vital process par excellence.
ALL LAWS IN HARMONY.
BY MRS. R. F. BAXTER.
Are there any laws governing this universe or its in-
habitants that conflict with each other?
There are those which keep the stars and the comets
in their orbits, and produce the inflowing and outflowing
of the tides; others that cause the water from ocean,
lake and river to rise, and fall again in rain and vapor.
Each organism and each function has its laws by which
its actions are determined. Whether disobeyed know-
ingly or ignorantly the penalty is the same. Nature is
inexorable and always declares, I will have my pay.
And there are the laws of heredity ; of the adaptation of
certain kinds of food to the wants of the physical sys-
tem to sustain its vitality ; another that certain kinds of
vegetable and animal productions are poisonous. To
these we may add mental, moral and spiritual laws,
which obeyed will insure development in every direc-
tion; if neglected or violated, will produce the opposite
effect.
We must necessarily believe that all these laws and
countless others, have the same basis and conduce to the
highest good. But there is a rapidly increasing class
who maintain that all laws governing the health and the
disease of the body can be ignored entirely, and that
these disorders of the physical system, caused by the
violation of laws relating to them, do not exist ; that if one
only think they do not, he will be free from pain and
the consequences of breaking the edicts of his physical
nature.
Carry this belief to its extent, and it follows of
course, if true, that if you put your hand into the file it
will not be burned, if you eat poison you will not suffer
therefrom. Imagination, it is true, has a great effect.
Every scientific person will admit this; but not that it
will work miracles, will not set a broken bone or create
a new heart or lungs. By its power in accordance with
its own laws it will assist nature in the work of eradi-
cating disease, particularly that of the nervous system.
There is a magnetic power in the presence of a strong
■will or cheerful physician which will divert the mind of
a sick person from dwelling constantly on his condition.
Many doctors and nurses understanding this law, always
have a mirthful story to tell their patients, and fre-
quently keep a stock on hand for this purpose. I have
often heard women say of such professors of the art of
healing, " The sight of him, with his firm, strong step,
and smiling face, makes me feel better immediately."
These men or women do not say to an invalid,
" Nothing ails you, you are not sick, you only think you
are." The salutary effect of their presence is in accor-
dance with a well known law. There is a restoring in-
fluence emanating from the aura of a good, strong,
healthy person — a magnetic current which one weaker
physically and mentally receives.
But suppose a person attacked with some zymotic or
filth disease, like typhoid fever, or diptheria, should call
in medical aid and it should be said to him, "Nothing is
the matter with you, you only imagine you are sick,"
what would be the result? The intelligent physician,
while relying often upon other aids beside medicine in
many cases, in such an instance while administering
remedies which his experience has found efficacious, and
insisting on proper diet, pure air and entire separation
iGS
THE OR EN COURT.
from others, immediately proceeds to investigate the
premises and to search for the origin of the malady,
which is often found in defective drainage, plumbing or
other conditions favorable to the production of this form
of disease.
That there are sometimes cures apparently affected
by " Christian Scientists," as they term themselves, I do
not deny. We hear of them, but not of the many fail-
ures. If there are real cures they must be in accordance
with laws these professors do not understand. All the
capabilities of humanity are not yet discovered. When
that time comes we may be assured that there will be
no conflict between any laws created by unerring wis-
dom. In the future when the progress of the knowl-
edge of sanitary measures and other right conditions of
living shall have become universal, a time may arrive
when such observance of these laws will have entirely
obliterated epidemics, and all contagious diseases from
the earth, as is confidently pit dieted bj our most eminent
scientists.
In the meantime we ought to have our feet firmly
planted on the truths of science already discovered, and
wait patiently for those yet to be made known, for every
step forward is one upward, and we may look to the
future assured that all laws are divine and that, as ex-
pressed by that true poet of nature, Walt Whitman:
" The indirect is as much as the direct. The spirit re-
ceives from the body as much as it gives to the body, if
not more." "There is but one form, one spirit in the
universe, but its different manifestations or channels of
operating are countless."
In this age when immense fortunes are acquired by
the manufacture of patent medicines that pretend to
cure every ill which "flesh is heir to;" when quackery
with unblushing effrontery advertises its nostrums in every
daily paper; when medical colleges, so-styled, are send-
ing out their hundreds of graduates armed with their
diplomas, to deceive the ignorant and credulous and to
encourage impurity and vice, it is incumbent on all in-
terested in the elevation of humanity to investigate
every theory and method which claims to cure disease
by simply ignoring its existence, and the conditions
which have caused and serve to perpetuate it.
The chain of cause and effect runs through all the
phenomena of nature, visible or invisible, from the stars
too far distant to be detected by any telescope yet in-
vented, down to organisms too minute to be seen by the
most powerful microscope. To investigate the operations
of this universal law and place ourselves in harmonious
relations with it, is the one and only way to insure the
highest health and success of which humanity is capa-
ble. Upon it depends the destiny of nations as well as
of individuals. Until this truth is recognized and all
reforms for the renovation of the world based upon it,
entirely fruitless will be the attempts, although they
may be honestly and sincerely made, to produce the de-
sired result. Too late it will be discovered that their
fancied panaceas are founded, not on the immovable rock
of knowledge of the laws of harmony to whose music
every movement in the universe keeps time, but on the
sifting sands of visionary sentimentalism or vague spec-
ulation.
The majority of people when they name I he so-
called properties of matter never doubt that they are
describing an externa! substance as it ex;sts per se, in-
stead of the different ways in which they are affected by
a reality of whose ultimate nature they know nothing.
Tell them that weight, resistance, extension, etc., describe
the ejects on us of an external reality rather than the
reality itself, and they are utterly unable to comprehend
what you mean. It is none the less true that mind and
matter form a synthesis. The hardness and softness( re-
sistance ), for example, which we ascribed to matter are
sensations. Every perception, every sensation, implies a
sensitive organism and an external reality acting upon it.
This is evidently what Aristotle meant when he de-
scribed sensation as the "common act of the feeling and
the felt." Without the living organism what are sound,
color, fragrance, hardness, softness, light, and darkness,
or any of the so-called secondary, not to speak here of
the so-called primary qualities of matter. Can there be
sound without an ear to collect and transmit the aerial
vibrations to the acoustic nerve, where (to use a ma-
terialistic terminology) they can be transformed by some
mysterious process into sensation ? Without an eye
there can be no luminous effect. There must be both
vibrations of the air and an acoustic nerve to have
sound, undulations of ether and retinal sensibility to
have light, emanations of particles and an olfactory
nerve to have fragrance, and external objects and ner-
vous sensibility to have hardness or softness. Vibra-
tions of the air, undulations of ether, emanation of par-
ticles and external objects may all exist in the absence of
an organism; but what are sound and luminousness, fra-
grance and hardness, but sensations? And of the exter-
nal factors mentioned what do we know, except in con-
nection with the subjective factors? By psychological
analysis our conceptions of matter are reducible to sen-
sation, " the common act of the feeling and the felt,"
and this is what Fenelon meant when he said of matter,
"It is aye ne sais quoi which melts within my hand as
soon as I press it."
Says the Indianapolis Iron Clad Age:
Science is a fabric evolved from a series of ascertained facts,
which facts may be logically used as mirrors to reflect the images of
inferential facts whose reality is beyond the ken of our senses. But
theology can have no scientific basis, for its retrospect is a rayless
wilderness where all is hushed save the faint echoes of dreams and
fables and its perspective an imaginary region where faith is the
only occupant, and where logical fact labors in vain for a foothold.
THE OPEN COURT.
269
The Open Court.
A Fortnightly Journal.
Published every other Thursday at 169 to 175 La Salle Street ( Nixon
Building), corner Monroe Street, by
THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY
B. F. UNDERWOOD,
Editor and Manager.
SARA A. UNDERWOOD,
Associate Editor.
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THURSDAY, JUNE 23, 1SS7.
THE MENTAL HEALING CRAZE.
Boston papers state that the "mental healing" craze
which has prevailed in that city the past two or three
years under the name of "mind cure," "faith cure,"
"Christian science," "metaphysical healing," etc., has run
its course there. It seems to have reached Chicago
later, and judging from what we have seen and heard,
the craze is about at its height in this city.
The fact of the influence of the mind over bodily
conditions is unquestionable, and the adherents of these
new (or old) methods of treating desease have consider-
able latitude in which to indulge in general statements
on this subject. Every intelligent person knows that
there is an intimate relationship between mental and
physical conditions, that a mental shock may produce
physical paralysis and that contusion of the brain may
cause unconsciousness or insanity.
This undeniable fact of the influence of mental con-
ditions of the organism over those conditions distin-
guished as physical, serves as the basis of the dozen or
more metaphysical and theological theories of the men-
tal healers, some of which are wild and crude and belong
to primitive rather than to modern thought, and none
of which admit of scientific verification. In connection
with each of them, are put forth claims as to extraordi-
nary cures which have been or may be affected by the
method of that particular " school" or system. So contra-
dictory, and so superficial and undigested are the specula-
tions advanced by the teachers of mental healing, that they
at once give rise to the presumption that between them
and the essential principle observed in producing the
practical results, there is only an assumed and imaginary
connection.
But what are the results. If the practitioners of
these different schools of mental healing are to be be-
lieved, there are few if any diseases which they are not
by their methods able to overcome; and they can all cite
the testimony of persons who have been treated by them
in support of all the claims they make. But anybodv
who has ever taken the pains to investigate these claims as
the writer has, knows that when the exact truth is
learned, the wonderful cures are at once divested of all
that made them appear miraculous.
One of these practitioners in Boston, one whose
rooms were thronged with patients, represented that he
had by his method been able to effect cures in several
cases of cancer, cataract, etc. A committee was ap-
pointed by the society before which his statements were
made, to investigate a few of his cases. The com-
mittee took from this "healer" the names and addresses
of half a dozen persons whom he claimed to have
treated successfully for these diseases, and by careful ex-
amination of the facts, found that among them all there
was not one case of cancer, and that his representations
generally were false. Some women and even men had
been wholly or partly relieved of nervous affections;
and this fact, in no way remarkable, was sufficient to
satisfy hundreds of people of the truth of his preten-
sions and of the truth, too, of the ridiculous notions
which he presented as science, in explanation of his
method of practice, and in all seriousness, as a final solu-
tion of those problems with which other thinkers, because
lacking "the understanding of God," had grappled in
vain.
Yet after making allowance for exaggeration and
misrepresentation, willful or unintentional, there remains
a residuum of truth sufficient to indicate that, underlying
all the methods which give prominence to the power of
the mind in the alleviation and cure of disease, is an
important principle, a better understanding of which
may yet lead to most beneficent results. '
The various systems cf mental healing have a mod-
icum of truth for a basis, and in spite of the credulity,
superstition and charlatanry which have marked the
craze, it may do something to make the people see what
270
THE OPEN COURT.
all physicians know, that much which passes under the
name of disease can be removed by giving an impres-
sion or an impulse to the mind, and that all disease is a
disordered condition of the organism, and not a thing to
be expelled from the body by a drug as vermin are
driven from a house by a ferret.
Whether a patient kneels at the tomb of a saint or
sits with a "Christian scientist" or takes "bread pills"
from a regular physician, the mind is impressed with an
idea, has more or less faith in the means employed, and
the mental condition is an important factor in the results
produced. There is no doubt that to poisonous drugs
has been attributed a curative value which they do not
possess, and that there is need of bringing to bear
upon a certain class of diseases, real or imaginary, mental
influences and relying less in such cases on the efficacy
of pills and powders.
VACATION TIME.
Summer vacations for the man of business, the brain-
worker, the professional man — and woman — and even for
those mechanics and other workers who can possibly
afford it, have become fashionable only within the last
decade. Previously only people of wealth and leisure
and invalids whose leisure was enforced, thought it in-
cumbent upon them to change location and scene during
the debilitating hot months. But the advance in hygie-
nic study has shown, or has seemed to show, that the
recuperation of energy by a few weeks of entire rest
from the pursuits which engross the greater part of one's
time, is really a paying investment to those even whose
necessities seem to demand the whole time for their busi-
ness. So it has become the fashion for workers every-
where, as well as for those who have no other business
than to lead or follow the fashicns, to take a vacation
some time during the summer. In these days of statis-
tics it would be interesting if true statistics of the real
saving made by these rests could be got at, as well as
those of the loss entailed by physicians' bills and increase
of domestic unhappiness through over taxed nerves by
the stay-at-homes. Then we could reckon more accu-
rately in our social statics as to who are most in need of
these relaxations, and encourage such to take vacations
in the interest of society's general well-being.
As men and women grow elderly, habit is apt to
make the life grooves in which they run, hard to get out
of even temporarily, and especially if their time has a
business or money value; and they grow indisposed to
make even necessary temporary changes, but it would
be better for themselves and others could they be per-
suaded to do so.
During the first few days of such enforced vacation
the neglected business may haunt their waking hours,
but presently they will begin almost insensibly to take
in the soothing loveliness of nature, to which busy peo-
ple are apt to grow blind. Like the man in Bunyan's'
Pilgrinfs Progress, who once finding a jewel in a
dung-heap, kept busy ever after looking for others
which he never found, and for years never raised his
eyes from his eager search until it became impossible
for him to do so, so we in our intentness on pursuits
outside of the mere loveliness of nature grow deaf to all
the seductive voices with which she woos us, and
blind to the beauty with which she is so richly adorned.
We have not time to listen to the rhythmic music of
the wind-swept trees, or to note the fairy shadow-
dance of the sun-touched foliage. We see no longer
the enchanted forest with its ogres, or the beautiful air
castles which the cloud-shapes pictured to us in child-
hood; with whatsoever deep message the sea may be
charged, its "wild waves are saying" not' ing to us in
our sordid absorption. If we sometimes glance at the
clouds it is but hastily to see whether they are charged
with rain which may interfere with or further our plans,
and in the cities the signal service flag serves our pur-
poses as well. The song of the birds no longer thrills
our hearts with sympathetic hope or gladness, and if
we hear them at all, it is to anathemize their noisiness.
We grow hard, rigid or torpid in our devotion to our
chosen work, and it is from this atrophied state that vaca-
tion time should rescue us.
Then to those who take these vacation times for
use and recuperation, and do not make of them a weari-
ness of the flesh as do those
"Fashion pining sons and daughters
That seek the crowd they seem to fly,"
the days or weeks devoted to renewal of acquaintance
with nature and consequent renewal of youth will be
the most profitable of the year whether they seek the
needed change in forest solitudes, on the mountain
heights, by the rock-bound breezy coast, near placid
lake or trouting stream, in " the tent on the beach,"
yachting on "the deep blue sea" itself, or in safer
boating on inshore bays where " voices keep tune" to
the rhythmic dip and paddle of the oars.
The poets and writers who best describe and picture
these outings will be good company to take along. One
can read with more appreciation Browning's La Saisiaz
when he has himself
"Dared and done! the climbing both of us were bound to do. ■
Petty feat, and vet prodigious: Every side my glance was bent
O'er the grandeur and the beauty lavished through the whole
ascent
Ledge by ledge broke out new marvels, now minute and now im-
mense:
Earth's most exquisite disclosure, heaven's own God in evi-
dence!"
Auerbach's On the Heights, too, can be read with
new pleasure. By the sea-side one can exclaim with
Campbell,
THE OPEN COURT.
271
"Hail to thv face and odors glorious sea!
'Twere thanklessness in me to bless thee not
Great beauteous Being! in whose breath and smile
Mv heart beats calmer and my very mind
Inhales salubrious thoughts."
Sidney Lanier in his Hymns of the Marshes pays
sweet tribute to the " green colonnades, of the dim sweet
woods, of the dear dark woods," which he calls
" Beautiful glooms, soft dusk in the noonday fire —
Wildwood privacies, closets of lone desire,
Chamber from chamber parted with wavering arras of leaves, —
Cells for the passionate pleasure of prayer to the soul that grieves."
In the hot summer days now upon us who does not
with Alexander Smith, "pant for woodlands dim," and
long
"To lose the sense of whirling streets 'mong breezy crests of
hills,
Skies of larks and hazy landscapes with fine threads of silver
rills;"
or wish with Whittier,
" To feel, from burdening cares and ills
The strong uplifting of the hills."
and at last decide with Bryant to
" Away! I will not be to-day,
The only slave of toil and care.
Away from desk and dust! Away!
I'll be as idle as the air.
" Beneath the open sky abroad
Among the plants and breathing things
The sinless, peaceful works of God,
I'll share the calm the season brings."
But there are toiling over-worked thousands yet to
whom vacation time is only a meaningless phrase or
exasperating suggestion, and others to whom it means
only added labor. Every year thoughtful philanthropy
is widening the area of its blessed privileges, and may
not the release from their regular routine of thought
which it brings to earnest men and women, give them
the needed time in which to plan for others more needful
even than themselves of rest — the poor, the sick and the
miserable — some methods of securing it for such!
s. A. u.
COMPETITION A CONDITION OF PROGRESS.
With advancing civilization competition changes its
forms, its methods, but never disappears. Reformers
who would eliminate it from the active life of man, dis-
regard the fact that under its influence man has always
acted, and that it has been and is now as essential to
progress as are association and co-operation. Competi-
tion between nations even now is, to a considerable
extent, competition in military strength, in ability to arm
and equip large armies for the destruction of life and
property. As the sympathies of men broaden and the
interests of nations become more inter-dependent, war
must cease, when the vast energies which war now
absorbs, will be given to the pursuits of peace. In all
the peaceable arts and industries, upon which a non-
military community must depend for rank and influence,
competition, under a different form of course, is just as
necessary to success as it is in a community which relies
upon its preparation and genius for war. And compe-
tition in the industrial world, as in the lower forms of
the struggle of life means the success of some and the
failure of others, prosperity here, hardship and suffering
there, injury to one class or community by reason of cir-
cumstances which prove advantageous to others. Thus
Mr. John Fretwell writes to Unity, "that since the heavi-
est blow inflicted upon Hungarian prosperity in the last
few years has come from the competition of your western
prairies with the plains of Hungary, formerly the granary
of western Europe, I venture to ask you to draw the at-
tention of American Unitarians also to this terrible mis-
fortune that has befallen our poor brethren in Hungary."
The fertility of our western prairies, and the enter
prise of our western farmers and of our grain mt rchants
have contributed to the prosperity of this country ; but
it seems that they have brought "terrible misfortunes"
upon Hungarians — a fact not pleasant to contemplate.
Perhaps the Hungarian farmers who are suffering from
inability to compete successfully with our western farm-
ers, will be forced into raising other products or be
compelled to turn their attention to other industries, in
which they may in time become so prosperous as to be
the cause of a misfortune elsewhere as great as that
which has befallen them. It is this very necessity of
putting forth new energies, of forming new plans, and
trying new experiments that spurs men onward, forces
them out of old ruts, and urges them to make the
changes and the adjustments without which progress is
impossi le. The most that philanthropy can do is to
secure as far as possible equality of opportunity for all,
and to afford to the incapable and the weak such encour-
agement and direction and help as will make them fit
to survive.
Professor Egbert C. Smyth, of the Andover Theo-
logical Seminary, charged with denial of the plenary
inspiration of the Bible and with teaching the doctrine
of "probation after death," contrary to the creed and
purpose of the institution, has been pronounced guilty
by the Board of Visitors. But the Board of Trustees
are in sympathy with Prof. Smyth, and he cannot be de-
posed except by a decision of the Supreme Court of the
State, to which appeal will probably be, if it has not
already been made.
# * *
In an article entitled " the American State and the
American Man " in the current issue of the Contempo-
rary Review, Dr. Albert Shaw dwells upon State inter-
ference in personal affairs which he declares prevails
to a far greater extent than the majority of intelligent
Americans imagine. He admits that laissez-faire
2 7 2
THE OPEN COU RT,
doctrines are taught in the schools and colleges, but
places over against that the statement that the American
does not act in accordance with them, that in fact he
keeps " his economics and his practical politics as sepa-
rate as some men do their religion and their business,
and he is just as naively unconscious of it." He offers
the legislation of the Minnesota legislature during the
sixty-day session of 1SS5 as evidence in support of his
statement, and cites numerous laws that may be
classed as instances of State interference. He empha-
sizes the fact that these laws were passed by men who
profess laissez-faire principles, no connection existing
between their political philosophy and their votes.
He advocates unlimited State interference as a cure
for this anomaly, and says : " Let it be understood that
it is within the legitimate province of the State to do
anything and everything," and he believes that the result
would be scientific, and consequently better legislation.
* * *
In the lately published Life of Longfellow, by
his brother Rev. Samuel Longfellow, extracts are given
from his journal which afford the uninitiated an idea of
some of the amusing as well as annoying penalties of
fame, of which the following is cited as a sample:
Two women in black called to-day. One of them said she
was a descendant of the English philosopher, John Locke, and
that she was going to establish a society for the suppression of
crueltv to letter-carriers. A lady in Ohio sends me one hundred
blank cards, with the request that I will write my name on each,
as she wishes to distribute them among her guests at a party she
is to give on my birthday.
A gentleman writes me for "your autograph in your own
handwriting."
Am receiving from ten to twenty letters daily, with all kinds
of questions and requests.
Letters, letters, letters. Some I answer, but many and most
I cannot.
Think of the sublime impertinence of requesting a
busy man to write his signature one hundred times for a
stranger's pleasure. One naturally wonders if she would
not have charged to his account any that might be
spoiled in writing!
The Seybert Spiritual Commission of Philadelphia,
have in a volume of 150 pages, about to be issued by the
Lippincott Company, made a report of their three
years' investigation of mediumship. Slade, Mrs. Mar-
garetta Fox Kane, Mrs. Best, Mrs. Maud Lord, Mans-
field and several other mediums were tested, all of whom
the report says used fraud, while none of them per-
formed any extraordinary feats. The commission says
that " without imputing untrustworthiness to the testi-
mony of others, we can only vouch for facts we have
ourselves observed."
* # *
Hon. Geo. S. Hale in a recent address to a Unitarian
Association mentioned that when Victoria was born no
person could hold any office of trust or honor in the
Kingdom of Great Britain without participating in the
sacrament according to the usages of the English
Church, and that when James Martineau was born it
was a "crime to express the sentiments which we com-
memorate and proclaim." These facts suggested to
Mr. Hale, " the space over which society has passed and
how it pitches its moving tents each night, each day,
each year, each century, nearer to the Mecca of a happy
union of all religions."
The Transylvanian Saxons have many peculiar cus-
toms, some of which are revealed in an article reprinted
from Blackwoods l\Lagazine in the Popular Science
Monthly for June. We note one of these customs in
the following, of which the Saxon mother finds conso-
lation for whatever natural deformity her children may
be afflicted with: Whenever a child grows up clumsy,
with a crooked nose, a large head, or with any disability
of mind or body it is claimed that an evil spirit has stolen
the original child from the cradle and substituted an
elf; once satisfied of this, very cruel remedies are some-
times used in order to force the evil spirit to restore the
child, for instance the unfortunate creature suspected of
being an elf is placed astride of a hedge and beaten with
a thorn branch until it is quite bloody, when it is sup-
posed that the evil spirit has brought back the child
again.
* * *
The Victorian era has been one of great progress in
science, in the arts of industrialism and in political, so-
cial and religions reform. In these movements the
queen has had but little active participation, but her
character as a wife and a mother, her good influence on
the side of marriage and home, and her puie tastes and
sympathies which have raised her life far above the
standard of her ancestors, have secured her the respect
of millions who know that as a sovereign she is but lit-
tle more than a political figure-head. The jubilee ob-
servances in England as well as in this and other coun-
tries, are in the nature of a personal tribute to a woman
who is honored for her simple virtues, and for the good
influence which she, in her high position, thereby exerts
on all classes, rather than for any remarkable gifts she
possesses, or great achievements on her part.
Says the Chicago Times in vein of irony:
There should be a specific tax on each and every minister
imported from a foreign country, and another one on their ap-
praised value. If the people living on Back Bay, Broadway, or
Prairie avenue want to indulge in the luxury of an imported min-
ister, they should be made to pay roundly for it. The money
raised in this way could be used in helping to support poor
churches in the country that are not above hearing the gospel
preached by ministers produced on our soil. Of course we cannot
compete in the production of ministers with a country possess-
ing as many advantages as England has. Manufacturing min-
isters in this country is an infant industry that deserves to be
protected and fostered by the general government.
THE OPEN COURT.
273
We find the following in the Boston Transcript:
Two small children, one of them four and the other three
years old, were taken to see the stuffed animals that Barnum
has given to Tufts College — Stuffed College these children now
call it, quite naturally — and saw the elephants and giraffes and
other beautiful animals, and had an idea given them of the differ-
ence between these figures and the real creatures. On the Sun-
day after this visit the children were favored with a little lecture
on the future life and the spiritual body, and a very intelligent
attempt was made to convey to them an understanding of the
idea.
" Yes, I know how it is," said the elder of the two, eagerly ;
" they iust take us after we're dead, and take our skins off, and
stuff'em with sawdust 'n' things, 'n' then we're spirits! "
This is a conception of the future existence which is recom-
mended to the Psychical Society as possibly containing the germ
of a great discovery.
Rukmabia, the Hindu lady from whose pen there
have proceeded a series of striking letters signed
" By a Hindu Lady," in which the evils of the Hindu
marriage system have been most clearly shown, has
recently been condemned by the Bombay High Court
to take up her residence with a husband to whom she
was betrothed at the age of eleven. Her long con-
tinued resistance has raised the question whether
British law shall not be brought to bear upon the
Hindu marriage custom with the purpose of reform-
ing it.
* * *
The length of Dr. Montgomery's essay, Part III,
compels us to divide it; but there will be no delay in
publishing Professor Cope's reply, which is to begin in
the next issue of The Open Court, in which Dr.
Montgomery's paper will be concluded.
# * *
In the death of Mark Hopkins the country has lost
one of its most eminent educators and one of its most
useful and honored men. He was f >r nearly half a
century president of William's College.
SOCRATES.
BY W. F. BARNARD.
Great sage, philosopher, high-minded man,
Lover of truth, scorning to lie and live;
No praise too great for thee can man ere give,
No nobler life hath been since life began.
We yield the highest honor to thy name
For thy great duty done. What glory now
Is 'round about thee. Ne'er upon thy brow
There lay a laurel wreath to crown thy fame.
Nay, thou had'st never need of this, there pleads
Thy high unselfishness, thy hate of fears,
Thy teaching of the higher human needs,
Thy faithfulness through all thy stormy years,
And thy triumphant death; these noblest deeds
Are everlasting voices in our ears.
"I DO NOT KNOW."
BY SARA A. UNDERWOOD.
You sorrow, friend, that your faith is not mine;
You vainly grieve because when Death shall call
I own I know not where I go, or if at all
I go, or stay, cease being, or enter some new life divine.
/grieve but for your grieving! Once in youth
Your faith was mine; and when Death came too near
I faced him terror-stricken : believing fear,
Possessed my soul when I thought creed was truth.
Some truth since then I've learned, and by its test
Have found the creeds to totter, crumble, fail,
Their seeming strength built on foundations frail,
On crude imaginings, man's hope and fear at best.
Once, in my ignorance, I glibly prated
Of devils, pains, and penalties; of God and bliss,
Reward and punishment. But now I know but this: —
/ do not know to what humanity is fated
Save that which men name death — the sure estate
Which comes to all alike — the sphinx-like unrevealer
Of Life's enigma, — the dumb tantalizing sealer
Of the unanswered questions put by man to Fate.
But we know not — though much we long to know —
What Death may be: beginning, mean, or end,
Or whether it comes as teacher, foe, or friend —
Our eager questioning wins not "Aye" or "No."
To all alike it comes; the great, the wise, the good,
The sinful, sad, the strong, the weak, the gay,
The saint, the hypocrite, the prophet, each one day
Receives the summons — no matter in what mood.
Yet death I fear not — souls as weak and blind
As mine its dark ordeal have passed serene, —
Why should I falter at some change of scene,
Which I but share with all my human kind?
But should immortal life, my friend, be ours,
I shall be glad as you — and try to scale
With you its further heights, if strivings then avail —
With joy accepting all my new-born powers.
Mayhap then, by some alchemy here unknown,
Our baser natures may toward their likings stray
And hateful qualities drop from us quite away,
While what is best within us seeks its own.
And if — as may be — for I do not, cannot, know,
To unsuffking life, death brings sure end
I need not murmur — nor need you, my friend,
Whose creed, believed, means far less joy than woe.
I say " I do not know " — most surely do not,
Yet have I caught faint gleams of what seemed light —
In hours, in ways, too sacred here to cite,
Like gleaming from a distant star we view not.
274
THE OPEN COURT.
COPE'S THEOLOGY OF EVOLUTION.
BY DR. EDMl'ND MONTGOMERY.
Part III.
Our understanding revolts against the supposition
that organization with all its marvellous adaptations can
be due to a mere fortunate confluence of chance occur-
rences. It is, indeed, quite inconceivable that the fortui-
tous arising of variations wholly irrelated to the pro-
pensities and needs of life, should by the negative pro-
cess of successive weeding, ever be competent to con-
struct out of shapeless material those most specific or-
gans with which we find ourselves endowed; and still
more inconceivable that organs thus formed should dis-
play those wondrously purposive activities which we
call their functions. Surely, we are not shaped from
without merely to fit conditions of the medium. It
seems far more credible that we are shaped from within*
that conditions of the medium may fit us. Evidently
there is here some definitely formative, nay, some posi-
tively creative power at work in the living substance.
Where can it come from? Of what nature can it be?
These are the decisive questions.
Now, if you are a mechanical biologist, believing
fully with Professor DuBois-Reymond and our present
physical science in the doctrine of the Conservation of
Energy, you have here no particular problem at all be-
fore you. For, from this point of view, the first cast of
the dice, the first launching of the world-forming atoms,
had already decided, unchangeably — with absolute fatal-
ity— all that has followed since, or will ever follow here-
after. The arising and preserving of such and such
variations is, then, an occurrence as rigorously predeter-
mined as anything else in nature — everything that ever
happens happening of necessity, through undeviating
predisposition, exactly as it does. There is, indeed, no
escape whatever from this conclusion, unless the me-
chanical conception itself is fallacious. Every biolo-
gist who introduces into this unbending mechanical
nexus any kind of deviating or directing influence ought
clearly to know that he is opposing the doctrine of the
Conservation of Energy; wittingly or unwittingly he
is professing himself an unbeliever in this supreme gen-
eralization of modern science. To consistent physicists
as to consistent theists, the first kinetic cast of the world-
material must be the all-important, all-involving event
in creation. It is strange that theistic predestinarians
have not seized more eagerly upon this argument. They
should welcome the mechanical materialists as their
most potent auxiliaries. There is, in truth, no better
theistic stronghold of the natural sort anywhere to be
found. Only, then, we mechanically constructed pup-
pets would be automata sure enough; and in spite of
theology and logic, human self-humiliation — so ready to
indulge its mood up to a certain point — refuses to de-
grade itself that far.
The perplexity regarding the evolutionary drift of
the physical nexus is nothing new. Since Democritus
it has been the standing difficulty of the mechanical
conception to derive complexity of form and aim-
directed activity from material particles and their mo-
tion. Democritus, in order to account for the deviation
of atoms from the straight path during their primordial
fall through space, fancied that larger a'oms had over-
taken smaller ones, which — thereby diverted from their
course — came to form more and more intricately en-
tangled arrangements. Epicurus, however, was aware
that in empty space material particles, whether large or
small, must fall with equal velocity. He assumed with-
out explanation, that a spontaneous deviation from the
straight path had gradually given rise to complexity of
form and motion. His disciple Lucretius, very much
in the manner of Professor Cope, sought to furnish an
explanation for this deviation by violently breaking
through the physical order on the strength of our ex-
perience of voluntary movements. Modern cosmogony
with the aid of the law of gravitation — a law itself
mechanically unexplained — got over one great difficulty
involved in the ancient view, namely the inevitable fall-
ing of all atoms to the bottom of the world. And it
acquired, moreover, a principle by which material parti-
cles are made to form aggregates on their way to com-
mon centers, deviating at the same time from the
straight path through collisions.
To account for the second great fact, that of teleo-
logical disposition in nature, the mechanical views of
antiquity took their cue from Empedocles; conceiving
that in endless time all possible material configurations
must necessarily occur, and that those most advanta-
geously constituted would naturally tend to maintain
themselves. This may be called the Darwinism of the
ancient philosophy.
Historical connection with these ancient views has
been made here because our mechanical world-concep-
tion was formed in direct continuity with them. Soon
after Gassendi had revived the Atomism of Epicurus, it
was adopted in its main features by Descartes, Boyle
and Newton, and has been used ever since with signal
success — leaving unsolved, however, the problems of
material integration and teleological direction.
It is the scientific installation of matter and motion,
not only as the building material, but also as the build-
ing efficiency of our world, that has thrown into promi-
nence the psycho-physical dilemma, which we have
called the central problem of modern philosophy, or
K the puzzle of puzzles." Now, if we ever desire to ex-
tricate our understanding from the philosophical and
scientific deadlock, produced by the artificial opposition
of a material substance to a mental substance, each of
which has to follow its own course without possible
interaction ; if we desire to attain a unitary view of
THE OPEN COURT.
275
nature we have, first of all, to be strictly consistent, not
allowing any makeshift compromise to establish spurious
openings for an apparent blending of the two postu-
lated spheres of reality.
The principle of the Conservation of Energy — as
already stated — presupposes, without escape, that from
the very beginning the original material particles were
started with definite velocities in definite directions.
And this primordial disposition involved, then and there,
with absolute necessity the entire ensuing world-evolu-
tion in all its minutest details. No philosophical scien-
tist who uses this leading principle of modern physics,
not merely as a working hypothesis in the investigation
of special problems, but as a torch to illuminate our
world-conception, can deny the validity of this its final
implication. And who can fail to see that this view is
really the special creation-hypothesis brought to a focus,
concentrating into one sole omnipotent act of premedi-
tated design the rigorously fore-ordained production of
all that was ever to take place in the physical universe?
In a mechanical scheme of this kind mental states
can come in only as passive accompaniments, and con-
scious realization can only witness as an unrelated out-
sider the physical spectacle, being utterly impotent to
affect its course in the least degree. We are forced by
such a doctrine to conceive our mental nature as having
an origin, a historv and a destiny totally independent of
the physical world. This, however, is altogether con-
trary to experience; and it is, moreover, an evident fact
that we actually realize whatever is perceptible of the
physical world in our own individual consciousness.
Our perception of it is undeniably a mental occurrence
within our own being. Now, the impossibility of con-
ceiving mind as consciously reproducing, indeed as iden-
tically duplicating — within its own sphere of existence
by means of its own affections — the physical universe,
to which, according to the mechanical view, it is wholly
unrelated and incommensurable; — this impossibility of
imagining the universe realized in consciousness as in
any way connected with the universe assumed in physi-
cal science, has led many philosophers to trust exclu-
sively their immediate consciousness and deny altogether
the existence of the physical universe. The untena-
bility of this very prevalent idealistic escape from the
psycho-physical dilemma the present writer has en-
deavored to expose on various occasions, and has pointed
out what seemed to him the only possible solution of
the puzzle.
But the principle of the Conservation of Energy is
still governing physical science, and biologists are as per-
plexed as ever how to derive organic teleology in accor-
dance with it.
The ways and means by which organic forms are
naturally built up have remained all the more obscure
on account of our being able to study exhaustively by
direct observation only re-productive organization, while
productive organization, which has taken ages to get
accomplished, is left a matter of inference chiefly. On-
togenetic or individual evolution may rapidly epitomize
phylogenetic or race evolution; yet, most assuredly the
reproductive germ, which contains potentially in its own
intrinsic constitution, all phvlogenetic results, cannot pos-
sibly undergo a process of development which can be
at all causatively compared with that of a primitive pro-
toplasmic form, competent at first to reproduce merely
its own duplicate, and which only increment upon incre
ment, through ceaseless interaction with the medium,
during countless generations, has at last come to be the
complex being we now find. Productive evolution, dif-
fering thus radically from re-productive evolution, de-
mands a radically different explanation^ This is not suf-
ficiently born in mind. Evolutional science has to put
two totally distinct questions : How are developmental
traits individually acquired? And how are they then
generically transmitted?
Since the discovery of reproductive germs in all or-
ganic propagation, it has become plain to everybody
that through these minute material vehicles, organiza-
tion, with all its peculiarities, is somehow transmitted
from parents to their offspring. A reproductive germ
is a very tiny and inconspicuous sort of a thing, but the
downright fact is, that without it, we and the rest of
the organic world would be non-existent; with it we
become everything we are. Metaphysically unbiased
scientists could not fail to perceive that mental endow-
ments form likewise part of this organic heritage.
Now, if it is difficult to make out exactly how parental
organization can be reproduced in all its complexity
from a uniform and microscopic germ, it is still more
difficult to understand how specific mental faculties are
reproduced along with the specific material structures.
In this connection the phenomena of instinct, which
constitute a kind of link between reproduction of men-
tal and reproduction of purely organic traits, became a
subject of particular interest. Instincts, at all events,
appear to be closely connected with organization. In-
deed, Lamarck already regarded them as acquired men-
tal habitudes, which had become organically fixed. He
says: "This inclination on the part of animals to per-
sist in their habits, and to renew the actions subservient
thereto when once acquired, is propagated thenceforth
in all individuals through reproduction or generation,
by which the organization and disposition of the parts
are conserved in the acquired state, so that the same in-
clination exists already in the new individuals, even be-
fore they have exercised it." (Phil. Zoillogique, 1S09,
p. 325.) Blainville (1832) calls instincts "fixed reason,"
and reason "mobile instinct." Comte (1S38) makes use
of the same considerations as Lamarck to account for
the transmission of any kind of acquired aptitude ("«»e
276
THE OPEN COURT.
pratique quelconque") in man or beast. (Cours de Phil.
Pos., Vol. Ill, p. 787.) And seventeen years later we
find Mr. Herbert Spencer, in his Principles of Psy-
chology, expressing the same opinion: "Instinct may
be regarded as a kind of organized memory." (p. 555-)
" Conscious memory passes into unconscious or organic
memory." (p. 563.)
The materialistic philosophy of the eighteenth cen-
tury had made this kind of interpretation current among
physiologists. Vital activities of every description,
mental or non-mental, were held to be functions of the
organism. Acquired habits were said to have become
organized by means of definite modifications in the
structure of the functioning organ, conscious memory
being no less regarded as the outcome of such organic
modification. It was to the persistence of the molecular
modification evinced in the revivability of the experi-
entially modified function, that the term "unconscious
memory " was applied, and not to any latent efficiency
possessing the nature of mind. Professor Hering's
very lucid rendering of the genuine doctrine, the doc-
trine that memory is a " function of organized matter"
has, strange to say, become the nucleus of various fan-
tastic speculations even among biologists. The equivo-
cal term " unconscious memory " was seized upon and
pressed into service as a mental agency that coerces the
material of which the organism consists.
The essential and revolutionary import of the eight-
eenth century interpretation lies in the implied assertion
that there exist in the living individual mental acquire-
ments which are functions of his organic structure. And
it is evident that, if some mental states are allowed to be
thus functions of organic structure, then all mental states
must be allowed to be functions of organic structure;
for consciousness, meaning the manifestation of mental
states of every kind, is a unitary phenomenon, all con-
stituents of which are essentially of one and the same
nature. Our mental presence, or moment of actual con-
scious realization, contains all sorts of mental states in-
extricably blended, pointing to one common source of
emanation.
It is of the utmost importance to be perfectly straight-
forward, discarding every kind of vagueness and ambig-
uity, in declaring organization to be the veritable matrix
of mind. For the proof of this assertion, if it can be
given, decides for good, among the sundry claims for
philosophical insight, in favor of objective or realistic
monism. It would follow therefrom, inevitably, that —
consciousness being a function of organic structure —
organic structure cannot possibly be in its turn a product
of any kind of mental operation. Nor could consciousness
be anything in itself independent of organic structure; no
affection of a mental substance; no efflux from a universal
consciousness; no mode of an unknowable first cause.
The essential, all-important question, then, is: Does
organic structure determine mind, or does mind de-
termine organic structured
Many reasoners and investigators, before our present
animists, such as Haeckel, Murphy, Butler, etc., have
maintained that a mental activity of an unconscious kind
is shaping the organism. And if we ask why they have
come to evoke mental aid to effect this peculiar kind
of material grouping, we find that it is simply because
they were aware that our conception of physical effi-
ciency is incompetent to account for the reproduction of
the complex organism from a uniform germ. Thought-
ful biologists — however mechanically inclined otherwise
— have very generally felt obliged, no less than Plato
and Aristotle, to assume some hyper-physical principle
coercing vital building-material into organic shape.
Claude Bernard believed that " in all living germs there
resides a creative idea," and Professor Virchow admits
that the unity of the future organism must be somehow
potentially contained in the germ-cell. Considering
only morphological results, regardless of vital activities,
it remains, indeed, even then, utterly unintelligible on
mechanical principles how, through agitation by heat-
vibrations, the germ- molecules should be rendered com-
petent to transform adjacent pabulum into vital build-
ing-material, causing it to aggregate in the minutely
predetermined and wondrously intricate form of a living
chick or other complex organism. What, in all reality,
can it be that induces the material of the germ-cell to
accomplish such marvelous reproductive evolution? It
is this crux of biological science that has proved suffi-
ciently distracting to drive even cool investigators to des-
perate means of explanation. Our so-called memory
being a faculty of mental reproduction, it has seemed
plausible to some perplexed mechanical biologists that
something of the same nature as this ideal remembrance
of former existence must be likewise at the bottom of
organic reproduction.
Now, as hinted before, it is quite obvious that, if
memory or mental reproduction depends on specifically
organized structure — a state of things generally accepted
as a fact by evolutionists, — then specifically organized
structure cannot reciprocally depend on memory or
mental reproduction. This would be out of the ques-
tion even if mental states were capable of influencing
the physical nexus. A certain something cannot pos-
sibly be at one time the produced effect of something
else and at another time its producing cause. The rela-
tion cannot be reversed. If B is an outcome of A, then
A can by no manner of means become an outcome of
B, for B merges into existence only through A. But
waiving these impossibilities, and allowing, beside, that
mental reproduction may be itself a formative or or
ganizing power; admitting, furthermore, that no con-
tradiction is involved in assuming that something men-
tal can exist in an unconscious state; granting all these
THE OPEN COURT.
277
absurdities, it remains still wholly incomprehensible
how the unconscious memory of a number of germ-
molecules can transform an immensely larger mass of
pabulum into living substance, and finally succeed in
constructing the complex organism, — an achievement
which from the beginning must have been the aim of
the unconscious memory residing in the germ- mole-
cules.*
Professor Cope, who also believes in the organizing
power of mentality, is at least aware of the fraudulent
pretensions of so self-contradictory a thing as " uncon-
scious memory." He does not operate with this self-
stultifying and nullifying agent. He says: " No sensi-
bility " (or other mental condition) "is meant, which
implies that the person who is supposed to be sensible is
unconscious, — this is a contradiction in terms, or self-
contradictory language." (T, of E., pp. 9-10.) We en-
tirely agree. Let us not delude ourselves with words.
It is quite certain that memory as a mental fact is con-
scious, and that organic predisposition to action or func-
tion is not a mental fact.
How does Professor Cope then account for the
organic predisposition inherent in the germ-cell, which
causes it to construct the complex organism ? He assumes,
to begin with, a peculiar force, to which he gives the
name of " bathmism " or " growth-force." This force,
he maintains, increases organic bulk by "repetitive addi-
tions," i. e. cell-division. It " simply adds tissue either
in enlarging size or in repairing waste." (£?. of F., p.
203.) This explanatory assumption amounts, evidently,
to no more than giving a new name to the biologically
unexplained fact of cell-division and consequent increase
of bulk. Let us see whether we become in any way
enlightened by its application to the old fact. He says:
" The spermatozoid is highly endowed with static bathm-
ism, and communicates it to the female ovum. The
mingling of the two elements in the presence of nutritious
material presents an excess, and form-building results.
Its activity will regulate subsequent new growth by giv-
ing the motion of nutritive material its proper direction."
(O. of F., p. 191, note, 1SS6.) Here growth-force ac-
complishes really vastly more than "simply adding
tissue in enlarging size." It uses the added tissue as
"form-building" material; this being, indeed, the most
enigmatical part of the whole performance. But let
that pass for the present. The plain and observable
fact here is, and has long been, that "form-building
results" from "the mingling of the two elements," and
that "the motion of nutritive material" receives "its
proper direction." The great puzzle is to find a scien-
tific explanation for this marvelous occurrence. Has
Professor Cope made any advance in this direction by
♦The fallacy of Professor Haetkel's special view of this kind of mentally
originated organization, called by him the "Perigenesis der Plastidule," the
present writer has exposed in Mind, No. XIX, 1SS0.
calling in an entirely unknown and unverifiable agent,
and assuring us, that it is this most efficient fac Mum,
named bathmism, who is the veritable performer of the
stupendous organizing task in question? We all know
well enough that organisms grow; but are we any the
wiser for being told that they grow by means of growth-
force ?
But, even thus largely endowed, the constructive
ability of the new fac Mum fails, when called upon to
build up heterogeneous textures; for instance, to build
up, not merely a mass of epithelial tissue, but also mus-
cular and nerve-tissue. Here new help has to be evoked.
The task is to evolve a succession of graded tissues.
To accomplish this, Professor Cope infuses a "grade-
influence " into the growth-force, and is then in a position
to operate with "grade growth-force," simply by assum-
ing that "grade-influence directs growth-force." (O. of
F., p. 203.) But whence does "grade-influence " derive
its directing power? Professor Cope tells us: "grade-
force is not regarded here or elsewhere as a simple form
of energy, but as a class of energies, which are the re-
sultants of the interference of mind (/. e. consciousness)
with simple growth-force." (O. qfF.,p. 20S, note,iSS6.)
So we have come round again to the Anaxagorean device
of shifting on the nous the hyper-mechanical work mani-
fest in the material process, trusting that this deus ex
machina may somehow acquit himself of the imposed
duty.
(to be concluded in the next issue.)
CORRESPONDENCE.
A LETTER FROM PHILADELPHIA.
To the Editors: Philadelphia, June 6, 1SS7.
It is an old story, but a good one, that of Emerson in Egypt.
It is a kind of intellectual tickle, touching humorously on the
great characteristics of the Concord seer, and a spontaneous
ripple of amusement broke over his audience, yesterday, as Mr.
Sidney H. Morse, after reading with enthusiasm that noble poem,
The Sfhynx, continued : " You know the story is told, that when
Emerson went to Egypt and stood there in the desert by the old
Sphynx, she opened her lips and said to him, 'You're another!'"
This was at a meeting of the Sections of the Philadelphia
Society for Ethical Culture, held at the school building. The
regular course of lectures of the society, in the regular place of
meeting, has closed for the summer: but it has been thought
advisable to keep up some continuity of the corporate life of the
society in spite of the torrid season, and so it has been deter-
mined to hold meetings of the sections on the first Sunday of
each month until the regular lectures begin again. Mr. Morse,
of Boston, the sculptor, and former editor of The Radical, well-
known to the Liberals of New England, being in town at work
on a bust of our Camden poet, Walt Whitman, was persuaded to
talk to the sections on "Emerson." Mr. Morse said, aptly
enough, that the ethical movement seemed to be the heir of Em-
erson's teachings.
The leader of the Philadelphia society, Mr. Weston, at the
end of Mr. Morse's talk, took occasion to acknowledge that no
other writer had been to him so helpful and suggestive as Emer-
son. Other members of the society must have felt a like due
278
THE OPEN COURT.
impulse of spiritual gratitude as they sat there hearing one who
had known the man read and speak of his great message, while
from the chimney-piece shone down upon them the white light
of the benign wise face of the Emerson bust, delicately modeled
in the clay by Mr. Morse, and full of the gracious characteristics
of a loving likeness.
At the next meeting of the sections, on July 3, an unpub-
lished lecture of Professor Adler's on "The Influence of Mind
on Morality" will be read.
Walt Whitman lives, as is well known, in great seclusion.
He is visited, but rarely visits, and his early hours and simple
habits keep him as aloof from the world as his heart will let him.
The lecture in New York this spring, which everyone has heard
about lately, on the anniversary of the Lincoln Assassination,
was a repetition of a similar friendly ovation in Whitman's honor
a year ago, in the Chestnut Street Opera House here. From
then until last winter, the 2id of February, when he consented
to meet with his fellow-members of a new club recently organ-
ized in Philadelphia, and read them some of his poems, I suppose
he has not once met, in town, with anything like so large asocial
assemblage. The rooms were crowded, the low platform was
invaded; faces and figures, brighter and more conventional, were
close on every side, but none were so marked as his. In the
midst of the group about and on the platform he was still aloof.
He sat there in loose gray clothes, in a big rocking-chair, his
neck free in a wide, white turned-over collar, the long gray hair
and beard falling full upon it, his blue eyes looking a little dazed,
though masterly and unabashed, when he lifted them from his
glasses and his book or MS. to gaze out over the listening faces
in front of him. Poor poet! he looked more perplexed and
troubled afterward, when he had done reading and two or three-
people undertook to talk over theories of poetic art in general,
and his own peculiar methods in particular. He had invited and
allowed it, of course, and, of course, it was not the personal ele-
ment in it that bothered him. Perhaps it was a natural perplex-
ity (I will hazard the guess) in seeing that these men evidently-
had some established code of poetic methods in mind which they
called "art," of which he, n. poet, never thought of as a settled
thing cut out in a finished block with rigid edges and angles
square, but^ather as sometl ing everlastingly mouldable, as his
baggy clothes were by the more important body that wore them,
and asserted "Z-c style e'est Vhomme!"
The formation of this club, of which he is a member, was
quite an event in Philadelphia life last winter, and it promises to
be of progressive interest for many seasons to come. It was
formed upon the model of the Nineteenth Century Club, of New
York, and with much the same liberal aim in view; that is, to
gather together from the various prominent elements of literary,
artistic, scientific, journalistic, political and social life of the city,
a representative association which would be interested in the dis-
cussion and consideration of all manner of current subjects,
competent to follow and further the latest development of thought
or experiment and to debate thereupon, yet under such pleasant
social conditions as would not only enlarge thought but stimu-
late its best social influences. The first general meeting was
called early in January, and regulations and a name were then
discussed, but not until a later meeting,. on the 31st of January,
was the Contemporary Club duly christened and fully launched.
But at the first earlier meeting, one of its members, who has
since removed to New York, and whose hand and mind may
now be perceived in the editorial management of that capable new
paper, The Efocli, Mr. Nathan Haskell Dole, the translator of
Anna Karenina and other Russian novels, addressed the club on
"The Russian Language and Literature," and some discussion
then followed upon Realism in Fiction. It was at the second
regular meeting of this new club that Walt Whitman appeared.
Since then, ■■ Vagabond Life in Eastern Europe" has been des-
cribed by Mr. George F. Kennan; "Some Recent Phases of
Psycho-Physics" have been reviewed by Professor Stanley Hall,
and the question, " Who Pays Wages; Capital or Labor?" has
has been considered by Mr. Joseph D. Weeks.
Mr. Kennan's current magazine articles on Russian matters,
and his recent papers on Tolstoi, in The Century, are familiar.
And his vivid narrative of travel and personal adventure was the
main feature of the evening when he spoke before the club, it
may be understood; but not the least interesting were the details
concerning the political and intellectual slavery of the Russians,
and the family, property, and theories of Count Tolstoi, details
which were elicited from Mr. Kennan's special experience by
questions put by Mr. Talcott Williams, of The Press; Mr. Tatui
Baba, the distinguished Japanese Radical, and by others. In
fact, the interchange of question and answer, and the action and
reaction of different views and opinions, which is arranged to
take place upon the given subject of the evening after the stated
address is finished, is a most valuable feature of the plan of the
Contemporary Club. The fact that these after-clap discussions —
to say nothing of the smaller discussions thereupon agitated in
social groups — seemed to increase in interest at each successive
meeting, points encouragingly to the future success and influence
of the Philadelphia Club. Other signs of its success are not
wanting, for its membership is limited to a hundred, and its lim-
its are virtually full, while the list of applicants for admission is
patiently lengthening and awaiting possible vacancies. Why
should not such liberal clubs be organized from the representative
elements of every large city? And why would it not be desira-
ble for such clubs to form with each other some social affiliation?
Mr. Weeks, the Pittsburgh iron-king, who addressed the
club at its final meeting for the season, seems to have that union
of practical and speculative ability peculiar, I often think, to the
New Englander. I was not surprised, on asking him, to find that
he hailed from Connecticut. It is the Emersonian temper to
hitch your wagon to a star; and to make reforms practicable in
the business world there is needed all the shrewd energy of the
Yankee-ized American, for there are difficulties enough in the
way of the co-operation of capital and labor, and these were
brought out obstinately enough in the discussion that followed
Mr. Weeks' statement of the theory that the capitalist advances
the money which pays the wages labor earns, in the expectation
that the business undertaken will pay.
Professor Hall's review of " Recent Phases of Psycho-Phys-
ics" was cautious, but earnest and far-seeing, as becomes a Pro-
fessor of Psychology in the Johns Hopkins University. The
speakers afterward — Mr. Hodgson, a member of the English So-
ciety for Psychical Research, and Professors Fullerton and Jas-
trow, of the Universily of Pennsylvania — were evidently, on
various grounds, not fully in accord with his temper of approach.
Mr. Hodgson, of course, considered that Professor Hall did not
allow due weight to the evidence of the English society's experi-
ments. And some of this evidence is curious enough, no doubt,
as set forth in the society's reports; but after all, it can not be a
a mistake, on the other hand, to allow amply for the subtle, un-
conscious love of deception and deceiving which must at present
underlie such recondite research; and the most thoughtful per-
sons present that night must have felt that Professor Hall said
much when he said, according to my understanding of his words,
that, making all allowance for misconception and deception, there
was still evidence remaining of a trend of things which might
lead us to perceive that we were on the eve of the discovery of
some law in psychology as powerful to alter our knowledge
and progress in its domain, as the discovery of the law of evolu-
tion was powerful in biology; that the conditions were similar in
THE OPEN COURT.
■19
psychology now, as in biology then, just before that universal
principle was apprehended.
The readers of The Open Court will be interested to hear
of the earnest, almost spiritually scientific, work that Professor
Hall's psychology class is now doing in Baltimore. They are
visiting hospitals and asylums for the insane, collecting evidence
from close experience of all sorts and conditions of men, and
gathering knowledge of their brothers, which, subjected to scien-
tific scrutiny, sifting and arrangement, may do much to prepare
a wider moral knowledge. If they were to do nothing directly
available to knowledge, yet, to put us on the way to find methods
of approach in this great field of apprehension, would be to give
progress a leading question. We may take the hint that the
moral outlook at the Johns Hopkins is deep, earnest and stirring.
C. P.
LETTER FROM NEW YORK.
To the Editors : J u N E , i SS 7 .
Summer is upon us, full-fledged, and those who can do so are
leaving the city. Fashionable churches will soon be closed, and
they who most need access to these cool and beautifully seques-
tered places which are open only three or four hours in the week,
at most, are deprived of shade and comfort during the heat of
summer. I say nothing of spiritual refreshment, which is sup-
posed to be their raison d'etre, though that ought to be a higher
motive than the other for keeping them open. How many mil-
lions of dollars are thus locked up in the heart of this city at a
period when every nerve of the worker cries out for space and
shade, only the expert statistician can approximate.
Bishop Potter has set on foot a scheme to build a grand cathe-
dral, to cost, with the land upon which it is to be built, not less
than $6,000,000. Miss Wolfe's bequest to the Bishop affords a
nucleus, and subscriptions are rapidly coming in. The Episcopal
church in New York is very rich and generous — as far, at least,
as the good of the church is concerned.
One of the ostensible objects in building the cathedral is to
impress the public with the grandeur and dignity of the Episcopal
form of worship ; another and better is to furnish to that public a
place of rest which shall always be open to the weary and heavy-
laden. Daily service will afford a sinecure to a large number of
resident priests. With so many churches already closed thirty-
nine fortieths of the time, it seems pitiful that these should not
be made oases along our hot thoroughfares, and the six millions
be saved for industrial schools or other practical enterprises. If
is probably too much to expect that, however.
Meantime, the crusade against land monopoly and priestly
oppression, headed by Father McGlynn, assumes gigantic propor-
tions. No one who has not carefully followed its course can right-
fully conceive what may be its scope and extent. The daily papers
report Father McGlynn's meetings as they would report Bar-
num's circus; to them they afford sensational news of the day. In
reality, there is a widespread and spontaneous movement for which
society has long been in process of evolution, which has its center
in this city. The scouts upon its flank, composed of foreign
emissaries, may be anarchists; but there is nothing more grand
and pathetic than the patient self-possession and repression of
those who compose the rank and file of the main body of
agitators.
Of this semi-religious movement, undertaken in a great
measure by Catholics, Father McGlynn is the real exponent and
leader. Forced into the van by temperament and religious convic-
tion, he is not the man to yield craven submission to the Pope or
to take any retrograde step.
When he is about to speak four or five thousands vainly seek
admission after the largest hall in the city is filled. The audience
is made up of workingmen with their wives and daughters, at the
weekly meetings of the Anti-Poverty Society, and not a police-
man is to be seen.
When Father McGlynn comes to the front he is greeted with
an enthusiasm that finds vent alike in cheers and tears, and it is
long before the tumult ceases. Those who give this ovation are
mostly Catholics who have been helplessly bound to the Jugger-
naut of a foreign Pope, and here is one of themselves who is
gradually loosening their chains while breaking his own thrall-
dom. As he stands before them, big-bodied, big-brained and big-
souled, with a noble, overhanging brow, massive chin and determ-
ined mouth, one moment stern as fate, again quivering with Irish
wit or drooping with sympathy, meanwhile pouring out his fervid
soul in natural oratory, the spectator realizes something of his
peculiar influence.
The workingman to whom he speaks is fairly intelligent and
altogether self-respecting; he is in earnest, and he is multiplying
in power and numbers. And Father McGlynn is his prophet.
No man was ever more loved than he, and no man, since Luther,
has had the opportunity and provocation to become the leader in a
church reform which, very likely, may j-et be felt from Rome to
'ts farthest circumference.
Concerning the peculiar land theories held by Father Mc-
Glynn and his friend Henry George, it is not necessary to speak.
We are only considering his influence upon religious thought.
The Protestant clergy, as a whole, are afraid of Father Mc-
Glynn, yet there is a distinct growth in liberal thought among
them from year to year. From Beecher's popularity and power
they have learned to let creeds alone or handle them with gloved
fingers. They choose more practical topics and give illustrations
from real life more freely than they did five years ago, and they are
eager for accessions to their ranks. For instance, a ladj' belong-
ing to the liberal school of thought, living in a small suburb of
New York, lately joined the Dutch Reformed church in order to
secure social advantages otherwise wanting. " Do you love
Christ?" was the only question asked by the pastor and brethren
in examining the candidate. "What do you mean by that phrase?"
she returned. "Well, do \ou love the principles of fraternal love
and righteousness which he taught?" " Most certainly I do,"
she replied, and that was all they required. There was no sug-
gestion of the atonement or other mysterious articles of ortho-
dox faith to which she could not have subscribed. And this case
is a type of many more. Comment upon the honesty of all con-
cerned is unnecessary.
Is it not a part of the great liberal religious movement that the
degree of Bachelor of Letters has just been conferred on Colum-
bia College's first woman graduate? Miss Hankey, of Staten
Island, passed the Harvard examination, four years ago, on twenty
branches of study. She has taken the full course at Columbia
and passed all its examinations with a remarkably high standing.
Four prizes were awarded her for excellence in chemistry. Miss
Hankey was not permitted to attend lectures or recite, and all
her study was done without the stimulus of teachers or follow-
students. Her graduating thesis on " The Literature of Greece "
won high encomiums, and President Barnard has watched her
course with surprise and delight.
Hester M. Poole.
D. A. WASSON'S POEMS.
To the Editors: Jamaica Plains, Mass.
According to the wish of the late Mr. D. A. Wasson, I pro-
pose to arrange and publish a collection of his poems. Many of
these have become very dear and precious to those who have
known them in MSS., or in various collections, or in magazines. It
is desirable to make the collection of his best productions as com-
plete as possible, and I have already received copies of poems
280
THE OPEN COURT.
from private sources, which were unpublished and unknown to
me. I shall be very grateful to any one possessing such poems
who will send them to me or give me information in regard to
them. Ednah D. Cheney.
BOOK REVIEWS.
Gedenkhuch. Erinnerung an Karl Heinzen. Milwaukee:
Freidenker Publishing Co., 18S7.
This pamphlet of 107 pages shows how well Heinzen deserved
the monument dedicated to him at Forest Hill, near Boston, a
year ago, with the inscription " His life work the elevation of man-
kind." He was driven, on account of his share in the revolution
of 184S, from Germany, and became in 1S53 the editor of an anti-
slavery journal at Louisville, Kentucky, where his press was de-
stroyed by a mob. Among seventy-seven other publications are
several in English, for instance, those entitled Mankind the Crim-
inal, Six Letters to a Pious Man, The True Character of Humboldt,
and What is Humanity? The last was published in 1S77. The
speeches at his funeral, in 1SS0, and at the dedication of the monu-
ment, by Messrs. S. R. Kohler, R. Lieber and C. H. Boppe,
editor of the freidenker, are in perfect harmony with the brief
biographical sketches, and with the extracts from his writings.
The spirit of these last may be judged from the words: " I could
be perfectly contented at seeing the world go to ruin if a lie was
needed to save it." " It is a law of history, as it is a law of botany,
that no fruit can come forth and ripen unless the ideal blossoms
first drop off and are forgotten." " Never have I covered up truth
as contraband. I have always lighted the torch of thought com-
pletely, and announced my entire purpose." F. m. ii.
Try-Square, or The Church of Practical Religion. By
Reforter. New York Truth Seeker Co.; pp. 312.
This purports to give the history of an independent society
started by a plain, blunt, yet thoughtful and practical man named
Job Sawyer, in a place called Pinville. The author professes only
to give notes of the movement as a reporter. The organization
was called "The Church of Practical Religion," and "Try-Square"
was the rule by which the organizer tested his own and the
society's work. This rule was "every act or word that will result
in injury to anybody is wrong and is prohibited. No other act or
word is prohibited." Uncle Job Sawyer explains that " after using
this rule constantly for some time I began to call it my Try-Square
from the similarity in the manner of its use to the little implement
called by that name used by carpenters and some other mechanics
to determine whether their work is square and correct." Many
questions of importance are discussed in the plain talks reported
as given by " Uncle Job " in a sensible, earnest way. Law, property,
temperance, infidelity, conscience, death, etc., are among these ques-
tions. The book is radical in tone, but temperate in spirit and
utterance.
The Art Amateur for June, which is numbered 1 of Vol.
XVII, appears in its new cover. This is neat and unobjectionable.
But our designers must either be very fully employed, or very un-
skillful, if a hundred-dollar prize could bring out nothing more
original or beautiful than a medallion with a head of Minerva
and a ribbon string. However, the contents are good, if the out-
side be plain, as is often the case with many things in this
world. The most valuable paper of this number is a sketch of
the "Life and Works of Sir Frederick Leighton," the President
of the Royal Academy, illustrated by fac similes of some of his
drawings. The most interesting of these is a study for his paint-
ing of Cymon Iphigenia, a very beautiful female head, reclining,
with the arms raised over it. There is also a study of drapery
and heads from the studies for the ceiling of Mr. Maynard's
home in New York. The portrait of the artist himself gives the
impression of a handsome Englishman, strong, intelligent, brave
and frank, and there are woodcuts of other pleasant subjects.
Beside the usual notices of saloons and art gossip, we were
specially interested in an instructive note on " Composite Pho-
tography," pointing out the fallacy to which this method is liable,
especially from what is called atomic inertia. A good illustra-
tion of this art is given in a composite photograph of a literary
club of nine young ladies. The result is very pleasing, and tends
to show that literature is favorable both to health and beauty.
We might quote many bright things from this excellent number,
but as we could not copy the many fine designs our readers had
better get it for themselves.
A very lovely frontispiece illustrates Professor H. H. Boye-
sen's Norwegien story " Fiddle John's Family," begun in the
July number of St. Nicholas. Other delightful illustrations of
English scenery accompany Frank Stockton's "In English Coun-
try." Palmer Cox, Isabel Frances Bellows, Charles G. Leland,
Mary E. Wilkins and Anna M. Pratt are among this month's con-
tributors. The National Holiday is paid due respect to, in prose
and verse.
Treasure Trove is one of the best as well as cheapest of the
young people's magazines. In the June number, the Queen's
Jubilee is commemorated by a pictorial and prose sketch of Vic-
toria and a chapter descriptive of" Parliament and the Tower," and
Fourth of July by an article on " Bunker Hill." Instruction
as well as amusement is the aim of this publication. 151 Wabash
avenue, Chicago. $1.00 per year.
The West American Scientist says:
Germanium is an addition to the list of known elementary
substances, discovered by Dr. Clemens Winkler, a German
chemist. It exists in combination with silver and sulphur in
agyrodite, a new mineral.
PRESS NOTICES.
Its m;itter is wholly original, and it is ably edited. — Fciirhaven (Mass.) Star.
Some of the most able and influential thinkers of the age contribute to its
pages. — Syracuse (Neb.) journal.
It is a very interesting and instructive publication, and its articles are con-
tributed by a bevy of writers of well-deserved celebrity. Published at Chicago,
$3 a year, 15 cents a number. — Maiden (Mass.) Mirror.
The Open Court, a fortnightly journal, now established in Chicago,
reaches its eighth number this week. Its elegantly printed pages are crowded
with the choicest epigrammatic literature of the best thinkers and philosophical
writers of the age. — The Graphic Nezus.
The Open Court is the title of a new publication that reaches us from
Chicago — a fortnightly review, which numbers among its contributors such
writers as James Parton, M, D. Conway, John Burroughs, Felix Oswald, etc.
The price is three dollars a year, and it is richly worth it. — Ne-.u E)igland
Observer, Keene, N. H.
The current number of The Open Court, published at Chicago, contains
a large array of special contributions on various subjects, able editorials on
timely topics, correspondence, poetry, and book reviews. The Open Court
is destined to take rank as one of the foremost of American periodicals. —
Lebandon (Ind.) Pioneer.
The Open Court, a fortnightly journal, issued from Chicago, is before \is.
This new publication isdevot-d to the work of establishing ethics and religion
upon a scientific basis. Those who enjoy solid reading matter, furnishing food
for earnest thought, will be greatly interested in The Open Court. — National
City Record, San Diego, Cal.
The current number of The Open Court, a fortnightly journal published
in Chicago and devoted to the work of establishing ethics and religion upon
a scientific basis, is full of interesting and instructive matter. Prof. Max
Muller contributes an article on the "Simplicity of Language " "The Relation
of the Doctrine of Population to Social Reform" is an article filled with brain
food for the reformer, while the ultra-scientist would find much in Richard A.
Proctor's "Common Consent and the Future Life." "Present Aims," by
Arthur R. Kimball, is another splendid essay.— Peoria(l]\.)A'atiouai Democrat.
The Open Court
A Fortnightly Journal,
Devoted to the Work of Establishing Ethics and Religion Upon a Scientific Basis.
Vol. I. No. n.
CHICAGO, JULY 7, 1887.
( Three Dollars per Year.
) Single Copies, 15 cts.
[The second of Prof. F. Max Miiller's three lectures
on the "Science of Thought" is commenced in this
issue. This lecture on " The Identity of Language
and Thought," and the third, on the " Simplicity
of Thought," not published nor to be published in
England, have been secured exclusively for The
Open Court, in which both will be printed from the
author's manuscript. This distinguised philologist
believes that language is the history of human thought,
and no other man living probably is as competent as he
to read this history understandingly, especially those
pages which indicate how men reasoned and what they
thought during the world's intellectual childhood.]
THE IDENTITY OF LANGUAGE AND THOUGHT.*
BY PROF. F. MAX MULLER.
One of three Lectures on the Science of Thought delivered at
the Royal Institution, London, March, 1S7S.
Part 1.
Language, under the microscope of the compara-
tive philologist, has turned out to be a very simple thing.
With about one hundred and twenty radical concepts
and twenty demonstrative elements we could build up a
dictionary and a grammar rich enough to supplv all the
demands of Shakespeare; and surely more than that, no
language can fairly be called upon to supply. I stated
in my last lecture that I had succeeded in reducing all
actual roots of Sanskrit, about eight hundred in number,
to one hundred and twenty-one concepts, but I added
that the number of concepts might easily have been re-
duced still further. The fecundity of these roots and
the pliancy of our fundamental concepts are perfectly
astounding. If you take the concept of uniting, or put-
ting two and two together, you find it expressed by seven-
teen different roots. No doubt, every one of these roots
had originally a more special meaning. Some meant to
plait, others to sow, to weave, to bunch, to roll, to tie.
But every one of them might have been generalized and
afterward again specialized to such an extent that it
could have supplied every verb, noun, adjective or ad-
verb expressive of some kind of union ; that is to say, one
root might, if necessary, have done the work of seven-
teen.
' Copyright, 1SS7, by The Open Court Publishing Co.
Now, if I took only one of these seventeen roots, all
meaning to unite, I am afraid I should spend the whole
of my lecture, if I attempted to give you all its deriva-
tions in Sanskrit, Greek, Latin and English. What I
wish to make quite clear to you is, how words and con-
cepts, which seem to us quite modern, belong neverthe-
less to what we should call the very granite of our
thoughts. The growth of our thoughts has been his-
torical and continuous. Many of the intermediate links
may have been forgotten or lost, but they were there,
and it is the object of the Science of Language to restore
them, and thus to furnish a safe foundation for the
Science of Thought.
We shall probably consider fashionable a very mod-
ern word, and so it is; still it is closely connected with
Latin factio; c meant originally the make or cut of a gar-
ment, whether of a raw skin, as worn by a primitive
hunter, or of the most stylish sealskin dolmanette of the
present season. We do not imagine that anything will
have seemed what we call queer to the primitive and
sober ancestors of our race. Still, queer is only the
German que/; what runs across and out of this a name for
every kind of oddity or extravagance has been formed.
What we call righteous was originally* conceived as
right and. straight, straightforward; and the root of right
is ARG, which means to lead, to steer, from which
also rux, a ruler, a king, royal and all the rest. Gay is
the German gahe, literally going, or, as we now say,
going it. I 'apil is." like smoke " ; rapturous, from rapio,
what carries us away. Noble, Latin nobilis, from the
root GNA, to know, meant originally " worth know-
ing," which gives us a high idea of the Roman nobility,
at least in its first beginnings. In Kingley's expression,
" one of nature's own noblemen," the original meaning
is still faintly perceptible.
What I wish you to see is, that there never was any
break in language, that all that is new in it is old, and
all that is old is new, and that if we take a»y of the eight
hundred primitive roots, or any of the one hundred and
twenty simple concepts, we can derive from it any
quantity of words to satisfy every fancy of our mind.
Take, for instance, the root Y AS, which in a primitive
state of society expressed the act of tethering or snaring.
In Sanskrit this root helps us to express cattle; pasu,
which is the Latin pecus, Gothic faihu, German vieh,
cattle; also pecunia and pecus, our lawyer's fee. It
282
THE OPEN COURT.
supplies, besides, pasa, fetter, and similar words. Now,
when we have a word for animal, such as pecus, we have
also the material for expressing such concepts as peculiar,
the transition of meaning being clear enough from pecu-
lium, one's private property, to peculiaris, anything that
is one's own, — anything that is proper, singular, indi-
vidual, and, it may be, odd. It is difficult to resist the
siren songs of language, and not to follow her into all
her flights of imagination. Every word, as soon as we
hear it, carries us off to near and distant memories. They
float about us like thin gossamer filaments in autumn.
But we must for the present resist the temptation of
catching at them, and confine our attention to a few only
of the principal concepts, expressed by means of our
root PAkS". In Greek, then, this rootdoes not only supply
the concept of fastening, but also that of standing fast.
nbrrrya means "I stand fast," and this is a great step
beyond " I make fast." We have here the constantly-
recurring process of a root expressive of an act becom-
ing a root expressive of a state. Again, what is " made
fast " means not only what is compact and solid, but also
what is curdled and frozen. Rime, frost, hoar-frost, all
are expressed by this root; besides this, the ice, or the
scum on the surface of milk, — any raised surface, in fact,
— comes to be called wayoc, a mound, a hill, as, for
instance, Areopagus, the hill of Ares at Athens, and the
great council held there. What is thick is called from
the same root, TrayiV, from which pachy-dermatous, or
thick-skinned. Lastly, as we say twofold, from folding,
the Greeks said u-n-ai, once, literally " one stick;"
German Ein-fach.
If we look to Latin we find an equally large harvest.
Here such coiTcepts as settling, agreeing, making peace,
are expressed by the root FAS, in paciscor, pact its sum,
in pax, peace, pacare to pacify, and this pacare helps us
to express the idea of payment, for to pay was originally
conceived as to pacify, just as a quittance was a quieting.
It is so difficult, as I said just now, to resist the tempta-
tion of following language through all her vagaries.
But when one speaks of quietus and giving the quietus,
and all that, one cannot help thinking of the different
shades of meaning which so simple and harmless a word
as quietus is able to reflect. Quietus in English is not
only quiet, but also quite, entirely, as in quyte and dene,
i. e., quietly and cleanly, that is, altogether; while the
same word, after passing through French, appears once
more as coy and coyish, a word of a very peculiar flavor,
which can only be approximately rendered by quiet,
modest, bashful or retired.
But to return to pdx and peace. We find in Latin
still a large number of words and derivatives all spring-
ing from the same root. There is pignits, a pledge,
there is pdgina, a page, there is propdgo, a layer, then
offspring in general; there is also pdgus, a settlement, a
village, and from it paganus, a pagan, a heathen.
In German this root is bifurcated, being either fah
or fang. Thus fallen in modern German is to catch,
but also fangen, from which gefangen, captured,
Gefingniss, prison. Fdhig means able to clutch, but
afterward capable, clever; and Fdhigkeit is the name for
talent. Fair has also been traced to Anglo Saxon facger,
Gothic fagr-s, literally fit, then beautiful, then kind. On
the other hand, finger seems originally to have meant
taker, just as fang in English is a tusk or a claw. All
these words are only like peaks standing out by themselves,
but if we had time we should find every one of them
surrounded by greater or smaller heights all leading up
to the same summit. The one verb fangen enables us
to express an infinity of thoughts in German. An-
fangen means to begin, Um-fangen means to embrace,
verfangen means to catch, from which vcrfinglich, lit-
erally perplexing, as einc verfdngliche Frage, an awk-
ward question. Fmpfangen means to receive, empfdng-
lich may express receptive, but also sympathetic, senti-
mental, and all that. Unterfangen is to undertake, but
it has the by-sense of a bold undertaking.
All this is only meant to give you an idea of the
enormous variety of thought that can be traced back,
and, as a matter of fact, took its rise from one single
root such as PA6", to tether. Whether we speak of
peculiar people or of peace of mind, of pagans or of
the propagation of the gospel, of a page of writing or
of the Areopagus, of Gefingniss, prison, or of ein
cmpfdngliches Hcrz, a susceptible heart, we do it all by
means of one and the same primary concept, — PA.S,
to tether.
Multiply that power eight hundred times, — that is to
say, take any one of the eight hundred roots and draw
from them as Sanskrit, Greek, Latin and German have
drawn from that one root PA-S1, — and you will see that a
language with such a capital might be as rich as Croesus.
We have now learned what language is, what it is
made of, and we are, I think, justified in saying that it
represents the simplest miracle in the world.
Let us now turn our eyes on thought. Is thought a
very perplexing thing? -Is it very complicated, way-
ward like the wind, tortuous like the convolutions of the
brain, inscrutable like the sidereal nebulae? It seems so.
If anything is mysterious, it has often been said it is
our mind; if anything is wonderful it is our understand-
ing; if anything lifts us above the whole of creation it
is our reason. Even those who use sober and subdued
language about everything else, break out into rapturous
strains when they speak about the intellect and all that
has been achieved by that old wizard.
I shall try to show you that nothing is so easy to be
understood as our understanding, nothing so perfectly
reasonable as our reason, and that the whole of our
intellect, all the tricks of the wizard in our brain, con-
sist in nothing but — addition and subtraction.
THE OPEN COURT.
283
This is no new discovery, but it is a discovery that is
very apt to be forgotten ! One of the cleverest and
most consecutive thinkers whom this country or the
world has produced — I quote the words of Stuart Mill
— declared, more than two hundred years ago, that
thinking consisted simply in addition and subtraction.
This sounds very discouraging; but you have only
to try and you will find that Hobbes was perfectly
right. And not only Hobbes, but much more ancient
philosophers too. Whoever it was that invented the
word cogito, knew that to think was to combine, for
cogito stands for co-agito and means to co-agitate, to
bring together, to combine; and it is clear that we can-
not combine two or many things without at the same
time separating them from all the rest.
Whoever found out the word intellect, had learnt
the same lesson. Intellect stand for inter-lcct, and
inter-lego, meant originally to interlace, to bind together,
to combine, and that is all that the intellect is meant and
is able to achieve.
Any book on logic will teach you the same lesson,
namely that all our propositions are either affirmative or
negative, that we can do no more than to say A is B, or
that A is not B. Now in saying A is B, we simply add
A to the sum already comprehended under B, while in
saying A is not B, we subtract A from the sum that can
be comprehended under B.
But why should it be considered as lowering our
high status, if what we call thinking turns out to be no
more than adding and subtracting? Mathematics in the
end consists of nothing but addition and subtraction, and
think of the wonderful achievements of a Newton or a
Gauss, achievements before which ordinary mortals like
myself stand simply aghast. To my mind nothing is
greater than to see the greatest results achieved by the
smallest means, and if our race has completed the work
which we most admire, the temple of our intellect, by
such natural processes as combining and separating)
surely we may be as proud to belong to it as if we
belonged to a race of giants or angels.
There is nothing new in all this, it is one of those
open secrets which are not often mentioned, but which
everybody knows, as soon as they are mentioned, though
it may be that some people do not like to be reminded
of them.
But though the process of thinking, that is of add-
ing and subtracting, is so simple, much depends of
course on what we combine or separate. Now what is
it that we combine and separate? Most people would
answer, we combine and separate what is given us by
our senses, and they might say again, that nothing can
be simpler than what we see or hear, or smell or touch.
Whole systems of philosophy have been built upon
what is called experience, and this so-called experience
is supposed to be so obvious, so natural, so intelligible,
that nothing need be said about it. True philosophy,
on the contrary, knows of nothing more difficult, more
perplexing, more beyond the reach of all our reasoning
powers than what is called experience. Kant's whole
philosophy may be said to be founded on the question :
"How is experience possible?" Here, too, the stone
which other builders refused, is become the head-stone
of the corner.
It is curious to see how the senses and what they
give us are treated with undisguised contempt by many
so-called philosophers. Do we not share our senses with
the animals — they seem to say, and is it not, therefore,
the lowest kind of knowledge which man possesses?
Why trouble about what we can handle and see and
hear? Any one can understand that, and there is much
higher game for real philosophers. To me it seems, on
the contrary, that there is nothing more mysterious than
what the senses give us. We can understand our un-
derstanding, we can reason out our reason, but we can
as little understand what we see and hear, as we can see
and hear what we understand. Our sensuous knowl-
edge, so far as its material is concerned, will always re-
main the standing miracle of our life on earth. So far
from despising it as obvious, palpable and plain, we
should rather fall down on our knees before it as the
unknown, the unknowable, the beyond.
But though this beyond — what Kant calls das Ding
an sick, must forever remain unknown, we know at
least what we have made of it — that is, we know what
it has become when we know it. I need not dwell in
this place on the well-worn argument that we never can
know a thing as it is by itself. To know a thing by
itself would mean to know it, not as we know it, but 'as
we do not know it, and that is clearly self-contradictory.
Then what do we know? We never know things, but
we are conscious of our sensations only. We first of all
feel pain and pleasure, hot and cold, sweet and bitter,
but that is feeling and not yet knowing. In order to
change feeling into knowledge, we must first of all look
upon our feelings as caused by something. There is no
reason why we should do so, except what we choose to
call reason, or what Schopenhauer calls the category of
causality. A tab/ila rasa, a wax tablet, simply receives
an impression, it does not change it into something that
caused the impression. The best proof that we are not a
tabula rasa, as Locke and all sensualistic philosophers
imagine, is that we, as soon as we receive an impression,
are driven to say, " Something has impressed us." That
something, however, is our postulate, it is our doing; it
is simply what we create out of the sensations of which
alone we are conscious.
But not only do we create this objective world of ours,
the things, but we place them, not within us, where
the sensations are, but without us, that is, in space. And
secondly, we place them without us, not in a lump, but
284
The open court.
one after another, in succession, or, as we call it, in time.
Space and time are necessities of that objective world
which we have created, and Kant calls them, therefore,
rightly the necessary forms of sensuous intuition.
This may sound very learned, but it is really as sim-
ple as child's play. What can we be conscious of? Not
anything outside us — for how should we get outside
ourselves? but something within us, something that we
feel, our sensations. And if we transform what is within
us, into something without us, of course it must be
some-where — and that is what we call space, and it must
be somewhen, if we may say so, that is it must be in
time. What is nowhere and nowhen, is, as far as we
are concerned, as if it were not. But when we have got
so far, when we have changed our sensations into things
that are supposed to cause our sensations, and when we
have placed them one by the side of another, and one
after another, that is in space and time, can we say then
that we know them ? Let us try the experiment.
I say once more, how sensations arise, how ethereal
vibrations produce in us consciousness of something,
how neurosis becomes aesthesis, we do not know and
never shall know. But having the sensations of light
or darkness within us, what do we know of any cause
of darkness or any cause of light? Nothing. We
simply suffer darkness, or enjoy light, but what makes
us suffer and what makes us rejoice, we do not know —
till we can express it.
And how do we express it? We may try what we
like, we can express it in language only. We may feel
dark, but till we have a name for dark and are able to
distinguish darkness as what is not light, or light as
what is not darkness, we are not in a state of knowledge,
we are only in a state of passive stupor.
We often imagine that we can possess and retain,
even without language, certain pictures or phantarmata ;
that, for instance, when lightning has passed before our
ejes, the impression remains for some time actually visi-
ble, then vanishes more and more when we shut our
eyes, but can be called back by the memory whenever
we please. Yes, we can call it back, but not till we can
call, that is, till we can name it. In all our mental acts,
even in that of mere memory, we must be able to give
an account to ourselves of what we do, and how can we
do that except in language? Even in a dream we do
not know what we see, except we name it, that is, make
it knowable to ourselves. Everything else passes by and
vanishes unheeded. We either are simply suffering, and
in that case we require no language, or we act and
react, and in that case we can react on what is given us,
by language only. This is really a matter of fact and
not of argument. Let any one try the experiment and
he will see that we can as little think without words as
we can breathe without lungs.
We may say, for instance, that we know the blue
sky, or we know that the sky is blue. But how do we
know it? Nothing can be blue without us. Outside
there may be millions of vibrations of luminous ether,
but what we call blue is ours, just as what we call sweet
is ours. Sugar is not sweet, tve are sweet; the sky is
not blue, we are blue. And who tells us anything about
the sky? How do we know that there is a sky and that
it is blue. Should we know of a sky, if we had no
name for it? We have only to try to think of sky with-
out naming it, and we shall find that sky and all that it
conveys to us is gone. And so with everything else.
If a language has no name for father-in- law, the peo-
ple who speak it do not know what father-in-law is.
They know a person who is the father of their wife,
supposing thev have names for wife and father, but they
do not know any father-in-law. Try to teach a savage
what a circle is; — you can only do it by giving him a
name. You may point to a wheel; — that will give him
the percept or presentation of a wheel. You may give
him a rope, fastened to a pole, and making him go
round, that will give him the percept of running round.
But the concept of a circle, and more particularly of a
perfect circle, cannot be produced or fixed in the mind,
except through a name and its definition. It may be
said that a geometrician can define a circle without a
name, but how does he define it? Again, by means of
names. If he calls a circle a figure, he uses a name; if
he calls it plane figure, comprehended by a single curve
line, he is dealing in names; and even if he called it a
mere something, he would still be within the spell of
names. We may try what we like, if we want to
think, if we want to add and to subtract, we can do it
in one way only, namely by names.
How is it, I have been asked, that people go through
the most complicated combinations while playing chess
and all this without uttering a single word? Does not
that show that thought is possible without words, and,
as it were, by mere intuition? It may seem so, if we
imagine that speech must always be audible, but we
have only to watch ourselves while writing a letter,
that is, while speaking to a friend, in order to see that
a loud voice is not essential to speech. Besides, by long
usage speech has become so abbreviated that, as with
mathematical formulas, one sign or letter may compre-
hend long trains of reasoning. And how can we imag-
ine that we could play chess without language, however
silent, however abbreviated, however algebraic? What
are king, queen, bishops, knights, castles and pawns,
if not names? What are the squares on the chessboard
to us, unless they had been conceived and named as
being square and neither round nor oblong?
I do not say, however, that king and queen and
bishops are mere names.
Is there such a thing as a mere name? A name is
nothing if it is not a nomen, that is, what is known, or
THE OREN COURT.
2S5
that by which we know. Nomen was originally
gnomen, from gnosco to know, and was almost the same
word as notio, a notion. A mere name is therefore self-
contradictory. It means a name which i6 not a name;
but something quite different, namely a sound, a flatus
vocis. We do not call an empty egg-shell a mere egg,
nor a corpse a mere man; then why should we call a
name without its true meaning, a mere name?
But if there is no such thing as a mere name, neither
is there such a thing as a mere thought or a mere con-
cept. The two are one and inseparable. We may dis-
tinguish them as we distinguish the obverse from the
reverse of a coin ; but to try to separate them would be
like trying to separate a convex from the concave sur-
face of a lens. We think in names and in names only.
MONTGOMERY ON THE THEOLOGY OF EVOLU-
TION.*
BY PROFESSOR E. D. COPE.
Part I.
A disputant can have no greater good fortune than
to have an antagonist who correctly understands his posi-
tion, and who represents it fairly in discussion. I expe-
rienced this pleasure in reading Dr. Montgomery's
review of my opinions. But this is not my only satis-
faction. If I am wrong I wish to know it, and I know
of no one whom I think better able to show me my
error, if any there be, than a man who is at the same
time scientist and metaphysician. I have been desirous
of understanding the metaphysical objections to my
views, and now I have them so clearly expressed that he
who runs may read. And I propose to examine these
objections, and, in the language of Professor Tait,f to
use my "reason as best I can for the separation of the
truth from the metaphysics" which they contain.
In beginning, I must make an appeal on behalf of the
a posteriori method and against the a priori method of
investigation ; for the scientific as against the philosophical
and theological methods. I do this not as against Dr.
Montgomery's method, which is generally, though not
always, a posteriori, but for the purpose of explaining
distinctly my own. The a posteriori method only can lead
to a knowledge of the universe as it is ; the a priori meth-
od leads either to credulity or skepticism; in either case
to uncertainty. It is true that a system which rests on
observation and inference must be, in the present state
of human knowledge, incomplete. It will display unfin-
ished designs, foundations without superstructures, and
many defects incident to insufficient materials; but it will
be permanent and trustworthy as far as it goes. This is
all that I claim for the hypotheses of the The-
ology of Evolution, most of which have been more
fully elaborated in other publications both prior and
* A Lecture by E. D. Cope. Arnold & Co.
t Properties oj Matter, p. 47.
Philadelphia. 1SS7.
subsequent. In these I have endeavored to confine
myself to observed phenomena as foundation materials.
I have not troubled myself to investigate extensively
the problem of cognition, since most of the prevalent
metaphysical idealism (in the modern sense) is mere
verbal quibbling. Moreover, in our modern ob-
servations of natural phenomena we have not only
the mutual aid rendered by one sense to another, but the
corroborative evidence of numerous capable and intelli-
gent co-workers in the field. If the observations thus
accumulated are untrustworthy, as the idealistic school
would have us believe, it must be admitted that there is
a remarkable method in all these errors. And one of
the most important results of these so-called errors is the
doctrine of mental evolution as a corollary of biologic
evolution, which I think gives to idealism in the
Berkeleyan sense its final quietus.
The facts on which the theistic hypothesis rests are
briefly as follows: Mind is a primitive and controlling
property of matter, because,
1. Consciousness in the form of will directs, in
the beginning, the designed movements of living beings,
thus giving rise to habits and automatic and reflex move-
ments of all kinds.
2. The evolution ol the organs, and therefore
of the entirety of the species of living things, has been
primarily due to movements inaugurated in consciousness
in the form of will within themselves, or to movements
which are the reflex products of consciousness, all under
the restrictions presented by the environment.
Both of the above propositions are amply sustained
by the facts of physiology, embryology and paleontol-
ogy. Two other propositions are included in my
thesis. The first of these is a more remote inference
from the facts than either of the preceding, and is an
interpretation of them, which is indicated by the con-
clusions of the latter. They are:
3. The integrity of the physical basis of con-
sciousness is, in this planet, within certain ranges of
temperature, maintained by a form of energy which is
not chemical, but which resists the action of true
chemism. It follows that the origin of protoplasm can-
not be traced to chemical energy alone, but to some
energy of the vital type which must have been a prop-
erty of a physical basis, not protoplasm. Hence con-
sciousness may be a property of non-protoplasmic
physical bases.
4. The hypothesis that there is no physical basis
of consciousness outside of the earth, is, from the
above point of view, and from a consideration of the
rules of probability, so improbable as to border on the
absurd.
Dr. Montgomery does not consider propositions
3 and 4, but he emphatically denies the truth of
propositions i and 2. According to him mind in
286
THE OPEN COURT.
its various aspects is dynamically quite distinct from the
material world, the two being parallel, but with-
out mutual interaction. He finds a logical absurd-
ity in the supposition that mind (will) controls the
direction of energy, and hence of matter. For this and
for other reasons he sees my system "vanish into thin
air," or to lie wrecked on the rocks where so many
other craft have perished. I observe just here that
Dr. Montgomery runs no such risk, for he seems to
have no boat of his own. Indeed, I should say,
he was safely ashore, stranded among the sands of self-
contradictory opinions, in which the feet sink at every
step, leaving the traveler toward the truth in about
the position from which he attempts to start. Thus, as
a substitute for the proposition that will controls the
direction of energy, he "fully admits as a leading propo-
sition to be scientifically proved against mechanical biol-
ogy, that spontaneous activities have played the greatest
part in evolution, and that those special spontaneous
activities called volitional and emanating from nerve-
certers have conduced moie than any other influence to
realize the organic development of higher animals," etc.
(Criticism, Part III.) In this passage we find Dr.
Montgomery to be distinctly affirming our propositions
i and 3, which he has previously (Part I) as dis-
tinctly denied. The two propositions are again clearly
adopted (Part III, end) in the following language;
" The aid which sense-perception affords to organic
development cannot be overestimated ; but the pro-
gressive organization to which it ministers, takes place
just as unconsciously as all other organizations. * * *
Only our vital spontaneity enables us to place ourselves
in such relations to our medium as will best conduce to
our welfare. And we know by means of pleasurable
or painful feelings which of the manifold influences
of the medium are affecting us beneficially a fid which
harmfully.'''' (The italics are mine.) In the last sent-
ence consciousness takes the lead, but in the first, pro-
gressive organization takes place unconsciously. Both
statements are correct, but appear to be self-contradic-
tory, and Dr. Montgomery does not furnish the expla-
nation of the contradiction. It is furnished by the
well-known fact of cryptopnoy, in the organization of
unconscious habits out of conscious beginnings. These
and other expressions show that the facts are well-known
to Dr. Montgomery, but that in this instance he failed
to connect them. And I interject here the observation
that I find a similar failure "to connect" in several
places in his Part III. I refer to assertions of the
unconscious nature of various acts which he believes,
with myself, to affect organism. This correct statement
of oft observed facts does not, in the least, invalidate my
position that the movements in question were inaugu-
rated in consciousness. They have passed through the
usual "catagenesis" by cryptopnoy.
I find Dr. Montgomery's position in the monistico-
dualistic controversy to be somewhat difficult to define.
He is neither a realistic or an idealistic monist. His
philosophy appears to be of the most pronounced dual-
istic character, but I cannot find that he distinctly admits
holding that form of doctrine. On the contrary he is
at one time (Part I, p. 163) an idealistic monist opposing
my "tridimensional realism," saying that the idealist
can "find matter only a superfluous impediment easily
argued away." In the Part III, the physical basis is
treated as existent and independent. In most of his
views the present writer fullv agrees with Dr. Mont-
gomery, but one difference is so radical as to throw
our philosophies into fundamentally different schools.
I refer to the question of the control of will over energy
(and therefore matter), which the doctor denies, and
which I affirm. I can also only look upon his hypothe-
sis of the "substratum" of personality as a pure specu-
lation in the present state of knowledge.
Having shown that my critic generously gives me
a good deal of aid and comfort, I will consider his objec-
tions in greater detail. From many interesting excur-
sions and discussions I select the following leading
points of difference. Dr. Montgomery denies (1) that
mind (consciousness) can direct the movements of mat-
ter. He denies (2), therefore, that consciousness is at the
foundation of the direction of evolution of living beings.
(3.) The "doctrine of the unspecialized" is erroneous
because development of mind is dependent on organiza-
tion, and because (a) the lowest animals are not con-
scious, and (/') protoplasm itself is not a generalized sub-
stance. That (4) a deity cannot be inferred from my
premises, but mind so conceived must be inferior in
attributes to that of the lowest animal.
1. Objection to Control of Mind over Matter.
Does mind control matter at any time and place, or
does it not? Dr. Montgomery says that it does not
because it cannot; and he undertakes to demonstrate that
he is correct by reference to the law of physics, as
follows: "In this world of ours, only matter is mova-
ble and possesses momentum. Only something which
is itself movable and in possession of momentum can
possibly impart motion to matter. Mind as such is not
movable, and does not possess momentum; therefore it
cannot move matter (g. e. </.)." This is a logical state-
ment, and as such is unobjectionable. But it does not
meet, much less controvert, my proposition, which I
must now repeat, quoting from the Origin of the Fittest,
p. 427-8. " The explanation" [of the control of mind
over matter] "can only be found in a simple acceptance
of the fact as it is, in the thesis that energy can be con-
scious. If true, this is an ultimate fact, neither more
nor less difficult to comprehend than the nature of
energy or matter in their ultimate analysis." In this
thesis is involved the realistic doctrine that mind is a
THE OPEN COURT.
2S7
property of some kind of matter, as odor and color are
properties of the rose. It asserts also that mind is a
property of matter in energetic action, or in other words
that mind is a property of some kind of energy. I
await with interest a disproval of these positions. If
admitted, mind is a property of something which pos-
sesses momentum, and is also a property of some kind
of motion. As these are the conditions essential to the
communication of motion to other matter, mind can
control matter (g. e. d.).
Of course the question that lies below my thesis
may now be raised by Dr. Montgomery, so I will raise
it for him. Is it "the fact as it is," that "energy can
be conscious?" Since consciousness is a property, and
not a substance, there is no logical impossibility in the
statement. But is it the fact? for to fact wc must
appeal, and on fact we stand. That energy is necessary
to consciousness no physiologist can deny. Stop the
material basis of energy and consciousness is lost. But
my critic and myself are agreed that consciousness
is not per se a form of energy. There is then no alter-
native, since consciousness exists, but to regard it as a
property of some kind of energy. To the kind of
realist who does not regard consciousness as a form
of energy identical in qualities with other forms
of energy, the language I have used is the only
available expression of what he believes to be the fact.
It is not a mere question of words. It is self-evident
that mind is not matter — (or " substance") since it has
no extension. It is also self-evident that beside matter
and its properties nothing exists. Therefore mind is a
property of matter, as color and sound (forms of energy)
are properties of matter, although it forms (using it as
synonomous with consciousness in the physiological
sense) a distinct class or type of property. It is more
exact to speak of it as a property of energy, that is, a
property of a property of some matter. It seems to me
that a person who cannot admit that mind, like energy,
is a property of matter does not exercise what Newton
called "a competent faculty of thinking."
In accordance with Dr. Montgomery's argument it
is easy to prove that energy does not move matter.
From a metaphysical standpoint energy is a concept
as distinct from matter as is consciousness. Assume
that energy is not a property of matter, and apply
the formula above quoted, substituting the word
energy for mind. " In this world of ours only matter
is movable and possesses momentum. Only something
which is itself movable and in possession of momentum
can possibly impart motion to matter. Energy, as such,
* * * does not possess momentum; therefore it can-
not move matter."
The supposed logical difficulty of the doctrine of the
control of matter by mind is further expressed as follows
(Criticism, Part III): "Every biologist who introduces
into this unbending mechanical nexus any kind of
deviating or directing influence ought clearly to know
that he is opposing the doctrine of the conservation of
energy. Wittingly or unwittingly he is professing him-
self an unbeliever in this supreme generalization of mod-
ern science." We reach here the point of simple asser-
tion or denial of matter of fact. Logical as the above
proposition appears to be, it is equally applicable as a
negation of the most undeniable facts. Why is not any
and every effect of matter on mind an equally impossi
ble violation of the principle of the conservation of
energy? If energy derived from material bases perturbs
the current of mental phenomena, that energy must be,
according to Dr. Montgomery's view, irrecoverably lost;
it passes out of the domain of physical basis, to which it
cannot ever return. Therefore matter and its energy
can no more control mind than mind can control matter.
Does my critic insist on the former proposition as he
does on the latter? Consistency requires him to believe
that matter (energy) cannot control mind, and therefore
this is what I infer his belief to be. The only way out
of the dilemma is to recognize that mind is a prop-
erty of some matter; that it gives character to that
matter, and that the energy of matter reciprocally
gives character to it. This granted, energy need not
be supposed to be either created or lost. Five pounds is
five founds, -whether raised by the right hand or by the
left, and the will expends no more energy in doing the
one than in doing the other.
One more logical difficulty is raised by my critic, and
it is a very natural one. We read, " Now, as hinted
before, it is quite obvious that if memory or mental
reproduction depends on specifically organized structure,
— a state of things generally accepted as a fact by evolu-
tionists,— then specifically organized structure cannot
reciprocally depend on memory or mental reproduction.
This would be out of the question, even if mental states
were capable of influencing the physical nexus. A cer-
tain something cannot possibly be at one time the pro-
duced effect of something else and at another time its pro-
ducing cause. The relation cannot be reversed." Inas-
much as the process of education of men and animals is,
by implication, denied in this paragraph, let us see
whether there is not something wrong about it. The
difficulty with it is that the fact of mental digestion, or
organization of the sense-perceptions, is omitted. Expe-
rience accumulates sense-perceptions which are arranged
in revived consciousness in various orders of likeness and
unlikeness. It is a fundamental quality of memory
to be "aware" of like things at the same time, and of
unlike things at different times. Out of these classifica-
tions come the appreciation of cause and effect, and out
of this appreciation come designed or appropriate acts.
Out of acts (motions) come structure ; and structure comes
out of every stage of the activity from its beginning,
28S
THE OPEN COURT.
as well as from its ending. Up to the moment that
the motion enters the control of will, matter and
non-living energy are in command ; so soon as it reaches,
and after it leaves the dwelling-place of will, mind is in
command. And the ultimate result is new motions,
which bring us new sensations, new classifications, new
will-directions, and new motions again. So mind and
matter pursue their eternal interaction. Simple matter
produces simple consciousness. Consciousness compli-
cates itself by means of memory, and in the act turns on
its physical basis and complicates it. I take it that these
are the facts, and logic must use them, since they are
incontestible.
I add, in conclusion of this part of the discussion,
that I do not adopt the opinion that mind can control
matter a priori, hut a posteriori, as an inference from
the observation of innumerable facts. In our daily
experience we observe that it is mind that adapts matter
to itself and itself to matter, and not matter that adapts
itself to mind. Mind is the more variable element of
the two, and the modifications it produces are intelligent,
which is not the property of non-living matter.
2. Objection to Direction of Evolution by Mind.
The position that consciousness and will are proper-
ties of matter is reenforced from all departments of
psycho-physiology. What can be more convincing in
this direction than the phenomena of memory? But
equally satisfactory evidence is seen in the formation of
habits, or modes of animal motion. These betray a
mechanical structure of the physical basis, which could
only originate under conscious conditions. Such an
arranging of matter is an exhibition of energy; and that
energy that wrought such special structure from pre-
existent structure, or no structure, did so for reasons. It
exhibited that admirable property which Dr. Mont-
gomery well defines as an "inner-awareness of what
takes place independently of it." But his views do not
permit him "to insinuate mental effectuation into the
physical nexus (p. 163). He tells us that "mind as
such" * * * "cannot alter a jot the path of material
particles * * * This means according to our present
scientific conception, that it (the path of particles) is abso-
lutely predetermined by the previous physical disposition
of the molecules and their motion." This is a denial of
the fundamental law of evolution, that structure is mod-
ified or produced by use. That evolution builds on
foundations already laid is, of course, true, but that "the
motion of particles is absolutely predetermined by
the previous physical disposition of the molecules and
their motion" is in contradiction of the logic of pro-
gressive evolution. There can be now no kind of
doubt that use has produced structure in animals by
additions to and changes in " the previous physical dis-
position of the molecules and their motion," during the
ages of geological time. Use is a form of motion, and
motion is directed by consciousness in the form called
will. Therefore, " mind as such" has " altered the path
of material particles," and has produced new organic
structures out of them, however incredible it may
appear to my amiable reviewer. This is a statement of
an apparent fact of the history of life and mind on the
earth, and it will require some further evidence to con-
vince me that the appearance is deceptive than the
statement that it is impossible. The advancing devel-
opment of brain throughout the ages, is not the least
important part of the evidence that the mind, conscious
and unconscious, has been concerned in this evolution.
I believe that in past ages as now, use developed the
mechanism and size of the brain, and that it followed
inevitably, then as now, that the most intelligent ani-
mals provided better against the vicissitudes of life than
the less intelligent, and that they thus survived. That
this is true is indicated by the history of the ancestors of
man. Without the weapons of offense or defense, or
the mechanism for speed or concealment possessed by
the animals of other lines, they survived, and lo! they
now inherit the earth!
(to be concluded.)
A NOTABLE PICTURE.
BY RAYMOND S. PERRIN.
Any one who has been in the National Gallery in
London, will doubtless recollect the painting of "The
Trinity," by Pesello, 1422. If the person who sees this
painting for the first time has thought much about God,
it will make a very deep impression on him — an
impression which will be pleasant or unpleasant, accord-
ing to the conception of deity the beholder has formed.
God, in this picture, is presented in a sitting posture
holding in his extended hands the bar of the cross upon
which Jesus is nailed. Four centuries have not dimmed
the crimson of the blood that trickles from the wounds,
nor the deathly pallor of the skin, nor the wonderful life
in death of the sufferer's face. The Holy Ghost, in the
form of a dove, rests upon the bosom of the father and
watches the son without any sign of consciousness of the
terrible tragedy. A crimson devil and many angels, in the
form of birds with human faces, hover about the cross.
God wears a hat resembling somewhat that of the Pope
of Rome. His face bespeaks a man simply intent on
his purpose. It betrays no pity or other emotion. The
artist seems to have been content with the single trait of
firmness in repose. Not even thoughtfulness or intelli-
gence is attempted. The garb and attitude are those of
a ruler. All the attributes of despotism are suggested.
Jesus wears his customary expression of resignation to
torture. He looks neither suppliant nor reproachful, nor
even tender. The artist attempts nothing but patience
and pain. The Holy Ghost, as above intimated, is dis-
appointing, that is to one reared in the reverence of
Christian spirituality. We generally think of ghost as
the: open court.
289
meaning spirit, and of spirit as meaning mind; whereas,
this dove does not suggest any inspiration whatever.
It is a strain upon the imagination to look upon it.
It is entirely out of place, for there is nothing in
dove-like feelings known to us which can be woven into
the relationship here depicted between father and son.
The devil and the angels are zoological inceptions of
great originality. But has not the independence of
morphological sequence displayed in these singularly
constructed beings a manifest connection with the disre-
gard of moral sequence displayed in the whole picture?
Surely the scheme of human salvation as here por-
trayed is not a moral one. There are many things
which can be said in favor of the love of God for
humanity — a love equal to the sacrifice of his son — but
it seems evident that the son is not duly considered. In
all moral relations, as far as we know, human beings
constitute the terms. It may be perfectly moral for
Gods to sacrifice one another, but humans are only able,
in justice, to sacrifice themselves. Our sacrifices must
be personal to have any merit. We may advise one
another to be self-sacrificing, but the moment we
employ force in the matter the relation becomes one of
injury and must be judged accordingly. If God only
advised Jesus to sacrifice himself, the artist has been
singularly unfortunate in presenting the relations of his
subjects; for force, unrelenting force, is the one motive
which the attitude of God in this picture expresses. Of
course Christianity cannot be held responsible for the
artist's conception.
In this figure of theological belief there are, no
doubt, possibilities which it would be rash even to con-
sider. The persons presented are Gods, not men, and
how are we to judge the conduct of Gods? All we
can do is to determine whether it would be right for a
human father to force his son to sacrifice himself for
others? We think the proposition is a contradition in
terms. It is impossible to force any one, perhaps even
a God, to sacrifice himself. We must change the
wording in order to make the question rational. Is it
right for one of us to injure another in behalf of some
one else? Here is a very simple problem in conduct.
The laws of every civilized people are entirely made
up of provisions against such a contingency — such an
infringement of personal liberty. None of us have a
right to determine to what extent we may injure
another, no matter what our ultimate aim may be. We
have no right, as individuals, to injure any one under
any circumstances. Speaking for men, this is the old
basis of law and morality. As to Gods, that is another
thing. Injuries among Gods is a question fraught
with insuperable difficulties, for the relations of divine
beings, as far as they have been disclosed to us, seem to
involve more or less injury to one another. All that
we can safely say concerning the conduct of God is,
that divine sacrifice is always self-sacrifice. When it is
transferred from one divine being to another, it becomes
of necessity injury, pure and simple.
If we could only discover to what extent Gods may
injure one another, without infringing upon justice, we
would indeed be wise. Such wisdom might remove a
great deal of unhappiness, not to say misery, from the
world.
But we must not be too sanguine. The relations of
Gods among themselves will ever be a mystery to us, for
we have no knowledge of the terms of the relationship,
and there is no hope of obtaining such a knowledge. All
we can hope for is to distinguish between divine self-
sacrifice and divine beings sacrificing one another, or
more correctly speaking injuring one another. This
distinction, I think, we can clearly make out even with
human eyes. Of course, from our standpoint, there is
much to be said in favor of that delicacy which discour-
ages investigation into the subject. To measure the
injuries which divine beings may inflict upon one
another for our exclusive benefit does seem somewhat
obtrusive on our part. The injury, in the opinion of
many, is not only useless but would be ungracious and
profane.
What a power is art to produce so many impres-
sions and reflections as this picture of the Trinity must,
in those who pass before it. Coming down from a
distant age it portrays the beliefs of the past. How
thankful we may be that we have at last risen above
the level of thought and feeling which the artist and
his contemporaries occupied. Who, in our age, would
think of preaching the religion, or of teaching the
morality set forth in this picture? Who would think
it possible, now that our emotions are classified and
measured and their sources understood, to hesitate
before such a simple moral question as whether it is
right to injure another in order to carry out our ideas of
good ?
In thus felicitating ourselves, however, it would be
well to remember that though the barbarous notions of
conduct which this picture presents are safely buried in
the past, we are not, as yet, entirely exempt, as a nation,
from the tendency to materialize or limit our notions of
deity. God to us, it is true, is no longer a person, for
the sciences have taught us that personality means limi-
tation, and that, therefore, God must be the universal
principle or fact, not an individual. But we are con-
tinually neglecting this generalization, placing in its
stead images of conduct. Is it not humiliating to us,
that these images are not as we supposed symbols of
virtue, but types of error, immoral examples?
God is the motive of the universe, and knowledge
of God consists in our appreciation of divine or general
motives in their true proportions. This is simply to
raise the mind above the limits of human character, of
a
2CP
THE OPEN COURT.
which theology is merely a reproduction in grotesque
form, to the empire of universal cause and effect. To
do this we must become truly spiritual. We must
exchange for a true knowledge of life our dreams of
immortality. We must make conduct the measure of
life as well as of happiness, for in our actions alone
we live. This will prevent us from putting our faith
in beings, or the representatives of beings, who are
known to us only through the contradictions and
absurdities of their conduct.
A MODERN MYSTERY-PLAY.
BY M. C. O'BVRNE.
In Wright's Essays on Archeology the curious
reader will discover some amusing examples of the
gross anthropomorphism of the Christians of the mid-
dle ages. Nowhere were religious conceptions coarser
or more grotesque than in England and the Lowdands
of Scotland, among those whom Dr. Robert Knox
terms the "spatula-fingered" Anglo-Saxons, — perhaps
the most unabstract of European peoples. Of course
Mr. Herbert Spencer, while "binding the universe up
into bundles," — as poor Carlyle said of Comte, — has
not omitted to notice these gross medireval conceptions.
By education, no less than by temperament, Mr.
Spencer is unable to recognize that the apparent incon-
gruities "between religious beliefs and social states," —
in the middle ages at least, — would appear perfectly
congruous to a Roman Catholic, even to its latest and
perhaps most scholarly champion, Mr. W. S.Lilly. The
mystery-plays of the dark ages, though certainly very
much grosser, were not a whit more anthropomorphic
than is the Passion-play of the Bavarian hamlet Ober-
ammergau, which crowds of refined ladies and gentle-
men, both of England and America, throng to witness
and to which columns of descriptive articles have been
devoted by the most respectable and influential London
newspapers. That the old plays were exceedingly
broad pictures, as Wright terms them, is most unques-
tionable. Nevertheless they were pictures, and at their
inception they were intended, — as Pope Gregory the
Great said of religious paintings, — to serve as idiotarum
libri, or books for the illiterate, and, doubtless, from the
Catholic standpoint, they admirably fulfilled the func-
tion for which they were designed.
The methods pursued bv the Salvation Army are
lii ise by which Christianity was quickened immediately
after the crucifixion and disappearance of its protagonist,
the enthusiastic Galilean. I have studied those methods
at the old headquarters of the Array in Whitechapel,
London, where I have been enabled to realize the
immense effect produced on the popular mind of Eng-
land by that Antinomianism which was the moving
doctrine of the reformation. Side by side with this
outbreak of fanaticism, however, another, — and I think a
much more praiseworthy, — movement was being con-
ducted in a contiguous district of the teeming East End
of the great city. Old Gravel Lane runs across the
London dock, and connects Ratcliff Highway, — now
more genteelly called St. George's East, — with High
street, Wapping. I need hardly add that all these are
historic j}laces, grim and forbidding though they now
are. Though shorn of its ancient pre-eminence by the
removal of the larger portion of the shipping to the
newer and more eastern docks, this region is still sacred
to sailors, crimps, dance-houses, liquor saloons and
brothels, — a terra incognita to the respectable citizens
of the great metropolis. The wretched courts, alleys
and by-ways that spread from it on either side are
inhabited by laborers and their families, nearly all of
whom are of Milesian extraction and who constitute the
most numerous portion of the Irish colony in London.
I, myself, have often heard the original language of
Connemara spoken in this district, and I still remember an
evening spent in Ratcliff, when I listened with as much
delight as Borrow, the "Romany Rye," to wild legends
of Fingal, Grace O'Malley and Brian Boroimhe, sound-
ing strangely out of place in this Gehenna of squalor,
misery and vice. The men earn a precarious and wretched
subsistence by their chance employments in the docks.
Every morning the gates are opened, while an official
"takes on" the number of laborers deemed necessary
for the day, either in the wine vaults, on the warehouse
floors, or on the quays. Each man receives a metal
ticket, with the hour of his entry stamped on it, and his
name is entered in the " taking-on book" opposite the
number of his ticket. The feverish impatience and
anxiety of the crowds who linger near the gates are
generally very painful to witness, and very few of these
administrators to the wealth of this overgrown metrop-
olis average more than three days a week of regular
employment throughout the year. The young women
and girls are employed in sack making at their own
" homes," and at any time scores of girls, having forms
that a duchess might envy, may be met on the streets
with heavy piles of rough sacks on their heads. Being
only " London Irish," of course no artist has gone out of
his way to paint them. They are by far too vulgar for
the gallery of the aristocrat or the merchant prince,
whose costly canvases have more than enough of Italian
and oriental women with water-pots and vases on their
heads and shoulders.
Vulgar and vicious as this district is, it was, never-
theless, the region selected to labor in by the most self-
devoted priest that has ever adorned and honored the
Church of England since the death of George Herbert.
" Man is born to be a doer of good," wrote the Emperor
Marcus Antoninus, — a maxim which did not govern his
own conduct with respect to the rising sect of Christians.
THE OPEN COURT.
291
Let us, whatever we may think of its doctrines, honor-
ahlv and gladly acknowledge that Christianity has from
its inception inspired and stimulated a refined and ele-
vated altruism. The self-sacrifice of such men as Her-
bert, Mompesson and Lowder reflects honor on human-
ity none the less because their noble exertions were in a
great degree prompted by their religious convictions.
"St. Peter's, London Docks," is situated in Old Gravel
Lane. It was for many years the church of the Rev.
Charles Lowder, — " Father Lowder," as he was called
by his affectionate parishioners. Defying alike the
prejudices of his co-religionists and the hostility of the
people among whom he volunteered to labor, — these
being nearly all, at least in name, Roman Catholics, —
Father Lowder openly put in practice the highest ritual
allowed him by the law, caring, indeed, little or nothing
for judicial committees or for any secular court or ordi-
nance appointed by the State to restrain High Church-
men from excess of zeal. My pen almost shrinks from
the attempt to describe the nauseous impurity and bestial-
ity of the denizens of these riverside purlieus. Morn-
ing, noon and night the mind of this educated and refined
gentleman must have been shocked by his surroundings,
the very children playing in the gutters using all uncon-
sciously the vilest language of the brothel. Throwing
aside fastidiousness, this grand humanitarian devoted
himself to the reclamation of the district. Corpus
Christi and other processions wended their way, under
his guidance, down the Lane, into Wapping, and along
the courtesan-haunted Highway, while the services inside
the church were of the very "highest" order possible.
For a long time the people did little but scoff at the
zealous priest, now and then, however, manifesting, in a
way that called for the interference of the police, that
they were Roman, not Anglican, Catholics. Gradually,
however, as it was found that Lowder's religion was a
practical one, embracing works of mercy, kindness and
charity; when it was seen that willing hands were
extended to rescue the fallen, and that agencies were
established to promote the welfare of the poor, to
encourage temperance and thrift, and that St. Peter's
was truly a " light shining in a dark place," the demeanor
of the "natives" was changed. Then it was, too, that
the Roman Church, which claimed the allegiance of
these outcasts, awoke to the recognition of the fact that
Ratcliff and Wapping were not in Tasmania or at the
north pole, but at its own door. Henceforth a little of
the attention that had been confined to netting big fishes
among the aristocracy was bestowed on East London,
and Henry Edward, of Westminster, appears to have
found the locality on a map, and, having found, made a
note of it.
St. Peter's and its various agencies, — including even
a dining and coffee-house for laborers, — has thriven
wondrously. Except in the Hall of Science, Old Street,
the headquarters of the Secularists, there is no other
example of the rapid growth of a congregation com-
posed mainly of the laboring classes. "Father"
Lowder died, — I think about four years ago, — but the
work still continues vigorously as when he was alive to
conduct it, his example having encouraged others to
follow in his footsteps. Unlike the Salvationists, whose
frenzied appeals to avoid "the wrath to come," and
lurid pictures of hell-fire temporarily excite the igno-
rant mind only to provoke a terrible reaction in the
direction of sensual indulgence and profound debauch-
ery, the Ritualists of East London have worked
entirely on what I may term pre-Reformation lines.
Among other things they have had recourse to as means
of instruction, is a modification of the passion-plays.
Unlike the peasants of Oberammergau, the authorities
at St. Peter's are mindful of the Horatian advice not to
"introduce on the stage things that ought to be enacted
[i.e. supposed to be enacted] behind the scenes." Of
course this circumspection is a concession to modern
progress, and it indicates, as Mr. Spencer would say, the
ever-increasing incongruity between religious beliefs and
an improved social state that the conception of the Virgin
Mary or the crucifixion of her son would not now. be
made the subject of a tableau either on a public or
private platform in England.
From notes made at the time, I am able to describe
one of these revivals of the mystery-play. The author,
or more properly the composer, was the Rev. Charles
Lowder himself, and, of course, his main object was to
enable his congregation more vividly to realize the
salient events connected with the incarnation and early
life upon earth of " the Son of God." The play opened
by the Choragus ("the master of plays") and chorus,
consisting of twelve ladies attired in loose white dresses,
six of which were ornamented with blue and six with
pink trimmings. These recited the prologue, after
which the curtain was drawn and a tableau representing
"the Annunciation" appeared. This was followed by
the " Nativity," the "Adoration of the Shepherds," the
"Presentation in the Temple," the " Flight into Egypt,"
etc. By far the most effective tableau was that of the
simple house and work-shop of the carpenter Joseph,
showing Mary carding flax, the child Jesus with a
broom in hand, and Joseph himself at a rude work-
bench. Quite as reverently as though engaged in reg-
ular worship the chorus sang a hymn, from which I
cull the following verses:
"Sons of Adam, sons of sorrow,
Would ye wis who is this
Laboring at Nazareth?
"Very God, the angels call him,
And adore, evermore,
Bending low before him.
292
THE OPEN COURT.
"Very man, yet now behold him,
Mary's child, meek and mild,
Called the Son of Joseph.
"Know'st thou what it is to hunger,
Barely fed with daily bread? —
Jesus, too, did hunger!
"Know'st thou what it is to labor,
Toiling on till youth is gone? —
All his life he labored!
"Is thy labor very lowly?
Brother, see, at Nazareth he
Swept the floor for Mary.
* * * *
"Man! whate'er thy lot and station,
Rich and glad, or poor and sad,
God was Man at Nazareth!"
The reader will, I think, agree with me that there
was nothing ridiculous or what the most rigid Evangel-
ical Christian would regard as profane in this gospel-
play. Doubtless it was conceived, as it was most cer-
tainly represented, in a spirit of religious reverence. In
this respect it presented a marked contrast no less to the
ribaldry of the Salvation Army than to the coarse buf-
foonery of the mediaeval passion-plays. The object
aimed at was to bring the doctrine of the Incarnation
before the people in a manner best calculated to perma-
nently impress them with its significance. The old
Romanist method, on the contrary, tended to bring
religion into contempt, and thus, in some measure, it
prepared the way for the great Protestant revolt. What,
for instance, could be more absurdly ridiculous than the
Festival of the Ass, formerly celebrated at Beauvais?
In commemoration of the patient animal upon which
Joseph and Mary were presumed to have fled into
Egypt, the people of Beauvais used once a year to capar-
ison a donkey in cloth of gold, and place upon its back
a richly-dressed maiden, to represent the Virgin Mary.
A long procession of priests and people conducted these
from the cathedral to the parish church of St. Stephen.
Girl and donkey were placed near the altar, and during
the celebration of high mass the well-trained animal was
compelled to kneel at the most solemn parts of the
"sacrifice." Du Cange (Book III, pp. 426, 427) has pre-
served the hymn, with its French chorus, which some
not-too-faithful an interpreter has rendered into English,
some specimen stanzas being as follows:
"The ass comes hither from Eastern climes;
Heigh-ho, Sir Donkey !
He is handsome and lit for his load at all times.
Sing, Father An-, and you shall have grass,
And straw, too, and hay in plenty.
"The ass is slow and lazy too;
Heigh-ho, Sir Donkey!
But the whip and the spur will make him go.
Sing, Father Ass, and you shall have grass,
And straw, too, and hay in plenty.
"The ass was born with stiff long ears;
Heigh-ho, Sir Donkey!
And yet he the lord of asses appears.
Sing, Father Ass, and you shall have grass,
And straw, too, and hay in plenty.
"At a leap the ass excels the hind;
Heigh-ho, Sir Donkey!
And he leaves the goat and the camel behind.
Bray, Father Ass, and you shall have grass,
And straw, too, and hay in plenty."
"The worship," writes the Rev. H. Christmas*
" concluded with a mutual braying between the clergy
and laity in honor of the ass. The officiating priest
turned to the people, and in a fine treble voice, and with
great devotion, brayed three times like an ass, whose
fair representative he was; while the people, imitating
his example in thanking God, brayed three times in
concert."
This was truly an edifying act of worship, and one
which Pope Leo XIII might do well to re-establish as
a sort of complement to the dogma of papal infallibility,
by voting for which on the iSth of July, 1S70, five
hundred and thirty-three Catholic bishops brayed in
accordance with the papal mandate.
In England the so-called Catholic revival, — not the
Roman Catholic be it noted, — is extending itself down-
ward as well as upward. How far miracle-plays will
help to recover the masses I cannot state, but it is note-
worthy that the national church is sparing no effort both
to ameliorate the physical condition of the people, to
improve their morals, and to counteract the rapid growth
of skepticism. It has one association, — the Guild of
St. Matthew, — specially designed to confront the Secu-
larists, and which endeavors to meet them rationally and
admits them to its platforms in fair and open argument.
In so doing it has, I believe, challenged and obtained
the respect of Mr. Bradlaugh, who desires nothing bet-
ter than that the conflict between Secularism and
Christianity shall be conducted more generously and
courteously then in the old time of vituperation and
abuse.
FAILURE OF THE RADICAL METHOD.
BY REV.JCLIUS H. WARD.
The recent convention of the Free Religionists, in
Boston, representing, as it does, the dregs of the great
reform era in New England, furnishes a curious illustra-
tion of the change which has been slowly creeping over
American life since the close of the civil war. This
association of radical people was organized twenty years
ago in order to bring the protesters against conservative
religious life together. It succeeded in this, and num-
bered its members in all parts of the country, but found
them chiefly in New England. Since then it has fur-
nished yearly, if not oftener, a free platform for the
* Shores and Islands of the Mediterranean, Vol. I.
THE OPEN COURT.
-<>.$
expression of opinion on current religious and social
questions, and has proved to be a clearing-house for ideas
which found little favor in the press or in the churches.
It has been its special aim to be a voice in the wilder-
ness, not to be an element of organized life in the com-
munity. It has held the seat of critical judgment, but
has done little to forward either needed reforms or the
helpful operations of civilized life. Meanwhile, there
has been a gradual change in the way of looking at
society and in the method by which social results are
reached. The old method of agitation has been replaced
by a broader view of life and of the relations which men
bear to one another in the advancement of the world.
The agitator has been found to lie simply an individual.
He is nothing more than a unit. He carries no more
influence than the strength of his utterance or of his
will. He is powerless in present society unless he can
organize others to work with him. The demand to-day,
if any great end is to be reached, is that a few persons
shall associate to further an object, and that its method
shall be one that is in accord with the institutional order.
It is not simply a question of individual rights, but the
moving of the community as a whole to think as you
do. Once it was an emphatic protest, and the voice in
one wilderness resounded to the voice in another; now
it is the union of men and women together for the fur-
therance of a common object.
The Free Religious Association is a notable illustra-
tion of the working of this principle in American society.
It began as a protest; it was an association of the Puri-
tans of the Puritans; it struck the ax unsparingly at the
root of the tree ; it believed that the denunciation of what it
did not approve was all that was required. The time
has come when this negative position is no longer profit-
able. Mr. O. B. Frothingham attempted to maintain
this position in a congregation in New York and found
it an impossible task; Professor Felix Adler has only
succeeded in doing this by connecting it with an organ-
ized system of philanthrophy. The organ of this move-
ment has now been merged in a broader journal which
has its own way of expressing the affirmative positions
of the Association. The center of the Free Religious
movement in Boston, which was to have been in the
support of Theodore Parker's society, has long since
disappeared, and nothing but the unsightly building,
which is now his empty memorial, remains to suggest
to the passer-by that Free Religion in Boston once had
a local habitation as well as a name. This has been
partly due to the negative positions which this company
of people assumed. It is due still more to the change
in the life of society, so far as men have purposes in
hand by which it may be redeemed. This was openly
confessed by Rev. W. J. Potter, the president of the
association, at its recent convention in Boston, when he
openly laid before its members a scheme of associated
secular, scientific and religious work, by which its life
might be revived and its usefulness made evident to the
world. This plan is similar in its method, if not in its
scope, to that of the Social Science Association, ami it
is the expression of that rational interest in humanity at
large which the Free Religionists have assumed to
have at heart. What will come of the scheme remains
to be seen; it has not apparently been received by the
rank and file with that cordiality which should ensure
its practical success, but it seem to be the only channel
by which the Free Religionists as a body can put them-
selves en rapport with the moral and religious forces
which now control the better elements in American
society. It would appear that even the come-outers
from organized religion are compelled to fall into lines
of sympathy and union with the institutional order from
which they have heretofore most vigorously dissented.
COMPETITION IN TRADES.
BY WHEELBARROW.
A short time ago the president of the Federa-
tion of Trades Unions testified before the Senate
Committee on Labor. I see by the papers that he
proposed as a remedy for the alleged wrongs of jour-
neymen mechanics, that the convicts in penitentiaries,
instead of working at trades within the walls, be taken
out and worked upon the public roads. On behalf of
the "knights" of the shovel and wheelbarrow I protest
against this plan. What right has the Federation of
Trades Unions to dump — I use a term suggested by my
profession — what right has that federation to dump the
whole convict " brotherhood " upon us ? What right has
the president of it to make his class an order of nobility
to flaunt their airs of eminence in the faces of us who
labor in a lower calling, who have not reached the rank
of mechanics, but who must content ourselves with the
honorable but yet inferior designation, "laborers"?
The president of the Federation and his order get
higher wages than we laborers get; they can better
afford to stand the competition of the convicts than we
can. We who "work upon the roads" have just as
much right to protection against convict picks and shov-
els as the president of the Federation has to protection
against convict chisels, awls or jack-planes. Will he
give us some good reason why convicts should be per-
mitted to compete with some kinds of labor and not
with others? Are we to have an aristocracy of trades?
I never had time to studv the principles of political
economy, and I know nothing about the laws of social
science, but the facts of both have fallen upon me heavy
as a hammer, and upon the stern logic of those facts I
built my own ethics of labor in those delightful moments
when, having dumped the load, I leisurely trolled my
wheelbarrow behind me down the plank to the hole in
the ground where it had to be filled again. Sixteen
2 94
THE OPEN COURT.
hours a day of hard work is bad schooling for a boy of
thirteen. In the bright days of childhood, when the
mind and body should grow into strength and beauty,
mine were being stunted and warped by toil savage and
unnatural. I ought to be five feet ten; that's my correct
stature by rights; I am less than five feet six. Toil
stunted me when I was in the gristle. I had no time to
study books, and the principles of life that I learned,
such as thev were, I had to gather in the college of hard
knocks.
After all, a man can think with considerable clear-
ness walking down a plank with an empty barrow
behind him, and I have worked out hundreds of labor
problems while " walking the plank" in that way. Some
of my solutions I afterward threw away as incorrect,
and others I cling to still. The open air is a good place
for mental work ; a clear atmosphere makes clear
thought, while the inspiration of a few big draughts of
t into a good pair of lungs quickens the mind. You
don't get your full ration of oxygen in the house; out of
doors you do, and that is a wholesome stimulant better
than wine. You can unlearn a great many things, too,
in the open air, and one of the useful arts is that of
unlearning. I have unlearned manv of my theories
about labor, and some of my doctrines I have been com-
pelled not only to change but to reverse. The effect of
labor competition upon the welfare of workingmen
appears to me now in a different light than it formerly
did, and I am satisfied that we must reverse our
ancient opinion that it is desirable to produce a scarcity
of men, a scarcity of skill, and a scarcity of production.
So long as we cling to those old superstitions we can
never successfully assert the dignity of labor.
Already they have reduced labor to a mendicant con-
dition. It begs for favors where it ought to compel
rights. The beggarly petition " a fair day's wages for
a fair day's work," is unworthy of straight-built, square-
cut men. Let us shape the laws of this land — social and
political — so that we may obtain a reward for our labor
equal to its full value. We are leveling wages to the
grade of alms, and our masters pay it to us like the dole
of charity. If we take a narrow view of human life
our share of life's comforts will be narrow and mean.
We must expand the horizon of man, and not contract
it. What can be more degrading to labor than the
assumption of the Federation that the hosts of working-
men in Illinois cannot stand the competition of a couple
of thousand prisoners bungling at the tasks imposed on
them for punishment? The welfare of the working-
men can never consist in the scarcity either of talent or
goods, but always in the abundance of both.
Men like the president of the Federation fight the
beneficent law of mutual assistance under the impression
that they are fighting competition by limiting human
skill. So they foolishly resolve that all handicraft shall
be a monopoly ; they put " mechanics " back again among
the black arts, and forbid the teaching of trades. Not
only would they set convicts to "working on the roads,"
but all the children of the poor. I have four sons, all
free-born Americans, so-called, and all .now grown to
manhood. I tried to give them trades, as they respect-
ively reached the proper age, but in every instance I was
forbidden to do so by the laws of the trades. All four
of them are now men, but not one of them was per-
mitted to learn a trade in the land where they were born
and which they have been taught to call a land of free-
dom. The oldest got a job as fireman on the railroad,
and after a few years managed to steal the trade of an
engineer; the next drifted off to that undefinable country
known as " the mountains," and there he is wasting
away his life digging holes in the ground searching for
silver and gold. The next picked up a book and taught
himself the shorthand trade; he gets twice as much
wages as I ever got with my wheelbarrow and shovel;
the youngest gets a dollar a day in a store in the hum-
blest capacity, but hopes to work up in time to the
grade of a clerk. That all four of them didn't become
hoodlums and tramps is not the fault of the unions. A
man with a heart in him, even if he has no brains at all,
must see in a moment that the policy which robbed
those boys of their right to learn a trade cannot be right,
and not being right it cannot be either economical or
wise.
One evening I was talking to that shorthand writer
about the strike of the telegraph operators, supposing
that he would probably take a deep interest in the sub-
ject, but he cared little about it. " I hope the operators
will win," he said, " but I am not anxious either way.
It's a choice of monopolies, and I side with the weaker.
The companies monopolize the profits of telegraphing,
the operators monopolize the art. They forbid one
another to teach the trade, and if their monopoly is
beaten by the other it will be no more than the big pike
swallowing the little one."
I look at it that way myself, and it appears to me
that if the policy of shutting up one trade in order to
prevent competition is good for that, it must be good for
every other calling or profession, and all the trades and
occupations being closed, the people outside must be
either rich, or tramps, or thieves. The trades having
shut everybody out, have shut themselves in, and having
deprived a large pait of the community of the means of
buying anything, trade diminishes, there is less demand
for labor, and less money to pay for it, another exclu-
sion then becomes necessary, until we get back to the
wigwams, where we don't need any mechanics at all.
We might follow the principle to greater extremities
yet, until at last we grub roots or climb trees for a din-
ner, like that primeval ape from whom we all have
sprung. I think it is in the story of Rasselas that I read
THE OPEN COURT.
295
an account of an ambitious man who was promised by
the genii the fulfillment of one wish, whatever it might
be. He wished that he could be the only wise man
in the world, and that all other men might be fools.
The wish was granted him, and immediately afterward
the people took him and said, " this man's a fool," and
they put him in the lunatic asylum, where he remains to
this day. He was a fool, and so is every man a fool
who thinks to grow wise on his neighbor's ignorance, or
rich on his neighbor's poverty.
I object to the principle for another reason. It fos-
ters the spirit of caste among workingmen, and creates a
ragged aristocracy, the shabbiest aristocracy of all. In
a gang that I worked in once was an Irishman named
THE CREEDMAN.
BY MRS. ELIZABETH OAKES SMITH.
I do not much affect a human creed,
And yet there sometimes comes to all a need
Of voice, authoritative — stern
The straight from devious way to learn.
Ah! it were well, indeed, could we
But half those ancient Creedmen saw, but see —
Had we but half the reverential awe
By which they sought to find a binding law.
They hid themselves in caves and deserts wild,
Where God was felt a presence — man a child —
And everywhere a voice within was heard
Rung from the Heavens down — "Thus saith the Lord."
Ah! ye by sense and passion blindly led
Behold the Creedman on his rocky bed,
Weak from the sackcloth, and the stripes that bleed
Down from the brain and heart, as grows the Creed;
A needful balance to the wayward mind —
A needful check — or bondage for mankind.
And we reject it all — and feel no shame,
We, who are what we are, because the Creedman came,
And crystalized to form the mighty word,
That all the Heavens proclaim — "Thus saith the Lord."
'Fore God I bless his name, that such have been —
Forgive the blindness, and the deadly sin
Of persecuting priest, and burning stake
That taught men how to die for Truth's dear sake;
That through the darkness to Servetus spake,
And like a burning flame on Bruno broke;
And we reject — but unto such we owe
The thought that taught us how to dare — and know.
Through the dim forest and the pine tree shade
The lightning leaps — the storm a path has made —
All Nature echoes to the mighty word,
Through all her secret caves — "Thus saith the Lord:"
But most within the heart of man is heard
This grand monition of the sacred word,
"Thus saith the Lord" inscribed within,
Stern as is Duty, at approach of Sin.
Jack Patterson; an honest man was Tack, and as true a
gentleman as ever swung a pick. He had a son named
Dick, and how he managed it I don't know, but Dick
broke through the crust that excluded him from the
trades, and learned the art of a plasterer. Being now a
mechanic, he occupied a round on the social ladder one
step higher than we did who worked with a shovel and
a pick. Having attained this giddy elevation Dick re-
fused to associate any longer with his father. A friend
condoling with his mother on Dick's unfilial conduct, the
old lady replied: " Well, Dick always was a high-sper-
ited boy; sure, you couldn't expect him to associate wid
an Irish laborer." The Federation of Trades Unions
would make Dick Pattersons of us all.
THE OPEN COURT.
BY NELLY BOOTH SIMMONS.
Ah, many a Court, I know, have we,
Where men may gather and witness bear
To their faith, and tell of the wrongs that be,
And how to render the world more fair;
May seek to unravel this endless strife,
And speak, with eager yet bated breath,
Of the meanings and uses of human life,
And the strange, sad mystery of death.
But none so grand, so free as this,
Where creeds can never the light eclipse, —
No Bible held for a reverent kiss
E'er truth may be uttered by earnest lips!
Where all may come who would intervene
To crush the evil, to aid the weak,
And Reason sits, like a judge serene,
Giving her verdict on all who speak.
Ah, strength comes soonest to those who know
That doubt is the sunrise of the soul,
Who let the priest and his dogmas go,
And read from the leaves of Nature's scroll ;
Who are brave to differ, and bold to mine
'Neath the crumbling walls of the ancient church,
Till the rays of the gems of truth divine
Gleam out to guerdon the patient search.
Then never falter, or stand aloof
From the hearts that meet and mingle here
Where belief is based on a rock of proof,
And Love is the God held ever dear;
Where to all is given the right to speak,
To question, aye! and to disagree
As fellow-searchers for light on a brink
That is washed by the waves of an Unknown Sea.
Articles of great interest by several distinguished
thinkers, both European and American, who have not
yet contributed to The Open Court, will soon be
presented to our readers in these columns.
>o6
THE OPEN COURT.
The Open Court.
A. Fortnightly Journal.
Published every other Thursday at 169 to 175 La Salle Street (Nixor
Building), corner Monroe Street, by
THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY
B. F. UNDERWOOD,
Editor and Manager.
SARA A. UNDERWOOD,
Associate Editor,
The leading object of The Open Court is to continue
the work of The Index, that is, to establish religion on the
basis of Science and in connection therewith it will present the
Monistic philosophy. The founder of this journal believes this
will furnish to others what it has to him, a religion which
embraces all that is true and good in the religion that was taught
in childhood to them and him.
Editorially, Monism and Agnosticism, so variously defined,
will be treated not as antagonistic systems, but as positive and
negative aspects of the one and only rational scientific philosophy,
which, the editors hold, includes elements of truth common to
all religions, without implying either the validitv of theological
assumption, or any limitations of possible knowledge, except such
as the conditions of human thought impose.
The Open Court, while advocating morals and rational
religious thought on the firm basis of Science, will aim to substi-
tute for unquestioning credulity intelligent inquiry, for blind faith
rational religious views, for unreasoning bigotry a liberal spirit,
for sectarianism a broad and generous humanitarianism. With
this end in view, this journal will submit all opinion to the crucial
test of reason, encouraging the independent discussion by able
thinkers of the great moral, religious, social and philosophical
problems which are engaging the attention of thoughtful minds
and upon the solution of which depend largely the highest inter-
ests of mankind.
While Contributors are expected to express freely their own
views, the Editors are responsible onl3' for editorial matter.
Terms of subscription three dollars per year in advance,
postpaid to any part of the United States, and three dollars and
fifty cents to foreign countries comprised in the postal union.
All communications intended for and all business letters
relating to The Open Court should be addressed to B. F.
Underwood, P. O. Drawer F, Chicago, Illinois, to whom should
be made payable checks, postal orders and express orders.
THURSDAY, JULY 7, 1SS7.
THE CASE OF PROFESSOR EGBERT C. SMYTH.
The Boston Post says that in Andover the feeling of
indignation is intense on account of the verdict of the
Visitors in the case of Professor Egbert C. Smyth, Brown
Professor of Ecclesiastical History in the Theological
Institution in Phillips Academy, Andover, and that
strong expressions are used even by ladies, such as " das-
tardly," " persecution," " heresy hunters," " cowardice,"
etc. This feeling would seem to indicate that the creed
of Andover, as stated by the founders of that institu-
tion, is pretty thoroughly outgrown, and that a mild
form of heresy is rather necessary to the popularity of
a preacher or professor, even in an orthodox community
in New England; yet in this popular judgment there is,
as usual, a lack of discrimination and exact justice.
Complaints were made to the Visitors that Professor
Smyth was teaching doctrines contrary to the creed of
the institution and to the intent of its founders. Accord-
ing to the evidence presented it was clear, as the Visitors
reported, that Professor Smyth had taught " That the
Bible is not 'the only perfect rule of faith and practice,'
but is fallible and untrustworthy even in seme of its
religious teachings," and " That there is and will he
probation after death for all men who do not decisively
reject Christ during the earthly life."
The creed of Andover is written in language so
clear as to be unmistakable, as is the will of the men
who founded the institution, and it is difficult to see
how a fair interpretation of its letter and spirit in
connection with the admitted views and teachings of
Professor Smyth could admit of any other decision than
that rendered by the Visitors. The absurdity of the
creed and the folly of the founders in prescribing it as
a test of doctrinal soundness of all who should occupy
chairs of instruction in the seminary are evident enough,
and it is gratifying to know that now people generally
have the intelligence and liberality to see this; but the
fact remains that the verdict from an ethical point of
view is correct, and that Professor Smyth, in subscrib-
ing to the creed and coming under obligations as a pro-
fessor to teach nothing contrary to it, and then identify-
ing himself with the more advanced theology by pre-
senting the views of those who hold that the Bible is
imperfect in some of its teachings and that probation
extends beyond death, occupies a position that is incon-
sistent and morally indefensible. We cannot, therefore,
join in the indiscriminate praise of Professor Smyth,
and in condemnation of the verdict against him, how-
ever much he, in his theological views, is in advance of
those who incorporated theirs as a test and qualification
in the Andover creed. The case seems to us clearly one
in which was involved fidelity to a trust, and whatever
be the decision of the civil court to which an appeal is
to be made, we do not see that the facts and the evi-
dence left the Visitors any alternative.
PUBLIC OPINION.
Public opinion is " collective mediocrity." It finds
expression in manners, habits, usages, laws and litera-
tures, which react upon it and tend to give it compara-
tive fixedness in its elementary characteristics, in spite of
its proverbial fickleness. This complex body of thought,
like an organism in which many parts coalesce and be-
come co-ordinated in one structure, although subject to
modification in the later accretions, becomes like "the
cake of custom " hardened with age. It is not strange,
therefore, that in some of the older countries, like China,
it is hardly possible for the reformer to make so much as
a dent in public opinion, in favor of the removal of bar-
riers to progress and the introduction of the ideas and
methods of a more advanced and progressive civilization.
Even in the most enlightened communities to-day,
public opinion is the most powerful influence constantly
exerted against intellectual development and moral and
social progress. It prevents free and impartial discussion
THE OPEN COURT.
297
of unpopular views, and intimidates into silence and
conformity with prevailing beliefs and observances the
great majority of those who hold these views; thus di-
rectly discouraging independence, sincerity and consist-
ency of thought and speech, if not indeed making these
qualities the exception among those who hold decidedlv
unpopular views, and silence or acquiescence and a tem-
porizing course the general rule.
All original thought must come from individuals.
All great moral and social reforms must receive their
first impulse from the few and not from the many. Noth-
ing, therefore, is more imperatively demanded in the
interests of progress, than the freest and fullest expres-
sion of those opinions which clash with the orthodoxv
and conservatism of the day, as a counterpoise to the
tendency of an arbitrary and despotic public opinion to
make all think alike, and thus to produce " intellectual
peace at the price of intellectual death." It is not sim-
ply the right, it is the duty of those in advance of their
fellow-men to speak their honest thought, and in a way
to be understood. Loyalty to conviction and courageous
devotion to the highest conceptions of truth, regardless
of public opinion or personal interests, is a demand of the
times, both in public and private life. There is a vast
amount of truth not likelv to be popularly received for a
long time and they who defend it in spite of the pressure
of public opinion, perform a service the value <>f which
cannot be overestimated.
A state of things, as John Stuart Mill observes, in
which a large portion of" the most active and inquiring
intellects find it advisable to keep the general principles
and grounds of their convictions within their own
breasts, and attempt, in what they address to the public,
to fit as much as they can of their own conclusions to
premises which they have internally renounced, cannot
send forth the open, fearless characters and logical, con-
sistent intellects who once adorned the thinking world.
The sort of men who can be looked for under it are
either mere conformers to commonplace or time-servers
for truth, whose arguments on all great subjects are
meant for their hearers, and are not those which have
convinced themselves. Those who avoid this alternative
do so by narrowing their thoughts and interests to
things which can be spoken of without venturing within
the region of principles; that is, to small practical
matters which would come right of themselves, if but
the minds of mankind were strengthened and enlarged,
and which will never be effectually made right until
then. While that which would strengthen and enlarge
men's minds, free and daring speculation on the highest
subjects, is abandoned."
HYPNOTISM.
The study of hypnotism in Paris, by Prof. Char-
cot and his chef ' de dinique, M. Babinski, is throwing
much light upon mesmeric phenomena. A rigid
scientific investigation is being made and facts are
being brought to light that show how vast the field
for research is and how man}' medical and social
problems the study raises. The possibility of one
individual acquiring unlimited control over another
so as to be able to impose his will upon him and
make him do whatever he wishes has long been
claimed; if this can be proved modifications of
individual responsibility will necessarily follow.
That it can be proved experiments now being per-
formed at the Salpetriere hospital before a committee
appionted by the government would seem to indicate.
One of the modes of experimentation is as fol-
lows: A female patient, Mile. A., is forced into the
lethargic sleep by pressure on a suggested hypnotic
point, when by a slight friction on the forehead she
passes into the somnambulistic state. Dr. Babinski
then approaches and tells her that she must make
her will in his favor, and at once. She demurs at
first, saying that she is too young to die, etc. This
lasts a short time during which she goes on to say
that she desires to leave her property to her mother
and other relations, but after continuous persuasion
and keeping up the suggestion that it is best to give
everything to Dr. Babinski, she at last begins to
weaken and finally agrees to the proposition, enumer-
ating her possessions, which consist of about thirty
francs and some few articles of jewelry. The next
Thursday is appointed for the signing of the will.
Dr. Babinski then cautions her to say nothing about
it in the meantime, and if asked, to say that she acted
of her own free will. She is then awakened. When
the appointed day arrives it is noticed that she is
rather nervous, and says that she has something to
do but cannot recollect what it is. On being hypno-
tised, however, she remembers her promise, and
when one of the bystanders is introduced as a lawyer
she immediately draws up her will in favor of the
doctor, asserting at the same time that she is acting
with complete freedom, that she knows she has a
poor family but prefers to give everything to Dr.
Babinski. When awakened she repeats the same
story. In commenting upon the study of hypnotism,
L U/iircrs, a Parisian religious journal denounces the
new science as "dangerous to morality." Professor
Charcot has by the aid of instantaneous photography
been enabled in experimenting with the patients to
reproduce those peculiar facial expressions which
are found in certain ancient works of art portraying
the lives of saints and others who were supposed to
be "possessed," showing that these pictures were
copies from nature of hysterical men and women.
Miraculous illumination is thus explained, — hence the
wrath of L'Univers against Professor Charcot.
298
THE OPKN COURT.
CO-OPERATIVE CONGRESS IN ENGLAND.
The Co-operative News (Manchester, Eng. ) of
June 1 1 th, gives an interesting report of the Co-opera-
tive Congress held at Carlisle, Eng., the preceding
week. Sir Wilfred Lawson presided and Geo. Jacob
Ho yoake made the leading address. At the opening of
his speech Mr. Holyoake said:
" It was in the year when Her Majesty's reign began
that I first became a speaker on co-operative subjects; so
that this year, in which you accord me the distinction of
being your president, is also the half -century terminus of
whatever service I have been able to render the cause of
industrial association."
We are sorry that our limited space, which in the
press of original matter precludes lengthy quotations,
prevents our culling tempting passages from Mr. Hol-
yoake's able speech, which met with " unbounded ap-
plause " from those who heard it, and can only make
place for his definition of what co-operation really is.
" Future historians of this century," declares Mr. Hol-
yoake, " will find it difficult to name any social feature of
the great Victorian reign more original, more English,
© © O > © 7
or more beneficent, than this of co-operation, whose in-
spiration is self-dependence — whose method is economy
— whose principle is equity," which " is not an emotional
contrivance for enabling others to escape the responsi-
bility of making exertions on their own behalf, but a
manly device for giving honest men an equitable oppor-
tunity of helping themselves. * * * In these days
of State socialism it is not the interest of statesmen, or
of any who influence public affairs, to discourage the
increase of co-operators, who preach no doctrine of
industrial despair — who do not hang on the skirts of the
State — who envy no class — who counsel no war on
property — who do not believe in murder as a mode of
progress — as many do in well-to-do and educated circles,
as well as among the ignorant and miserable. Co-ope-
rators are of a different order of thinkers. They believe
that in a free country justice can be won by reason, if
the agitators will make but half the sacrifice of time,
comfort, money, liberty and life, which have to be made
by those who seek social change by civil war. Aid to
those striving to help themselves, but unable to make
way, may be gracefully given and honorably received ;
but the ambition of co-operators is to reach that condi-
tion in which they shall be under no obligation to charity,
to philanthropy, to patronage, to the capitalist or the
State, nor need the dubious aid of revolution. Their
ambition is not to be taken care of by the rich, but to
command the means of taking care of themselves. The
co-operator may not recast social life, but he may amend
it. He does not profess to destroy competition, but to
limit its mercilessness; and where co-operation is better,
to substitute it for competition."
Among the delegates to the Congress from abroad
was Mrs. Imogene C. Fales, of New York City, who
was "heard by the Congress with great admiration and
well-deserved enthusiasm."
Dr. McGlynn declares that he believes in every doc-
trine of his Church and in the supremacy of the Pope in
all spiritual matters. But he refused to recognize the
authority of Rome on political or other temporal ques-
tions; and when the Pope tells him that he must stop
advocating the theory that there can be no just owner-
ship in land, and orders him to Rome, he refuses to obey.
" I feel," he savs, " that I can do my humble share to-
ward bringing about so desirable a consummation rather
by opposing and defying the unjust encroachments of
the insatiate lust of the Roman machine for power than
by submitting to such encroachments." Certainly, Dr.
McGlynn has the courage of his convictions, and while
we fail to see the practicability or the wisdom of the
land theory which he defends, we admire the independ-
ent, manly spirit he has shown in adhering to his honest
convictions. He will probably be excommunicated.
Had he lived a few hundred years ago he would have
been burned at the stake. It is not likely that Dr.
McGlynn will continue long to retain confidence in the
rightful authority of the Pope, even in spriritual mat-
ters. Such experiences as his are more powerful than
any amount of reasoning to change the convictions
of men in regard to religious doctrines and authorities.
A little persecution or proscription sometimes serves as
a stimulus to thought and enables men to realize the ab-
surdity of claims never before questioned.
* * *
In the batch of Thackeray letters given in the July
Scridner, he mentions in one a visit to an old school or
college mate, a church of England clergyman. "I
went to see that friend of my youth whom I used to
think twenty years ago the most fascinating, accom-
plished, witty, and delightful of men. I found an old
man in a room smelling of brandy and water, * * *
quite the same man that I remember, only grown
coarser and stale, somehow like apiece of goods that has
been hanging up in a shop window. He has had fifteen
years of a vulgar wife, much solitude, very much
brandy and water, I should think, and a depressing
profession, for what can be more depressing than a long
course of hypocracy to a man of no small sense of
humor?
"It was a painful meeting. We tried to talk unre-
servedly, and as I looked at his face I remembered the
fellow I was so fond of. He asked me if I still con-
sorted with my Cambridge men ; and so I mentioned
Kinglake and one Brookfield of whom I saw a good
deal. He was surprised at this, as he heard Brookfield
was so violent a Puseyite as to be just on the point of
going to Rome. He can't walk, having paralysis in his
THE OPEN COURT.
2 99
legs, but he preaches every Sunday, he says, being
hoisted into his pulpit before service and waiting there
while his curate reads down below.
" I think he has very likely repented : he spoke of
his preaching seriously and without affectation: perhaps
he has got to be sincere at last after a long dark lonely
life."
* * *
The re-issuing of the famous Vestiges of the
Natural History of Creation in Mr. Morley's universal
library, makes one realize the enormous step that modern
biology has taken. This work, it is hardly necessary to
say, was published anonymously, but the authorship
was afterward acknowledged by Robert Chambers.
It is a popular statement of evolution fifteen years
before the Origin of Species, and is sometimes spoken
of as a very remarkable anticipation of Darwinism.
But it failed to show any proof of a motive power, and
does little to lessen the originality of Darwin's work.
Chambers is very deeply concerned in showing that his
views are not opposed to religion, and devotes much
space in this cause. Yet this book was received with a
storm of denunciation which it is difficult now to appre-
ciate. This the author bore very philosophically ; for,
as he explained, his design in not putting his name to
the book was "not only to be personally removed from
all praise or censure which it might evoke, but to write
no more on the subject." — Science.
* # #
A writer in the Boston Herald having claimed that
every person should enjoy " individual freedom of
action" as long as he does not "directly or personally
affect the happiness of others," and that persons playing
cricket on Sunday do not so affect the happiness of oth-
ers, another writer in the Beacon of that city takes
exception to this theory of personal liberty in an article
which concludes with this sentence:
And when any person would go so far as to plav cricket or
any other game on Sunday, a day that is held sacred by the peo-
ple of the highest morals, then it is that he does disregard the
best feeling in a community, and therefore should be made to
sacrifice his personal liberty, even though it does not "directly or
personally affect the happiness of others."
* # *
It is unavoidable in times like these that men who
substantially agree should dispute about terms, and that
others who differ widely in their theoretical views should
be in practical sympathy with one another; for many
who have outgrown ancestral beliefs retain a reverent
regard for the names and symbols of the past, while
others who have been unable to cast aside speculative
beliefs, the conditions of which came to them as a birth-
right and the germs of which were planted in their
minds in early youth, have, nevertheless, imbibed much
of the liberal spirit of the age. We find men with no
belief whatever in supernaturalism of any kind, who
yet insist on being classed with Christians in belief, and
others who admit the truth of large portions of the
Christian system, or who are largely influenced by its
ecclesiastical methods and dominated by its doctrinal
spirit, yet scornfully repudiate its name.
* * #
In George Macdonald's David Elginbrod is repro-
duced a Scotch epitaph which runs as follows:
Here lie I, Martin Elginbrod;
Hae mercy on my saul Lord God,
As I wad hae if 1 were God
And ye were Martin Elginbrod.
Sidewalk Stroller in the Chicago Evening Journal
writes :
A long line of carriages was standing in front of a store on
Madison street, and, as I was passing, a small black-and-tan pet
dog ran out of the store. He held up one foot and looked
bewildered for a moment, and then ran to the carriage at one
end of the procession, and smelled the hoof of the right fore foot
of one of the horses. He then went to the second carriage and
smelled the hoof of the right fore foot of one of its horses. Then
he took the next carriage, and then the next, until he had taken in
the fifth carriage, when he nimbly jumped into it, curled himself
up on the seat, and went to sleep. That was his way of finding
out which was the carriage of his mistress, who soon afterward
came out of the store, and get into the same carriage. The fact
that the horse's hoof was made of horn, and that it had been
plunged into all sorts of mire, all over the streets was nothing
to him; that particular hoof smelled differently to him from any
other horse's hoof in the world, and no other smell could be
applied to it which would efface that peculiar smell.
* * #
Says the Chicago Journal of Education :
Why are the words of one writer read from generation to
generation while another writer is forgotten soon after he is dead?
The words they used are the same. Carlyle's sentences are often
involved and inverted. His style is abrupt and sometimes execra-
ble. The same may be said of some of Emerson's essays.
Thousands of unremembered authors wrote .in far purer lan-
guage. Why will Carlvle and Emerson live? Thought is
immortal. Nothing else is. Our bodies die. Nature decays.
The world will in time become silent and dead, like the moon.
We live by thinking, not by eating. Mind is the only evidence
of life. We call it instinct that causes the mother to bend lov-
ingly over the cradle of her child, or the bee to poison its victim
behind the second cephalic ring, but it constitutes a complex
intellectual operation, the psychological character of which is
undeniably. Intelligence, instinct, reflex-action, these are the
three terms of psychology, and between these forms of activity
there is no barrier, no hiatus, no abyss.
To seek to change opinions by laws is worse than futile. It
not only fails, but it causes a reaction which leaves the opinion
stronger than ever. First alter the opinion, and then you may
alter the law. * * * However pernicious any interest or
any great body may be, beware of using force against it, unless
the progress of knowledge has previously sapped it at its base and
loosened its hold over the national mind. This has always been
the error of the most ardent reformers, who in their eagerness to
affect their purpose, let the political movement outstrip the intel-
lectual one, and thus inverting the natural order, secure misery
either to themselves or their descendants. — Buckle.
3°°
THE OPEN COURT.
COPE'S THEOLOGY OF EVOLUTION.
BY DR. EDMUND MONTGOMERY.
Part IV.
Mind, coercing matter in this special case of vital
organization, must evidently have a conscious idea of the
organizing task to be performed, and must, moreover, be
endowed with the power of actually performing it against
physical necessity. The molecules, left to themselves,
would fall into purely physical combinations; but con-
sciousness is believed to interfere and to force them into
different and designed arrangements. This favorite ex-
pedient is altogether illusive; — nothing but a glib and
evasive answer to a pre-eminently positive question.
Try for a moment to imagine preorganic consciousness —
whatever that may be — directing the course of molecules,
though wholly devoid of any organs or instruments to
get hold of them ; nay, having no possible means of even
perceiving or consciously realizing their bare existence.
It is impossible.
Our biology stands helpless in the presence of repro-
ductive organization. It stands, however, more helpless
still in the presence of productive organization. Let us
see what anti-physical and anti-organic assumptions
Professor Cope has to make, in order to secure the as-
sistance of consciousness in productive evolution. Who
, can deny that we have experience of consciousness solely
in connection with the living substance of organic indi-
viduals? To maintain that consciousness can exist in
any way independently of such a matrix, is as bold an
assertion as can well be made, requiring a strictly scien-
tific justification.
Professor Cope ventures the assertion on the strength
of the biological doctrine, that vital performances which
are at first accompanied by consciousness, tend through
frequent repetition to become .more and more automatic,
until at last the vital textures, whose functions they are,
have undergone such definite organization as to be capa-
ble of performing them without conscious assistance.
On the strength of this tenet, he concludes that the less
organized or coherent the manifesting substance hap-
pens to be, the more consciousness will it have. He
calls this strikingly original conception " the doctrine of
the unspecialized." According to it he fancies that the
constituent elements of the living substance or proto-
plasm are not firmly connected together by physical or
chemical bonds, but remain in a state of loose independ-
ence. This " unspecialized " or "undecided" state he
conceives to be a higher condition of matter than when
it has fallen into physical and chemical combinations.
" As soon as mechanical or chemical force appears in the
molecules of the sustaining substance consciousness dis-
appears." (O. of F., p. 419.) The generalized outcome
of this view leads, of course, to the conception that uni-
versal consciousness resides in " the lucid interspace of
world and world," as property of the wholly unspecial-
ised interstellar ether, " the form of matter pervading
all spaces whatever."
Professor Cope invites approbation to the following
climax of his teaching : " Is it not probable that the
grand sources of matter not yet specialized into the sixty
odd substances known to us, may still sustain the primi-
tive force not yet modified into its species, and that this
combination of states may be the condition of persistent
consciousness from which all lesser lights derive their brill-
iancy?" (O. of J7., p. 420.) We confess that the en-
deavor to derive all specialization from primordial and
general uniformity and potentiality is highly tempting.
But can we really believe that specialization into living
forms represents a degradation in worth, when in fact,
all the progress and excellence we recognize in this
world is manifestly due to high-wrought organization?
Surely, organic specialization does not mean seggrega-
tional differentiation from a pre-existent and all-contain-
ing totality. Its forms are not fragmented emanations,
become particularized through specific deterioration.
Organic specialization means, most certainly, gradual
development of genuinely primitive life, by dint of a crea-
tive elaboration of the sundry vital functions and their
underlying structures.
Professor Cope's astounding " doctrine of the unspe-
cialized " rests entirely on the supposition that the con-
consciousness of the organic individual resides in pro-
toplasm, where " mechanical or chemical force " has not
yet " appeared in the mo'ecules." He obviously believes
morphologically unorganized protoplasm to be also r/10-
lecularly unorganized. And here lies his fundamental
mistake. For, not only the gradual elaboration of pro-
toplasm, from lowest to highest forms, out of material
not derived from the unspecialized " matter pervading
all spaces," but directly from matter subject to " me-
chanical or chemical force;" — not only this gradual
chemical building up of higher protoplasm in the course
of productive evolution; but, more strikingly still, the
building up of definitely predetermined structures from
the uniform protoplasm of reproductive germs, proves
conclusively that the molecular constitution of proto-
plasm is rigorously determined or " decided." How
could of two reproductive germs consisting both of uni-
form protoplasm, the one develop into a mouse, the other
into an elephant, if this marvelously specialized differ-
ence were not strictly predetermined in the molecular
constitution of the germs? The protoplasm of many
infusoria is still in a very primitive state, quite fluent
with the exception of the surface layer. You cut such
an infusoriam into several pieces and each piece will
reconstruct the entire, definitely specialized individual.
How could this possibly occur if the molecular constitu-
tion of the protoplasm forming the entire individual were
not almost absolutely fixed? From a microscopic germ
THE OPEN COURT.
301
of seemingly uniform proptoplasm the wondrously spe-
cialized human organism is gradually developed. It is
obvious that the reproductive germ itself must be here
molecularly specialized in a supremely decided degree;
for, are not the visible morphological specializations
arising from its evolution, clearly the unfolded conse-
quence of such molecular specializations? And, as re-
gards the peculiar substance with which we know con-
sciousness to be actually connected in higher organisms,
chemical and biological facts render it all but certain that
the higher that consciousness the more highly elaborated
also the molecular structure manifesting it. This grad-
ual elaboration of higher and higher organic substance,
as a sustaining matrix of higher and higher life, is, in-
deed, the cardinal fact and essential import of evolution.
And it is for this reason that we have been here so em-
phatically dwelling on it.*
We have really no evidence whatever that proto-
plasmic individuals of a primitive kind are at all con-
scious. On the contrary, it can be positively demon-
strated that nutritive assimilation, and the protrusion and
retraction of processes takes place solely by dint of the
chemical and physical relations subsisting between the
organism and its medium, and between different parts of
its own protoplasm. Nor have we evidence of any de-
scription, allowing us'to conclude that the reproductive
germ of any sort of organism is in the slightest degree
conscious. Still less, then, have we a right to conclude
that consciousness is the influence which determines
organization.
Professor Cope's fundamental assertion that "science
proves that mind is the creator of organisms," has
through sundry modes of consideration been shown to
be untenable, and with it has given way his first and
only "step in the evidence of the existence of a great
mind." (T. of £., 25.) The greatest practical difficul-
ties, however, in the path of the mental origination of
organic results have not yet been touched upon. These
are: The initial entrance into existence of new organs;
the organization of the " circulatory and digestive sys-
tems;" the purposive movements of the tendrils of
plants, and those of carnivorous leaves that crush and
digest insects; indeed, all protective and adaptive organ-
ization of complex vegetation.-}- Professor Cope thinks
that "the answer to the question whether such organic
♦Organic substances are actually built up in the laboratory and out of it,
by means of the synthetical process known as chemical substitution.
fWe agree with Professor Cope that plants have most likely descended
from free moving protoplasmic individuals. Indeed, the old Aristotelean view,
that a plant is a reversed animal, is highly probable. It has become a parasite
of the soil, much in the same way as a tapeworm is a parasite of the intestinal
membrane, developing in many instances a vast number of somites or joints.
Only plants have come to spread their recipient verdure wide and wider into
the luminous air, lifting into life the crowning glory of their incense— shedding
bloom, to solemnize in nuptial splendor the great mystic rites of procreation.
Whoever has witnessed the protoplasm of plants slip out of its cellular
envelope, move about for a while in amaboid fashion, become then sessile, and
enclose itself again in a new envelope of its own making, can hardly avoid
adopting the Aristotelean inference.
results originated in consciousness or unconsciousness,
constitutes the key to the mysteries of evolution, and
around it the battle of the evolutionists of the coming
years will be fought." (O. of F., p. 394.)
Of course we, who do not believe in the organizing
power of consciousness as such, cannot look upon this
question " of consciousness or unconsciousness " as the
central point of contention in the evolutional campaign.
Nevertheless, we fully admit as a leading proposition —
to be scientifically proved against mechanical biology —
that spontaneous activities have played the greatest part
in evolution, and that those special spontaneous activi-
ties, called volitional and emenating from nerve-centers,
have conduced more than any other influence to realize
the organic development of higher animals, especially
the development of man; that, furthermore, the future
evolution of the human race will be almost entirely de-
pendent on the direction taken by such activities.
Spontaneous activity subjugates and utilizes the mechan-
ical nexus. The philosophical revolt against mechanical
necessity will certainly receive its scientific justification.
No doubt the organic development, manifestly accom-
panying functional activity wherever it takes place, has
to be regarded as the essential fact in productive evolu-
tion. And, though the scientific evidence for the trans-
mission of acquired modifications and aptitudes is not
yet abundant, still it is sufficient clearly to indicate that
in that direction is to be sought the veritable spring of
progressive development. Paleontological research
demonstrates that productive evolution has actually
taken place on our planet. And if we are not positively
certain to what influences it was mainly due, we have at
all events experience of various occurrences decidedly
pointing toward functional activity as its proximate
cause. It is, above all, the astonishing process of retro-
grade metamorphosis, distinctly traceable in parasitic
organisms, which affords strong proof that organic
structure can maintain itself only by dint of vital activity,
and that the deteriorating results of functional inaction
become hereditary in the race. This unmistakable and
most striking experience renders it at least highly proba-
ble that, vice versa, the developmental results of func-
tional activity have likewise become hereditary in the
race. And, if the very existence of organic structure is
thus dependent on functional activity, then all organic
structure must have been developed by means of such
activity. Indeed, it is not difficult to demonstrate that
the living substance, even when constituting lowest forms
of life, exists solely by means of a definite cycle of
molecular activities, kept up through functional inter-
action with the medium.
Organic structure is the sensible manifestation or
bodily expression of vital activity ; a particular structure,
the bodily expression of a particular vital activity; both,
the structure and the activity by which it is formed and
3°2
THE OPEN COURT.
sustained, are the visible exhibition of one and the same
indiscerptible fact of nature. You may stimulate a
vital structure to heightened activity, but you cannot
altogether arrest the peculiar molecular process by
which it is constituted without simultaneously suppress-
ing its vitality.
When pathologists discover a hypertrophic heart
they at once know that some impediment in the circula-
tion has thrown an abnormal amount of work on the
pumping muscle, through which increased function the
excessive structural development was brought about.
When they meet with a greatly enlarged, healthy kid-
ney they are certain that the other kidney has in some
way become useless. Surely, it would be an extrava-
gant, unwarranted hypothesis to assume here that some
kind of consciousness has been the influence which has
directed the building up of those most specifically con-
stituted organic structures. But the question of con-
scious direction starts into prominence as soon as it is some
so-called voluntary exercise, that seems to give rise to
structural development. When I deliberately set about
to develop the muscles of my arm through voluntary
activity, and the result aimed at actually follows, it has
all the appearance as if it had been produced under the
guidance of consciousness. Here we find ourselves
face to face again with the supposition that mind is mov-
ing matter, a notion whose fallacy we have exposed in
the first part of this examination.
Let us see whether we can catch a glimpse of the
means which in reality conduce to determine this mar-
velous occurrence — the development, the creation of
organic structure. A person setting out on a walking
tour finds at the end of it that the muscles of his leg
have been greatly developed — a result neither consciously
aimed at nor anticipated. What can consciousness have
contributed toward the result in this instance? It will,
of course, be said that the walking at all events was
done under the influence of consciousness. But mere
artificial stimulation will answer the same purpose.
Muscular structure can be kept up and developed by
nothing but electric stimulation. Here, then, we be-
come distinctly aware that the faculty of developing un-
der activity is wholly inherent in the functioning struct-
ure. It is true the activity has to be stimulated, but
any kind of stimulus will answer. Can consciousness
be regarded as one of these ? Does the mental state,
called consciousness, itself originate somewhere in the
brain, the special molecular motion which, propagated
along the motor nerves, acts as a natural stimulus to the
muscles? Such a mental origination of motion is wholly
inconceivable.
When manual skill of a peculiar kind is acquired
and becomes at last automatic, the principal change that
has taken place consists evidently in a modification of
nerve-structure, whose molecular constitution has become
thus specifically organized, enabling it in future to act
or function at once in so definite a manner that its prop-
agated commotion results in the peculiarly co-ordinated
set of movements which make up the skillful perform-
ance. How has this been brought about? The un-
usual combination of movements has been effected by
means of manual aptitudes already organized, with the
further assistance of sight and touch. We are nowise
directly aware of the structural modification which is
occurring in the nerve-centers. It is unconsciously
wrought by the constant reiteration of those particular
muscular movements. They are its true inciting cause.
For it is a fact, that muscular fibers and their central
connections form one continuous organic texture. Noth-
ing can happen in the peripheral parts without affect-
ing the central parts.
We know, then, that consciousness organizes nerve-
structure just as little as it organizes muscular structure.
The faculty of becoming specifically organized under
special modes of activity resides in nerve-structure in
the same manner as it resides in muscular structure; and
this amounts, in all verity, to a creative accession of
specific energy. For it must obviously be regarded as
a specific energy that a particular functional activity of
nerve-structure can become thus automatically capable
of definitely stimulating a certain simultaneous and suc-
cessive set of muscular movements. We have, then,
here an altogether hyper-mechanical faculty, belonging
to what we ferccive as the molecular constitution of the
functioning structure. And the constituent elements of
this structure are not placed into organic arrangement
by any outside influence, whether conscious or uncon-
scious. They are held together in their peculiar order
by intrinsic forces; the entire vital arrangement and
commotion possessing, moreover, the inscrutable and
creative power of progressively developing under func-
tional activity. This organic development may rightly
be called creative, because it is not that something
already existing has merely changed place and form,
but that something has newly merged into being which
did not exist before. This actual state of things con-
stitutes a fundamental, anti-mechanical fact of nature,
forming part of that vital spontaneity of which our
world-mastering, world-transforming volition is an out-
come.
The aid which sense-perception affords to organic
development cannot be over-estimated; but the pro-
gressive organization to which it ministers takes place
just as unconsciously as all other organization. Our so-
called memory, which we build up through sensorial
experience, is organically wrought by dint of processes
occurring wholly beyond consciousness. Only our vital
spontaniety enables us to place ourselves in such rela-
tions to our medium as will best conduce to our welfare.
And we know, by means of pleasurable or painful
THE OPEN COURT.
303
feelings, which of the manifold influences of the medium
are affecting us beneficially and which harmfully.
Beside, our race, through ages upon ages of vital
toil with its cumulative organic results, and through
traditional experience artificially secured, has acquired
the power not merely of benefiting by the best condi-
tions naturally offered in the medium, but of actually
transforming the medium itself, so that it may better
subserve its human purpose.
In this sense we assent to Professor Cope's dictum,
that " Intelligent choice may be regarded as the orig-
inator of the fittest, while natural selection is the tri-
bunal to which all the results of accelerated growth are
submitted."
THE GOSPEL VILLAGE.
BY ONE WHO SOJOURNED THERE.
" Of course they won't convert you," said the old stage-driver,
as he drove me up among the mountains, which I had private rea-
sons for exploring thoroughly. " Your head's level. But they'll
do their best to make you comfortable; and you can't help liking
'em. I've known 'em, and known all about 'em, for more'n two
years, and I know they never speak an unkind word to anybody,
nor about anybody, nor find fault with anything, not even the
weather. I used to growl a little, when I first drove over there,
about the dust, and so on, but they never joined in; and when I
got familiar enough to ask why they didn't, they said it is God
that makes the weather. I s'pose He does here in Southern Cali-
forny, if He does anywheres. Well, it beats all how they feed
and clothe the tramps and cranks. If they weren't so hard up
themselves, the village would keep chock full of free boarders.
But they can't stand such poor living a great while; and then, you
see, I'm a Justice, and I clear out the worst of 'em as fastas I can.
There's an Elder that's been hanging 'rourd these six weeks, try-
ing to make 'em pay him for preaching to 'em, when he knows its
against their principles to. I've been kind of hankering after his
company back with me, and I guess I'll get it this trip. You see,
as I watered the horses in what we call Brandyville, I heard that
their Elder had gone off mighty sudden, and it would be just the
place for the man I'm after. Guess he'll call it a providence; and
may be it is; though it's rough on Brandyville."
His talk ran on until we rattled down, through pastures full of
sheep, vineyards in bearing, and rich fields of grain, to the great
grove of apple, orange and walnut trees, amid which stood an old
monastery, with several cottages that evidently had been but
lately built. In the broad veranda sat the Elder, a fat, jolly look-
ing fellow, even younger than I. He was delighted to hear of the
opening in Brandyville, and at once began to tell us a string of
what he called good stories, which he said the villagers were too
old-fashioned to appreciate. The old stage-driver listened with a
broad grin, but suddenly stopped the flow of jokes about the Bible,
in order to give more particulars about the vacant pulpit. As he
did so, he nudged me, and I saw in the room within a tall, slender
girl, moving to and fro with a look of disgust and pain on her
sweet, pale face. There beamed only peace and charity from her
large, dark eyes, however, when she came out to welcome me to her
home. There Martha dwelt with her meek, yet steadfast father,
whom I soon learned to call Uncle Joshua, her blithesome little
sister, Mary, her old aunt, and her cousin Ben, a young man who
was like her in that he said almost nothing. His eyes seemed,
however, to see all that went on around him ; while there was such
a dreamy look in hers, as made me at first wonder at the neatness
of the house, and the excellence of the dinner, though this con-
sisted mainly of food which I had brought, at the stage-driver's
suggestion. As he and Ben were harnessing the horses, and the
young preacher was waiting for the stage, Uucle Joshua said:
" My brother, you have done what you could for us, and we have
tried to do for you, according to our means and our principles. I
thank you, and bless you in the name of the Lord Jesus. And
now, I beseech you, as I have done already, tell us, for His sake,
if there is anything in our principles and purposes, that is contrary
to His words. We are weak and ignorant, but we try to follow
Christ. If there is any better way than this tell us plainly."
" Oh, well," said the minister, with a smile, " the main trouble,
in my opinion, is that you are making unnecessarily hard work
of it."
" But when Jesus was asked, ' Lord, are there few that be
saved?' He said unto them, ' Strive to enter in at the straight
gate; for many, I say unto you, will seek to enter in, and shall
not be able.' And you know we have two parables to teach us
the same truth : ' Many be called, but few chosen.' "
"Dear me, 1 have been trying to make you see that all this
was only a prophesy that the Jewish nation would be punished
for crucifying Him, by losing the honor of being the chosen
people."
" I know, brother, you have taken a great deal of trouble
with us, and I have been studying the Gospels very carefully
while you have sojourned here, trying to see which of us is right.
It looks to me as if He did not speak for that day only, but for
all the ages. Matthew, Mark and Luke all tell us that He said,
' Heaven and earth shall pass away, but My words shall not pass
away.' And His last words to the Apostles, according to Mat-
thew, were these: 'Go ye, therefore, and teach all nations, bap-
tizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of
the Holy Ghost, teaching them to observe all things whatsoever
I have commanded you; and lo! I am with you alway, even unto
the end of the world. Amen.'"
"Amen," murmured the sweet voice of Martha.
"But you don't surely think," said the minister, "that we
are commanded to raise the dead, and take up rattlesnakes,
and heal the sick by laying hands on them, as the Apostles were,
do you? "
" I think that if we had more of their faith we should have
more of their power; and I know that Jesus was speaking to
great multitudes when He said, 'If any man come to me, and
hate not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and
brethren, and sisters, — yea, and his own life, also, — he cannot be
My disciple. And whosoever he be of you that forsaketh not
all that he hath, he cannot be My disciple.' "
" But even you do not keep these precepts literally. You don't
want Miss Martha, here, to hate you, and you have not yet given
up all you have, though you seem likely to. Don't you see
you've got to use common sense in interpreting Scripture; you've
no right to say that Jesus taught what isn't rational."
" But, brother, even His friends thought Him mad. The
Bible 6ays nothing about 'common sense;' but it does say ' It is
not in man that walketh to direct His steps.' 'Trust in the Lord
with all thy heart, and lean not unto thine own understanding.'
Who am I that I should set my own mind above that of Christ,
and seek to explain His words away? You know yourself that
we are trying to use our property even as the first disciples did
theirs. And it would be better for Martha to hate me, and all
men else, even him whom she might love most tenderly, rather
than let anyone come between her and Christ."
"But I am 6ure you would do him better service if you would
live more like other Christians. You're not going to convert
many people if you begin by making yourselves unpopular."
" You agree with me that California is not so religious a
nation as Judea; but Jesus said: 'Woe unto you when all men
3°4
THE OPEN COURT.
shall speak well of you; for so did their fathers to the false
prophets.' 'That which is highly esteemed with men is abomi-
nation in the sight of God.' He told His disciples that the world
would hate them as it hated Him. He looked forward even to
this day, as he said in sorrow: 'When the Son of Man cometh,
shall He find faith on the earth?' The time has come, brother,
for you to leave us. We shall see your face no more. Let me
beseech you to remember how Paul and James and the beloved
disciple bid us not to be conformed to the world, but to keep our-
selves unspotted from it, for ' The whole world lieth in wicked-
ness,' and ' Whosoever, therefore, will be a friend of the world is
the enemy of God.' "
The minister retreated so badly routed that I took care not to
argue with Uncle Joshua, though I found that the children were
taught nothing but writing and a little oral arithmetic, besides
reading the Bible, and that no book but this was ever read, nor
any newspaper, except those sent with notices of funerals. What
else could be expected of men who delighted lo talk of Jesus
"having never learned," of God having " made foolish the wis-
dom of this world," of knowledge vanishing away, and of "avoid-
ing oppositions of science, falsely so-called." They imitated
Wesley in interpreting such texts as, "Woe unto you that laugh;"
" Bodily exercise profiteth little;" "Is any merry? let him sing
psalms;" etc., so strictly that there was no play, even for little
children.
They owned all their property in common. The women
kept themselves in complete subjection to their fathers and
husbands, and took little "thought for iaiment" or "outward
adorning;" but no neglect could destroy Martha's loveliness. I
remember much more of her aspiring face in meeting, which ot
course was held on Saturday, than of Joshua's sermons. I re-
member, though, that he justified their practice of trusting not to
physicians, but to "the prayer of faith," by the unusually good
health in the village, and also that, while showing sincere grati-
tude to God for having brought them to a place where they did
not need to take thought for the morrow, or lay up any riches, he
predicted that the whole earth would come into the same condi-
tion as fast as men really began to live according to the Sermon
on the Mount.
No one could have followed it more faithfully. Even when
a naughty boy who had strolled into the village was wantonly
picking, and throwing away after a single bite, the peaches not yet
ripe enough for market, Joshua would do no more than remon-
strate gently, and quote text after text. I took up my gun in
order to frighten him, but Martha stepped between, saying, " Re-
sist not evil! " Fortunately my spy -glass answered just as well,
for he had no sooner seen me level it, than he jumped down and
ran off, telling a companion who was waiting for him: "It's no
use foolin' with them things."
I had spent a month apparently in hunting and fishing, at
first near the village and then in long excursions through the
mountains, before I picked out the place for sinking the mine
that has made me rich. As a guide, I had Ben, whom I got very
fond of, especially after he killed a big rattler I was about to jump
on.
He had a curious way of asking questions when we were
alone together, sometimes about politics, then about the laws gov-
erning the sale of real estate, then about the genuineness of the
Gospels, and then in turn about the success of communistic set-
tlements.
I kept as far as I could from saying what I knew Joshua
and Martha would not wish him to hear; but at last he told
me just as I was about to leave for San Francisco, that all
his inquiries had the same object. His uncle and mother and the
other settlers had put all their property into starting the village,
but had only paid one quarter of the price of the real estate. The
next payment would be due in a few weeks, and there was no
chance of meeting it. The owners, among whom was the stage-
driver, might allow them more time, but would certainly not give
up their claim entirely. His uncle and cousin were willing to
submit to what they called the will of God. But he did not
feel sure that Jesus had commanded such a way of living, and
even if he did, the fact that he and the apostles were entirely
wrong about politics showed that they were not likely to have
known much about business either. The Gospel plan of having
all things in common, and taking no thought for the morrow, had
always proved a failure. In their village those who were not too
old or feeble to work hard lacked motive to do so. He did not
work himself as he could anywhere else, for he could see no
gain to those he loved best from his labor. His mother thought
as he did, and his uncle had finally consented to his going away
if I would take him with me. This, of course, I was glad to do.
He is now superintendent at the mine, and has married his cousin
Mary.
With his help I kept watch over the community until the
time drew near on which it was broken up. One day I found
Martha weeping bitterly and even more distressed about her
father's and sister's prospects than her own. I told her of the
new home, ready for us all to live in together, and she at once con-
sented, saying that she would rather serve me than anyone else.
But when I begged her to be my wife, she shrank back and said
she could not let even me come between her and Christ. I prom-
ised again and again that I would never turn her away from the
path she had chosen, but would do my best to make it easy to her
feet. I assured her that I loved her all the more because she
walked so high above the world, and lived such a perfectly Christ-
like life.
" Alas," she moaned, "you call it Christ-like; but you will not
follow it. Even while you sojourned here, you were serving
Mammon. You will keep on doing so; and I could not marry
you without becoming a helpmeet for you. The wife must be
subject to the husband."
"No, no! I don't wish that. I believe that every woman
should be free to choose her own path to heaven, and you more
than all the rest."
" Woe unto us both! I see it all plainly. You do not believe
in Christ! If you did, you would try to give up the world; and
you would not offer me any more freedom than is appointed in the
Word of God. And oh! Oh! You remember what Jesus said
is to become of all who believe not on him ! Are we to love each
other, only to be separated forever?"
" You may make me a Christian, Martha. I wish I were
more like you."
" But I am very weak and ignorant. If I marry you, your
thoughts will be my thoughts, and your ways my ways. It is bet-
ter that you marry some one wise and strong enough to show you
your path to heaven. We shall meet there where they neither
marry, nor are given in marriage. Till then we must part. It is
for such as me that Paul wrote : " Be ye not unequally yoked to-
gether with unbelievers." At last my cross is laid upon me!
Leave me alone with Christ, I beseech you, until his yoke grows
easier for me to bear!"
She burst into tears, and broke away from me. Before I
could see her again I was telegraphed for from New York. I left
money with her aunt, to get the whole family to where Ben
was waiting for them. I wrote letter after letter to her and
her father; but had no answer. I was detained longer than
I expected to be, and had almost made up my mind to leave the
business unfinished, when I happened to see this heading in a
Sunday paper: "Too Christian by Half! Prayer Cure
versus Smallpox!" Joshua had taken in a sick tramp and
called no physician. Among the dead was Martha.
THE OPEN COURT.
305
CORRESPONDENCE.
MIND-READING, ETC., AGAIN— A CORRECTION.
To the Editors:
Your issue of June 9th contains an article by J. S. Ellis. It
purports to be a criticism of mine which appeared in your paper
of the 2Sth of April. Had Mr. Ellis only made an attack on me
I should not have broken into my vacation time by taking the
trouble to reply. But so extraordinary are its misrepresentations
that I cannot let them pass. Some casual reader, or some one
who did not read mv article at all, may get the impression from
Mr. Ellis that I really hold the astonishing positions which he
attributes to me.
He says that my article is a " characteristic one." I am not
familiar with his writing; but if this is "characteristic" of him,
then he alone, is abundant justification for 1113' first article. Instead
of sitting in scientific judgment on me, he needs to learn the very
first principles of the "scientific method" — the chief of which is
the calm observation and record of a lew facts to start with. For
most of the statements he makes about the positions I took in my
article are simply untrue. I proceed to give a few specimens:
1. He says I "demand that investigators should be believers."
This is even ludicrously false. Why does he suppose I care to
have people investigate who are already believers? I merely
pointed out the absurdity of a person's investigating a thing when
he is thoroughly convinced beforehand that it is all humbug. I only
said that this — a somewhat common — state of mind was hardly
the proper one for a scientific investigator.
2. He makes me say that " the non acceptance of these alleged
facts by scientists is a scandal both to science and philosophy." I
said nothing of the kind. I said that, since there is such a body of
alleged fact, and since it has been in existence so many years,
and since so many otherwise intelligent people are believers, it is
a scandal that there should be no scientific investigations worthy
the name. The man who can think those two statements iden-
tical I cannot regard as a good illustration of the scientific state
of mind.
3. He puts me in the position of saying, that "when once a
man has persuaded himself that his particular nostrum is the
truth, he will receive and promulgate any number of 'cases' sup-
porting it that may be reported without any particular inquiry into
their reality." This is just about as near to what I said as a cari-
cature in Punch is like a photograph of Mr. Gladstone. What I
did say is simple common sense. A man who is familiar with the
fact of gravity does not need to go into an elaborate examination
of the statement of his small boy that, having flung a stone into
the air on a particular day,.it fell back to the earth again.
I have no means of verifying the statements as to thought-
transference that have been published by the English Societv. But
I quite fail to see the manifest absurdity of my inclining to the
opinion that they may be true, on the ground of my personal ac-
quaintance with similar things.
And if — as is true — it was not my purpose to publish these
facts at present, I hardly see what right Mr. Ellis has to demand
that I either give up my personal property — these facts — or else
hold my peace.
Why, then, did I write the article at all? I wrote it at the
request of the editor of this paper. And my purpose — as anv
"scientific" observer ought to have seen — was not at all to prove
the truth of mind-reading, or anything else. It was only to com-
mend the subject as worthy of scientific attention, and to suggest
some criticisms as to the temfer in which the investigation ought
to be carried on. And Mr. Ellis promises to render me valuable
aid in my work ; for the temper he shows is a first-class specimen
of " how not to do it."
4. Mr. Ellis, again, charges me with wanting some "sort ot
rubbish " admitted into scientific theories. This, also, is simplv
false. I asked nobody to admit anything into any scientific
theory.
This is enough to illustrate the competence of my critic (?)
to see and state facts, even concerning plain statements made by
the writer of a newspaper article.
As my chief purpose, at this time, is to correct these gross
misrepresentations, I will make short work of what I wish further
to say. Mr. Ellis thinks it " characteristic " of me to hold the
opinion " that there are proven facts which are denied admittance
into scientific theories." I am glad if it is characteristic of me to
be sensible enough to hold such an opinion. How does the
world's knowledge grow except by the discovery of new facts?
And of course there is always a time, after these new facts are
discovered, before they are admitted "into scientific theories."
How about evolution itself only a few years ago. So this wonder
that is characteristic of me, turns out to be only a very common-
place piece of common sense after all.
Only one point more will I make. Mr. Ellis seems to think
that nothing can be demonstrated to be a fact unless it can be
dealt with as a chemist deals with a salt in his laboratory. I be-
lieve that nothing can be demonstrated except by the scientific
method. But this one method, in the hands of a sensible man,
will take account of the kind of supposed fact and the conditions.
Suppose, for example, that a scientist stoops low enough to con-
sent to investigate the preposterous and barbaric superstition that
a man is something besides dirt, and that there is something in
him that continues to live after the death of the body. There are,
even in this nineteenth century, certain curious people who at
least hofe that this may be true. There are even some who claim
that they have received communications from their "dead"
friends. Now suppose, I say, that a scientist should turn aside
from the more important question of bugs and skeletons to inves-
tigate these absurd claims. Now, of course, if a man consents to
investigate a thing he, by that fact, admits that there is something
to investigate. And, if he is a rational man, he considers the na-
ture of the supposed fact to be investigated. Does he expect
to catch a " spirit " and cage him in his laboratory till he gets
through with him? Every sensible man knows that the mental
or nervous condition of even a hypnotic subject may make or mar
all experiments. And these the " operator " may be entirely una-
ble to control, as he can easily control his "salt." And all this is
a thousand times more true in dealing with what is called a
" medium."
It is just this sort of nonsense, of testing these things in the
same way as one would conduct a purely physical experiment, that
I had in mind in my first article. But the " scientific method "
must always be adhered to — the method of getting facts first,
being sure of them — and then trying to see what they mean after-
ward. But if it should ever happen that one were dealing with
an invisible intelligence of any kind, it is palpably absurd to talk
of treating such a fact as if it were a " salt," or of being able always
to repeat the same experiment and get the same results at will.
This supposed invisible intelligence may have a will of his own,
and so object to being "ordered around " at the caprice of the ex-
perimenter.
I express no belief in these things. I only say that, if such
claims as these are ever to be investigated, these suggestions and
such as these have got to be taken into account. To defy all the
common sense of the supposed conditions and facts and then to
speak of it as investigation at all, is manifestly a farce.
Now, any one who jumps to the conclusion that I am a spritu-
alist because I say these things, will manifest the same unscien-
tific temper that Mr. Ellis has already done. I only claim that if
spiritualism is to be investigated at all, it should be investigated
in the light of its own claims and not according to methods which,
3°6
THE OPKN COURT.
while appropriate enough to " salts," are absurd as applied to its
asserted facts. M. J. Savage.
THE ENGLISH GOVERNMENT OF IRELAND.
To the Editors: Ottawa, Can., May 19, 18S8.
It is somewhat surprising to see the unanimity with which
American newspaper and other writers condemn the English
government of Ireland. We do not wonder at this on the part
of the political press, because the necessity of catching the Irish
vote is sufficient to account for it. But we should expect to see
a disposition calmly to investigate the facts displayed by those
who do not write for the purpose of conciliating the Irish. It is
sometimes difficult to balance the conflicting statements on either
side. Still, there are rational probabilities which should make
people pause before they condemn the English government on all
Irish charges. The fact that Parliament is evidently so anxious
to do justice to Ireland that it has, during the last twenty years,
passed so many acts for that purpose, putting the Irish tenant in
a much better position than his fellow subjects in England and
Scotland, that an altogether disproportionate amount of its time
and attention has been given for many years to Irish affairs ; these
considerations form a strong presumption that there is something
wrong in the wholesale condemnation of the American press.
The most absurd tirade on English government in Ireland
that I have yet seen, appears in the last number of The Open
Court, written by an otherwise very sensible woman — Mrs.
Stanton. She seems to have been reading some of the sham his-
tories of Ireland, written by Irishmen, which bear about the same
relation to facts as the mythical histories of ancient Greece and
Rome. It seems that " Down to the sixteenth century Ireland,
in her system of education and jurisprudence, was pre-eminently
the great center of progress and learning. To her free schools
and universities came students from every part of Christendom,
and Irish teachers and professors spread throughout the known
world." We are told the still more astounding fact that " The
body of her laws, revised and codified, is now, by order of the
British government, being translated [out of the original Gaelic,
I suppose] and published as a rare and valuable treasury of an-
cient jurisprudence, Parliament making an annual grant for that
purpose since 1852." This must be news to British statesmen.
An annual grant for thirty-five years to translate and publish the
jurisprudence of the times of Brian Boru! "But alas!" Mrs.Stan-
ton adds, "all this glory has departed. All the solemn treaties
made by England when Ireland consented to a union [the union
took place in 1800] have one after another been violated; her
manufactures, by direct legislation, have been ruthlessly destroyed,
the education of her children made a penal offense [what would
Archbishop Whately, the author of Irish National Education,
have thought of this?], her lands confiscated, her troops dis-
banded." And so on, through a column of senseless abuse of
England, of which it is unnecessary to take any notice.
Every candid person in the United States must be struck by
the contrast between the North and the other three divisions of
Ireland; the one distinguished by content and prosperity as
much as the others by discontent and poverty. So far from Irish
manufactures being ruthlessly destroyed by English legislation,
we see Belfast a flourishing manufacturing center, having grown
from a town of a few thousands of inhabitants, at the time of the
union, to a large city of 220,000. All the industries which dis-
tinguish the neighboring city of Glasgow, even to the building
of iron steamships, are here carried on. With the exception of
Catholic disabilities, which lasted twenty-nine years after the
union, but which were abolished sixty years ago, the Irish people
are on a perfect footing of equality with each other, North and
South, as well as with their fellow-subjects in England and Scot-
land. There is perfect freedom of trade between them. Every
measure of improvement in legislation has been extended to Ire-
land. Every extension of the suffrage — down to the latest one,
under Mr. Gladstone's government, which doubled the numbers
of the Parnellite party in the House of Commons — has been in
common to the three kingdoms.
If it be said that the inhabitants of the North of Ireland are
of a different race from the rest of the island, that they are the
descendants of colonists from the dominant race in England and
Scotland, we may compare the aboriginal Irish with the inhabit-
ants of Wales, who are of the same Celtic stock. The Welsh,
while protesting loudly against the Established Church, in which
few of them believe, are nevertheless prosperous and contented.
They also were conquered by the Saxon. But they do not shoot
their landlords; they do not refuse to pay their rents, and boycott
and murder those who do.
This leads us to the true cause of all the miseries of Ireland.
When the Reformation took place in England, the Welsh joined
with it at once. Like the Scotch people, they became and have
remained more Protestant than the English. The majority of
them are strongly Methodist. The Irish, unhappily, clung ten-
aciously to the old religion. The Church of Rome, since the
days of the Spanish Armada, has been the persistent enemy of
England, as she is to this day the enemy of every free people.
She has made the most of the adhesion of the Irish people. To
multiply the numbers of the faithful, she long encouraged early
and improvident marriages, till the population outran the resources
of the land. Forty years ago, a population of eight millions of
potato-fed people broke down under stress of famine and perished
in thousands, while no such calamity overtook any .other part of
the British islands. The Church has opposed the education of
the masses in Ireland, and has done everything in its power to
thwart the excellent system of national education established
chiefly by the influence of Archbishop Whately.
The first effect of home rule would be that the clergy would
get complete control of education, and everybody who knows
anything about education in the Province of Quebec knows what
that means. Nevertheless, many thoughtful persons in America
say that the Irish ought to have home rule; that they ought to
have a Parliament of their own to manage local affairs, and
advice flows in from all quarters in the United States and Can-
ada to the British people to abandon their system of legislative
union and adopt a federal system in its stead. But a legislative
union has many points in its favor, and the nation will be slow to
change it till they have better proof than they have yet had of
the success of the federal system on the other side of the
Atlantic. J. G. W.
IS MEMORY NECESSARY TO CONSCIOUS MENTAL
LIFE?
To the Editors: Morris Plains, N.J.
Mr. Daniel G. Thompson, in his interesting article on "Per-
sonal Immortality," in The Open Court, says that memory is
everywhere necessary to conscious mental life, because we can
only recognize an experience by reference to former experience
(in other words, by comparison), and upon this, if I understand
him rightly, he bases his hope of immortality, and at once recog-
nizes the weakness of the position in the fact that memory is
apparently dependent upon bodily conditions.
Of course, if the continuance of conscious life is dependent
on memory, the logical result must be that immortality can only
exist when meroory is retained, but — is not memory, as he under-
stands it, rather a quality of the mind than of the soul, and as
such, necessarily dependent upon the existence of the body and
a clog — rather than an agent — of immortality ?
Surely, we are conscious of mental life, quite independently of
any comparison or memory. The fact that we know, that we
think, implies the existence of something of which we think, and
THE OPEN COURT.
3°7
if comparison were necessary to that experience, we should have
to conceive it possible to not think, which is unthinkable. We
think — therefore there is an object of thought; therefore that
object existed before our thought conceived it, and must always
have existed, or we could not conceive it as having done so.
Would it not 6eem that we must seek the best argument for im-
mortality in the existence of that of which we think, rather than
in the fact that we think of it, and in 60 doing compare it with
former experience? The mind conceives — yes — but it is the
existence of that of which the mind conceives, not the fact ot
the conception, which suggests the immortal. Of course, im-
mortality is past as well as future. It cannot be otherwise. Mr.
Thompson says: What once was, is; but it is necessarily equally
true that what is, was. May not memory or comparison be the
echo, as it were, of immortality rather than, in any sense, its
proof ?
Again, Mr. Thompson says: Disintegration or dissolution
of the body is merely disappearance, and we are bound to con-
sider reappearance possible under appropriate conditions; but can
it be said of the soul, or immortal part, that it ever has appeared,
or ever disappeared? The body, we know, returns to the native
elements; but of that which animated it what do we know? We
cannot certainly affirm of it that it is disintegrated ; it may have
been a simple principle!
If immortality can be scientifically demonstrated, it must be,
it would seem, by seeking for the proof in an experience which
is as universal as death itself. Do we not find this universal ex-
perience in the fact that an object of thought must exist before
thought itself ? must always have existed? must continue to
exist, independently of that which thinks it?
And as man's thought embraces the eternal, does it not, in
embracing it, become eternal also? For that which existed be-
fore his thought was, is, and must always be. Memory, as we
conceive it, is but one of the myriad manifestations of the possi-
bility of thought, as thought, and may be the perishable or mortal
part of that which is imperishable and immortal. If this be so,
the death of the body will be but one experience in the existence
of the eternal soul or thought; one link in an endless chain ot
being. This solution of the problem, if permissible, would at
once make immortality individual (if not personal) as the neces-
sary result of individual experience. It would almost seem as if,
in such a connection, individual thought experience, through the
medium of the body, would alone make what we mean by per-
sonal immortality possible, and then only as contingent to, and
not as an absolute necessity of, individual eternal life. That which
is personal may die, if not with the body, later; but that which is
individual, as the experience of thought, embracing an object
necessarily eternal, cannot die, but must be as eternal as the
object it can conceive, otherwise it could not conceive it.
I am so fully aware of my ignorance of philosophy that I
can only beg Mr. Thompson's indulgence for these remarks, in
consideration of my very deep interest in the subject of his paper.
Unfortunately, it is this ignorance which makes it so difficult for
most of us women to follow the hopeful views of scientific phi-
losophy and, when "faith" is no longer possible, leaves us in that
quagmire of doubt which is our dismal nineteenth century inher-
itance. Yours truly,
Janet E. Ruutz-Rees.
BOOK REVIEWS.
Elements of Botany. By Edson S. Bastin, A. M., F. R.M.S.
Professor of Botany, Materia Medica and Microscopy
in the Chicago College of Pharmacy. G. T. Engelhard &
Co., Publishers: Chicago, 1887.
There is not much room for originality in the make up of a
botanical work, but Professor Bastin has written a valuable
treatise that no cyclopaedia or library could equal in the special
information afforded. Ashe says in his preface: "A botany is
needed for high schools, academies and colleges of pharmacy and
medicine; there are works which are admirably adapted to
students of mature and scientifically trained minds, and there are
others which are quite well suited to the needs of young begin-
ners. Too many text books on scientific studies are written for
the few whose exceptional taste for science makes them willing
to encounter unusual difficulties, but such text books are ill suited
for general use, and often create a distaste for what they are
intended to encourage." Professor Bastin lays stress upon the
order of presenting a subject, as what is best for the average
student is not equally suited to the well-disciplined mind, " nor is
the logical arrangement of a mass of scientific facts necessarily the
logical order of inculcating them, a position strongly taken by
Herbert Spencer, and one that is affecting all branches of educa-
tion. "The mind of the pupil should be led from that which is
familiar to that which is less so— from the known to the
unknown." Professor Bastin, therefore, leads his classes to
observe, accurately, roots, stems, leaves and other structures, with
which they are already more or less acquainted, before the intri-
cacies of all organization are taken up, requiring the use of the
compound microscope and trained observing faculties. The ele-
mentary facts and principles of botany are presented simply,
clearly and with regard to the natural growth of the student's
mental faculties. The too liberal use of technical terms has been
avoided. Familiar plants have been selected from which to
illustrate structures, and a copious glossary is appended.
The abundance of illustrations throughout the work lighten
the student's labor greatly. Most of these are drawn by the
author.
Plants, and not books about plants, or mere botanical names,
are insisted upon as the subject matter. First, the organs or
instruments with which plants do their work, as roots, stems,
leaves, parts of flowers, their forms and modifications are treated;
then the microscopic details, and under the head of physiology
the way plants and their parts do their work are discussed. The
classification comes last, which in older works was made the
main and first consideration.
The facts of evolution are strongly brought out in a matter-
of-fact way, without the apologies, polemics or aggressiveness,
thought necessary a decade ago in such a presentation. Professor
Bastin became very adroit at this method of teaching, when,
years ago, he taught botany (as well as all the other sciences) in
the Chicago University. His students imbibed Darwinism with-
out knowing that they had done so, and his associates, the theo-
logical professors, bewailed the degeneracy of the modern student's
intellect in that it sought reasons for things in preference to rely-
ing upon tradition. Professor Bastin's pupils lost all relish for
dogmatism, inspired or expired.
In Professor Bastin's book a defense of some nomenclatural
changes would have been in order, for, however much they may
really be justified in the teacher's mind, they shock those who
learned the olden names of divisions, classes and orders into rub-
bing their eyes and pricking up their ears. Some of these
changes the professor is not responsible for and these especially
grate upon the sensibilities of an old-timer. For instance, though
we mav agree upon the abolition of hard and fast demarcations
intogenera, varieties, etc., some sort of classification, however
arbitrary, is necessary. One of the most convenient mnemo-
technical aids was the termination of the noun and adjective
denoting the order, "aa?" Broad-minded old Asa Gray, who
readily conceded the truths of evolutionism, but who left the
work of revision to a later generation, affords us Compositacecz,
instead of Compositor. The euphonious sacrifices in the case of
3o8
THE OPEN COURT.
Labiativ and Leguiminosce even Gray had adopted, but if there is
anything in the retention of a terminal to designate a division it
should be general. In chemistry the endeavor to make all the
metals end in "turn" or " urn" as Ferruni, Potassium would be
as unreasonably balked, if Hydrogen took rank as metallic,
because Hydrogenium would sound oddly. Most of Professor
Bastin's changes fall among the cryptogamous series.
He is celebrated for a vast amount of work upon plant hairs,
which he modestly does not include in this work. The histolog-
ical and physiological parts are very interesting, and form an
important addition to general knowledge.
Professor Bastin is well known to scientists as a thorough-
going conscientious student and teacher. He is fortunate in the
companionship of an intellectual wife, to whom he dedicates his
book. Her sympathy and interest in his work he affectionately
acknowledges. s. v. c.
Columbus; or, A Hero of the New World. An historical
play, by D. S. Preston. New York and London : G. P. Put-
nam's Sons, 1SS7 ; pp. 99.
This patriotic poem is highly praised by Edwin Booth, as
well as by James Russell Lowell, and is dedicated to the latter in
verses felicitously recalling those delightful hours in which he
taught the Harvard students to appreciate Dante. The first act
shows us Columbus in the Alhambra obtaining, through the gen-
erous sympathy of Queen Isabella, means to set out for America,
despite the opposition of haughty nobles and superstitious priests.
His whole tone of thought is so enthusiastic and imaginative that
those who can share it will find nothing incongruous in the
appearance of the guardian genius of the United States, which
quells the mutiny upon the ocean. A similar vision ends the
drama, which leaves the discoverer restored to the favor of his
sovereigns, who had been temporarily offended by his disorderly
administration, as well as by his sending Indians to Spain to be
sold as slaves. There is action and pathos enough in the play
to make it a success on the stage provided that these visions
could be made to seem impressive to the audience. Perhaps we
are too practical for this to be possible; but we can all read with
sympathy the melodious lines in which the high-souled queen
encourages and consoles the great discoverer, who is nowhere
portrayed more noblv.
The Sailing of King Olaf and other Poems. Bv Alice
Williams Brotherton. Chicago: Charles II . Kerr & Co., 1SS7.
Price $1.00; pp. 145.
The writer of these poems whom we have known hitherto
mainly as a poet serious, devotional, and tenderly spiritual in her
expression, comes to us in this radiant and beautiful little volume
in a role new to us in her, but in the oldest and most delightful
poet fashion— as a balladist of romance, and her "Sailing of King
Olaf," "The Cardinals Saraband," " Dorothy Vernon's Flight,"
"Malison," "Saga of the Quern-Stones," "The Poison Flask"
and others, will stir the blood of youth and age equally, the one
from sympathy and the other for remembrance. The poems are
divided into four departments, the first unnamed, the others under
the headings "Carmina Votiva;" — " Rose Songs, etc.," — and
" The Inner Life." The artistic cover depicts the vessel of King
Olaf on its weird trip, and the book is a credit to its publishers
as well as to its author, whose charming portrait adorns the first
page and gives an added value to her sweet singing.
John C. Ropes, who gives us in addition to some half dozen new
pictures (caricature and other) of Napoleon, those of Sir John
Moore, Murat, Ney, Grouchy, Wellington, Bliicher, and Sir
Thomas Picton, from the author's own collection. "A Girl's
Life Eighty Years Ago — selections from the letters of Eliza
Southgate Bowne " will be found interesting reading as well to
students of history as to the ladies. The story department is full
and inviting.
The Journal du Ciel, semi-monthly, is published by Joseph
Vinot, Cour de Rohan, Paris, to popularize the study of astron-
omy and is the organ of the Society of Astronomy. All sub-
scribers to the Journal are members of the Society. Other mem-
bers pay one franc yearly. Those who choose to act as corres-
ponding members will be furnished with instructions for observa-
tion and, so far as the society can afford it, with instruments.
One hundred and sixty-two such observers were at work Sep-
tember, 1S84. The society loans pamphlets, etc., to members who
pay six francs a year, beside postage. The Journal itself for May 18
gives the Ephemeris, or time of rising and setting of sun, moon,
Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn, with the positions of
these and other planets, from June 27 to July 10. There are also
records of observation of shooting stars, comets, etc. The Journal
has had a prize from the Academy des Sciences.
The series of Thackeray's letters now being published in
Scribner's Monthly is sufficient to make that magazine a popular
one, but apart from this it proves its raisou d'etre in the bright-
ness and variety of its other articles. The July number continues
the interesting " Illustrations of Napoleon and his Times," by
INDIVIDUAL EXPRESSIONS.
Your paper improves in each issue. — Wm. C. Mills, Rockford, Ills.
I take much pleasure in reading The Open Court, and wish it a long and
prosperous life. — Rosa L. Segur, Toledo, Ohio.
What a strong number the last one of The Open Court [No. 9] — almost
too solid for this ho', weather! I was glad to see Adam's name too. — W. M.
Salter.
Three cheers ior your new journal, The Open Court. Also please find
inclosed three dollars to renew subscription. — Isabel Underhill, Locust Val-
ley, N. Y.
I deeply regretted the abandonment of The Index, but am so well pleased
with The Open Court that I feel I have lost nothing. — Emory P. Robinson,
Sidney, Ohio. '
The first numbers of The Open Court have been a pleasure and profit to
me. I believe you have laid a foundation on which to build to literary and
financial success. — H. C Fulton, Davenport, la.
I think you ought to be overwhelmed with congratulations on the success
of The Open Court. Certainly it is a wonderfully progressive paper, and
grows more inviting every issue.— Janet E. Rees, Morris Plains, X.J.
I do not feel so lonesome as I thought I would without The Index. The
high character and sustained*excellence of The Open Court leave nothing to
lie desired. In fact I would not well know how to get along without it. You
may rest assured I shall miss no opportunity to procure subscribers to The
Open Court. — R.J. Moffat, North Sydney, N. B.
Max Muller is one of the most prominent names in science and literature.
It will give a great lift to The Open Court to have original articles from his
pen, especially those you have secured, they being lectures that have been de-
livered at the Royal Institution. I wish you could enlist a few more of the Eu-
ropean celebrities. Haeckel might be willing to contribute. He has been and
may still be at Rhodes studying Medusa'. — E. Montgomery.
I was glad to read in The Index last year an article on " Protection" — tucus
a non lucendo — analyzing its social and political development, and also one
recently in The Open Court on " Ethics in Public Affairs," and I trust other
writings of like import and spirit will occasionally appear in your columns.
Class agitation and class administration constitute the bete noir of civilization
and tend to deprave human conduct in all its dealings. But in the light of an
" open court " I trust the uncleanness of this beast may be exposed and perhaps
some day it will be disowned by the world.— John Henry Elliott,
Keenc, N. II.
Some years ago I read several lectures delivered by you, and, while not
believing that the evidence you based yourself upon at all justified your conclu-
sions, vet I was pleased with your general treatment of religion, and believe
that you are honest and try to be fair. It is to be regretted that neither Chris-
tians nor "infidels" always deserve the above praise, and it is a sad fact that
Christians are frequently very unfair, and, along with many " infidels," are far
from liberal under any reasonable construction of the term. My object, how-
ever, at this writing is simply to obtain a copy of The Open Court. — A. M.
Carlisle, Tallahassee, Fla.
The Open Court.
A Fortnightly Journal,
Devoted to the Work of Establishing Ethics and Religion Upon a Scientific Basis.
Vol. I. No. 12.
CHICAGO, JULY 21, 1S87.
I Three Dollars per Year.
( Single Copies, 15 cts.
[The second of Prof. F. Max Miiller's three lectures
on the " Science of Thought" is continued in this
issue. This lecture on " The Identity of Language
and Thought," and the third, on the " Simplicity
of Thought," not published nor to be published in
England, have been secured exclusively for The
Open Court, in which both will be printed from the
author's manuscript. This distinguished philologist
believes that language is the history of human thought,
and no other man living probably is as competent as he
to read this history understandingly, especially those
pages which indicate how men reasoned and what they
thought during the world's intellectual childhood.]
THE IDENTITY OF LANGUAGE AND THOUGHT.*
BY PROF. F. MAX MllLLER.
One of three Lectures on the Science of Thought delivered at
the Royal Institution, London, March, 187S.
Part II.
It is very strange to see how some philosophers are
perfectly unable to see the identity of thought and lan-
guage, while others never doubt it; and still more
strange to observe how even those who clearly see that
thought is realized and can be realized in language only,
yet shrink from drawing the inevitable conclusion, that
all philosophy has to deal in the first instance, and in
the last instance too, with words, with thought-words,
or word-thoughts. It may be both useful and interest-
ing, therefore, to examine some of the leading philoso-
phers as to the opinion which they held and expressed
on this subject. Their answers in many cases will turn
out to be very different from what one is led to expect
from the general tenor of their philosophy.
There is a curious break between the so-called scho-
lastic philosophy of the Middle Ages, and that stream
of philosophic thought which, beginning with Descartes
(1596-1650), has rolled on without interruption till it has
reached the very threshold of this institution. That
break has had its advantages, but there have been losses
also, particularly in the want of precise language and
terse argument on the part of our modern philosophers.
Hence while scholastic philosophers seldom leave us in
doubt as to their views of language and its relation to
* Copyright, iSS7, by The Open Court Publishing Co.
thought, modern philosophers seem to imagine that they
can either neglect altogether that fundamental question
of all philosophy, or express themselves in ambiguous
terms about it. If we ask, for instance, what Abelard
(1079-1142), the disciple of Rosedinus, taught on the
relation between language and intellect, he leaves us in
no doubt, but states plainly in his own quaint words
that " Language is generated by the intellect and gen-
erates intellect," thus showing that he had clearly appre-
hended the interdependence and essential identity of the
two.
Hobbes (15SS-1679), who among modern philoso-
phers is still most in svmpathy with the traditions of
Mediaeval scholasticism, declares without any hesitation
that man has reason because he has language; and he
adds, " It is evident that truth and falsity have no place
but among such living creatures as use speech."
Locke (1632-1704), though fully aware of the im-
portance of language in all philosophical discussions,
could not bring himself to sav that thought is either im-
possible or possible without language. " Most men,"
he says, "if not all, in their thinking and reasoning
within themselves, make use of words instead of ideas,
at least when the subject of their meditation contains in
it complex ideas." This half- hearted opinion we find
again and again in philosophers who shrink from the
effort of resolute thought. They are ready to admit
that it is almost impossible to think without words, but
where this almost begins or where it ends, they never
tell us.
Even Leibniz (1646-1716), who may truly be called
the founder of the Science of Language, seems rather
an unwilling witness to the inseparableness of language
and thought. In his " Dialogue on the connexion be-
tween things and words," he says " It troubles me great-
ly to find that I can never acknowledge, discover or
prove any truth except by using in my mind words or
other signs." To which his friend answers : " Nay, if
these characters were absent, we should never think or
reason distinctly."
While Locke and Leibniz were thus constrained,
almost against their will, to admit the impossibility of
thought without language, Berkeley, their worthy con-
temporary and rival, was convinced that words were the
greatest impediment to thought. He became so angry
with language, that in one passage he declared he would
3io
THE OREN COURT.
in his future inquiries make as little use of language as
possible —an Irish bull which was omitted, however,
in later editions of his work.
Hume (1711-1776) agrees with Berkeley that we
possess no general ideas, but particular ones only, to
which a certain term has been annexed which gives
them a more extensive signification. But whether these
terms had any existence before they were thus annexed,
and, what is still more important, whether it is possi-
ble to think without these terms, Hume, so far as I can
see, never declares in any decisive passage of his works.
It is curious that even Kant (1 724-1 S04) should
have said so little on this vital question of all philosophy.
He calls language the greatest, but not the only instru-
ment of thought; he admits that without expressions
accurately corresponding to their concepts, we cannot
become quite intelligible either to ourselves or to others.
He declares in one passage that to think is to speak with
one's self. But from the very cursory nature of these
remarks, we may safely conclude that the problem which
occupies us at present, did not excite his special interest,
but took its place as part and parcel of the more general
problems of his philosopy.
But while Kant thus disappoints us, his townsman,
Hamann (1 730-1 7SS), a man of wonderful genius,
though little known outside Germany, utters no uncer-
tain sound. " Language " he says, " is not only the
foundation for the whole faculty of thinking, but the
central point also from which proceeds the misunder-
standing of reason by herself." And again, " With me
the question is not, What is reason? but, What is lan-
guage? What we want is a Grammar of Reason."
The greatest minds of Germany were all at that
time approaching nearer and nearer to the truth, I mean
to a perception of the absolute identity of language and
reason. Herder (1744-1S03) declares his conviction that
" without language man could never have come to his
reason," and I do not hesitate to add, that, without
language man could never have come even to his senses.
William von Humboldt (1767-1S35), the greater of a
par nobilefratrum, wrote: "If we separate intellect and
language, such a separation does not exist in reality."
Schleiermacher (176S-1S34), the translator of Plato,
and at that time the most powerful among liberal-
minded German theologians, chimes in with a still
clearer note: " Thinking and speaking," he says, " are so
entirely one that we can only distinguish them as
internal and external, nay even as internal every thought
is already a word."
The two most prominent leaders of philosophical
thought in the beginning of our century, Schelling and
Hegel, divided as they were on many other points, are
quite at one on the identity of reason and language.
Schelling O775-1S54) says: "Without language it is
impossible to conceive philosophical, nay, even any
human consciousness." Hegel ( 1770-1831) proclaims
his conviction still more boldly and tersely: " We think
in names," he says, as if no one could ever have doubted it.
It may seem a rather violent transition from Hegel
to Alphonse Daudet, but in some cases the man of the
world, and, we must add, the minute observer of the
world, may catch glimpses of truth which either escape
the metaphysician altogether, or are at all events not
apprehended by him at their realistic fulness. When
Daudet wrote his Roianestar, it is well known that
Gambetta imagined it was aimed at him. He recog-
nized some traits of character in Roumestar which
he had discovered in himself, though he imagined that
nobody else suspected them. One of them was that
Roumestar was unable to think unless he could speak.
After a time Gambetta and Daudet met at a dinner,
given by Hebrard. They sat silent for a time, till at last
Gambetta burst out: "Where did you get the words
which you make Roumestar say, 'if I do not speak I can-
not think.'" Daudet replied, " I invented them." "That
is strange," Gambetta replied. The same evening
Gambetta and Daudet became reconciled. They seemed
to know each other better, and, perhaps, to know them-
selves better — than many philosophers do.
Of course we must make a distinction. Gambetta
felt that he really could not think without speaking,
that is to sav, without speaking in a loud voice.
That was his peculiarity, and it may be a peculiarity
common among the people of the South. What
Schelling and Hegel meant was not that we cannot
think without uttering words, but that we cannot think,
even silently, without words. Savages call that kind
of thinking, speaking in the stomach, and it would be
difficult to find a better name for it.
To return, then, to Schelling and Hegel and their illus-
trious predecessor. I confess that to myself also it has
always seemed incredible that language should ever have
been conceived as something that will exist by itself, apart
from our whole intellectual nature, or that thought, on the
other hand, should have been considered as possible with-
out language. We have only to try the simplest experi-
ment and we shall find that thought, divorced from lan-
guage, is an utter impossibility. We may see a dog,
but if we ask ourselves what it is, if we want to know
what we see, we can answer by the name " dog" only.
Even if we had never seen a dog before, we should still
answer by a name only. We should sav, it is a quad-
ruped, an animal, or a living thing, a something, but we
could do all this by names only, by what the ancients
called Nomina, i. e., gnomina, means of knowledge.
We know, however, what philosophers can achieve,
nay, I believe it would not be difficult to show that the
sway of philosophical mvthology is more powerful even
than that of religious mvthology. Because we have a
name for thought and another for language, therefore,
THE OPEN COURT.
311
it is argued, there must be thought without language
and language without thought. We might argue in the
same way that, because we have a name for the outside
and another for the inside of a thing, therefore there
must be an outside without an inside, and an inside with-
out an outside. We were told at school that the Greeks
must have been very strange people, because they had
but one word for language and thought, namely, Logos,
but that they afterward perceived the folly of their ways
and distinguished between the Logos hvdta&eiog, thought,
and the Logos £Kyoca<6r, language; as if the ancient
Greek conception of language and thought as one, did
not show a far greater insight, a far more powerful
grasp than the later distinction, useful as it is, between
the outside and inside of thought.
However, I can with some effort enter into the mind
of those who, like Berkeley, look upon thought as one
thing and on the sounds which we call words as quite
another. It is a kind of philosophical hallucination,
but there is at all events some method in it. What I
cannot understand is, how philosophers can halt between
these two opinions, how they can admit that most of
our thoughts are carried on in language, but not quite
all; that most people think in words, but not all; that
complex arguments may require words, but not simple
propositions. What should we say of a mathematician
who maintained that for simple addition and subtraction
he did not require numbers, but that thev were indis-
pensible for higher mathematics. I need hardly sav
that when I speak of words, I include other signs like-
wise, such as figures, for instance, or hieroglyphics, or
Chinese and Accadian symbols. All I maintain is, that
thought cannot exist without signs, and that our most
important signs are words.
Among modern English logicians there is a curious
lack of courage on this point. The only one who has
what is now called the courage of his opinions, is Arch-
bishop Whately. He declares without any reservation that
logic is entirely conversant with language. All the rest
shake their heads from one horn of the dilemma to the
other. Sir William Hamilton deems Whately's opinion
too absurd to be imputed to an archbishop. John Stuart
Mill, though in this case less bold than the archbishop,
stands up for him so far at least as to try to convince
Sir William Hamilton that the formation of concepts
and the subsequent process of combining them as argu-
ments, must be considered as a process of language.
But Mill himself, in his great work on logic, cannot
muster the same courage as Whately. " Reasoning,"
he says, " the principal subject of logic, takes place
usually by means of words, and in all complicated cases
can take place in no other way." But by what other
way it can ever take place he never shows. He calls
language one of the principal elements or helps of
thought, but he never mentions any other helps or
instruments. He speaks of the reasoning of brutes, but
forgets that this is but a metaphorical expression, and
that we know nothing of the inside of brutes, except
by analogy. He mistakes the abbreviated or silent rea-
soning of man for reasoning without words, though he
would easily have seen that in substituting algebraic or
logarithmic signs for the ordinary figures, the mathema-
tician is dealing indirectly with numbers and with num-
bers only.
The same uncertainty pervades nearly all our hand-
books of logic. Archbishop Thomson follows indeed
the good example of Archbishop Whately, when he
says that we get entangled in absurdities by any theory
which assumes that either thought or language existed
in a separate state, but he shrinks from drawing the con-
clusion, that logic deals with language and with lan-
guage only.
Mr. Jevons cannot bring himself to say that we
never think without words, but, as a cautious reasoner,
he adds, " Hardly ever do we think without the proper
words coming into the mind."
Professor Fowler seems inclined to follow Arch-
bishop Whately. "Practically" he says, "we always
think by means of language;" yet, he adds, " a logician
need not come to a decision on this point." Can there
be a more vital question for a logician than this? Would
any writer on Optics venture to say: " Practically we
see with our eyes, but the optician need not make up
his mind on this point." Professor Green, a very honest
and straightforward thinker, is affected by the same
hesitation. " It is hard," he writes, " some say it is im-
possible, to think without expressing thought in lan-
guage."
To me it seems inconceivable how any philosopher,
that is to say, a student of thought, can leave such a
question undecided. I can understand, as I said before,
certain minds being so completely under the spell of
philosophical mythology as to find it impossible to con-
ceive that thought, which has a name of its own, should
not have a separate existence, apart from language.
The ancient nations, because they had called the Un-
known by many names, became polytheists, and power-
ful thinkers only, such as y*£schylus, could perceive be-
hind the many names, the one God. But what I cannot
understand is how people could be half polytheists, half
monotheists, or, as applied to thought, how they could
bring themselves to believe that thought, though gen-
erally embodied in language, could from time to time
walk about as a disembodied ghost. I have myself not
the slightest doubt that the time will come when this
belief in disembodied thought will be looked upon as
one of the strangest hallucinations of the nineteenth
century. People do no longer believe in witches, nor
in ghosts. But the belief in disembodied thought will
die very hard, nay history teaches us, that though it was
312
THE OPEN COURT.
scotched by some of our most powerful thinkers, it al-
ways raises its head again and again. If anything can
o-ive it its coup de grace, it is the Science of Languages
though, strange to say, some of the most popular rep-
resentatives of that science are against us. Here, as
elsewhere, we must have the courage of our opinions.
We must make no concessions. We must say " Never,"
not " Hardly ever," and this " Never," I feel convinced,
will mark a new departure in the history of philosophy,
nay it will supply a new foundation for every system of
philosophy which the world has ever known.
THE WORLD'S SUN AND SAVIOR.
BY RICHARD A. PROCTOR.
There is a passage in Renan's Vie de jfesus relating
to the worship of Mithras which, at a first reading,
appears almost like a jest. After describing the attrac-
tion which this cult seemed to have for the various
nations and races under the government of Rome, he
goes on to say that he has sometimes permitted himself
the thought that, had not the religion of Christ become
predominant, the religion of Mithras would now be the
worship prevalent throughout the world. Considering
that the religion of Mithras was unquestionably the wor-
ship of the sun, what Renan thus said sounds to the
average Christian, to whom the religion of Christ is the
worship of God the Son, as incongruous and outrageous
as it would seem to the average Briton or American to
be told that, had not English become the predominant
business language, Hawaiian would have prevailed as
the business language of the world. But the apparent
wildness of Renan's remark disappears when we recog-
nize the evidence which shows its unquestionable justice.
The people under Roman sway turned as eagerly toward
sun-worship in its various forms as the people of Israel
turned to the cognate worship of the host of heaven.
And even as it is by no means clear that the Israelites
ever really escaped from the Sabaism of their forefath-
ers, seeing that to this day the whole ceremonial of the
Jewish religion is obviously based on, if it is not actually
the same as that employed in, the worship of the heav-
enly host, so it is by no means certain that the races
which embraced Christianity really gave up sun-wor-
ship, seeing that not only do all the days and seasons,
with most of the observances of sun-worship, remain in
Christian ceremonial, but the whole story of the sun is
retained in two at least of the gospel records of the life
of Christ. In fact it might be suggested, without any
violent improbability, that the struggle between the
religion of Christ and the religion of Mithras, considered
by Renan, was only one form of sun-worship prevailing
over another, the worship of Serapis overcoming the
worship of Mithras. There is a passage in a letter of
the Emperor Hadrian not so often quoted as the very
doubtful testimony of Tacitus, hut much more significant
and having the advantage of being certainly genu-
ine, in which he specially states that the Christians, as
he had known them in Egypt, were worshipers of
Serapis, the sun-god, and that their chief priests were
known as "bishops of Christ!"
It may be remarked just here that now when the
doctrine of evolution modifies all our views respecting
the progress of'' nations and races, not only in civiliza-
tion and culture but also in morals and in religious ideas,
there is nothing surprising in the presence of very
decided traces of nature-worship in all modern forms of
religion. The wonder, indeed, would be great if no
such traces could be recognized. For while it is certain
that apart from a supernatural revelation (in which, I
suppose, no intelligent reasoner can now believe) every
race which passes beyond a certain stage of culture must
attain to sun-worship as the highest and purest form of
nature-worship, it is well known that no matter how
religion itself may change, religious ceremonial can
scarcely ever be modified. Moreover it is observable
of all forms of religion and of all moral teachings, that
no matter what the real history of their founder, the
story of the sun, most impressive of all nature's myths,
was invariably combined, sooner or later, with the nar-
rative of his life. So was it with Confucius, with
Zoroaster, with Gautama; and it is natural that so also
it would be with Christ. Precisely as in the second cen-
tury the writers or compilers of the gospels according to
(but certainly not by) Matthew, Mark and Luke mixed
up with the account of one Jesus events which, as every
reader of Josephus can perceive, really belonged to the
history of other men (most of them also named Jesus),
some of whom were alive when Jerusalem fell (or more
than a generation after the death of Pontius Pilate), so
those same writers or compilers deemed it necessary to
show also that all the remarkable signs, tokens and
events belonging in the ancient solar religions to the
successive sun-gods appeared or occurred also in the his-
tory of the Son of God.
That the worship of the sun should prevail for a
long time in the history of each advancing race, after
the earlier and less impressive forms of nature-worship
had in turn prevailed and died out, was altogether
natural. The daily victory of the sun over the powers
of darkness, his triumphant return to power ("rejoicing
as a giant to run his course,") in the midsouthern heavens,
and his slow decadence thence, must early have attracted
the attention of the least observant. It was natural that,
even in that first beginning of solar religion in which
the sun was regarded as god of the day, men should
hail his return with prayer and sacrifice as he
" Flatter'd the mountain tops with sovereign eye,
Kissing with golden face the meadows green,
Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy."
Equally natural was it that, as he sank in the west
THE OPEN COURT.
313
prayer and sacrifice should again be offered, now not in
adoration but in propitiation, lest the wrathful red of the
western skies should portend his angry departure from
the world whose life depended on his beams. With a
slight change we may believe of the respective races
who were the first parents of modern nations what
Blanco White, in a fine sonnet, suggests in regard to the
impossible first parents which were assigned by men
ignorant of biological possibilities to the whole human
race — when those first parents noted the coming on of
night:
" Did they not tremble for this glorious frame,
This wondrous canopy of light and blue?"
So, trembling, they offered propitiatory sacrifices, after
man's way when anxious about his personal welfare.
And a race of priests came into existence, quite as
naturally, who undertook, for a consideration, the
important business of offering the morning sacrifice of
adoration and the evening sacrifice of propitiation.
But, as longer observation showed men the sun as
god of the year, a much more impressive doctrine and
a much more complicated ceremonial came into exist-
ence. By this time, it must be remembered, the influ-
ence of the heavenly bodies — sun, moon, planets and
stars — upon the affairs and fortunes of men and nations
had come to be accepted by all. It is difficult for us to
realize the confidence with which our own forefathers
as well as those of all other races, accepted this doctrine.
Nowadays none but the ignorant and unwise believe in
astrology, and none but rogues pretend to believe,
but in remote times, and thence onward through the
beginnings and developments of the religions even of
to-day, faith in the influences of the heavenly bodies
was almost universal. When this was so — when the
star-strewn heavens by night and the wondrous canopy
of light and blue by day were men's temple, before as
yet the sun and moon and planets had descended from
their dignity as gods — can we wonder that the annual
progress of that sun-god, whose glory meant life, while
his departure to the gloomy cave of winter meant death,
should be watched with special interest, alternating
between anxiety and hope, by all men? The story of
the sun-god as the savior of men was repeated every
year before men's eyes, though only the priests who
were practiced astronomers could tell the exact times
when he passed the chief stages of his career.
Consider the life of the sun as god of the year, and
we can see a reason for every detail in the ancient solar
myths and in the records of the life of the various sun-
gods.
Begin with the failing of the power of the sun dur-
ing the autumn months — for we cannot rightly under-
stand the meaning of the sun of a new year until we
have considered the feelings with which in old times
men must have watched the gradual departure (as it
seemed) of the mid-day sun from the region of glory
he had occupied in the midsummer heavens. Day by
day toward the time of the autumnal equinox the mid-
day sun sinks lower and lower. Nay, as day follows
day his rate of sinking grows more and more rapid, his
diurnal arc from the eastern to the western horizon
grows shorter and shorter, until the roughest instru-
mental means — dial, shadow-throwing obelisk or what
not — shows how the mid-day strength of the sun- cod
is waning. A fit time this for sacrifice and prayer, for
sacrifice of thanksgiving because of the work the wan-
ing sun has clone, the beneficence he has displayed dur-
ing the months of summer; but a time also for sacrifice
of propitiation lest the sun-god should depart in anger
from the world. We see the clearest traces of the
diverse feelings with which men watched the retreat of
the sun in autumn toward the gloom of winter in the
Feast of Tabernacles celebrated by the Jews at this sea-
son, a feast rivaled only in importance and duration by
the Feast of the Passover in spring, and in the Fast of
the Atonement, the most characteristic feature, perhaps,
of all the Jewish ceremonial system. I am told that to
this day the Jews regard the due observance of this day
of mourning and lamentation as the most marked duty
of the year. Now, as of old, though no longer in the
same way, the soul that does not mourn and lament on
this great fast day is cut off from among the people.
And doubtless in the far-off days, when in lamentation
on this day the people appealed to the retreating sun-
god, at the time when his retreat seemed most rapid, to
return to them, it was a solemn duty on the part of each
member of the community to join in the prayers and
lamentations by which they hoped to prevail on their
god to return to them.
Thenceforward, as week after week and month after
month, measured by the orb that ruled their night (the
Measurer, as they called her)' passed on, the}' found
their god sinking lower and lower. Shamash, Shem-
shin, Samson, the power whose might lay in his rays,
was shorn of his beams by Delilah, the gathering gloom
of winter. Yet there remained this to encourage hope
of his restoration: daily he sank lower and lower, but
each day he sank less than the preceding. At last it
seemed as though when men's hearts had sunk lowest
(for the bulk of the community would know nothing
of those tokens of return which would seem clearest to
the astronomers, their priests), he ceased to sink any
lower. The sun of the old year had reached that point
where his career ends, and lo! such life as remained in
him was to be passed on to his son. The threatened
desolation was to be averted. The priests recognized
the approaching advent of the Savior of the world. As
day by day they watched at this season of the winter
solstice, the most delicate observations possible in those
days disclosed no evidence of the return of the sun to
3M
THE OPEN COURT.
mid-day power; the sun stood still. And to the thought-
ful mind there is much significance in the continued use
of the word solstice, seeing that the sun does not, in the
astronomical sense, even appear to stand still. We see
how much attention the astronomer of old directed to
the sun at mid-day when we find a word strictly
referring to the sun's mid-day height still used as if it
referred to the sun's course along his yearly apparent
path.
At last, three or four days after the winter solstice,
it became clear not only that the sun had ceased to sink
lower, but that he had even begun to pass higher at his
mid-day culmination. His places of rising and of set-
ting were also now manifestly slowly shifting from their
most southerly positions back toward east and west
respectively. But not until the heliacal rising of a cer-
tain star gave the desired astronomical evidence of the
return of the sun to his new year place could the astro-
nomical priests announce the birth of the sun-god. Then
they proclaimed the nativity of the Savior of the
threatened world ; for then these magi could announce
that they had seen his star in the east, heliacally rising
before him, standing over the place (the "cave," as the
unseen half and the southern half of the celestial sphere
were alike called) where the Savior was born. The
Virgin (constellation and sign both) in those days was in
the west, with upraised arms stretched toward her son,
fading out of view and sinking below the horizon as day
advanced.
Thenceforward, day by day, week by week, month
by month the youthful sun-god increased in strength and
wisdom (in the power of his heat, in the glory of his
light) till at length the time came when he was to pass
from the winter half of the celestial sphere, crossing the
mystic circle which divides that half from the region of
the sun's glory and might in summer. At that crossing
— that passover, that crucifying — came naturally the
most solemn festival of the whole year. Associated
with the moon's movements (for so only could months
be determined) its astronomical character to this day
attests its actual origin. The same priests who had pro-
claimed the birth of the sun-god proclaimed his rising
above the great dividing circle. The sun is risen, he is
risen indeed. Forty days (such seems to have been the
special time appointed for watching his approach to this
critical circle) they had observed him nearing it; now
for forty days more they watched him moving along
what is still called right ascension, and is still measured
by astronomers from this very crossing place. Then, and
then only, his ascension was completed (and Ascension
Day still measures forty days from Easter). Thereafter
he passed to his throne of glory in the midrealm of the
heaven father.
And so year by year the story of the sun-god was
repeated, and the festivals and fasts, the sacrifices and
prayers were renewed till they entered into the very life
of the people, never to be given up, no matter what
changes might come over their forms of belief.
CHATS WITH A CHIMPANZEE.
BY MONCURE D. CONWAY.
Part V.
On going to my tryst next day I was stopped by a
policeman, who informed me that Lord and Lady
Somebody and Maharajah Somebodyelse and their
suite were visiting the Monkey Temple. I lost nearly
an hour of my Chimpanzee in this way. When at
length this fine party came out to their sedans they looked
to me — the English especially — like tawdrily dressed
creatures carried about as a show. Monkeys are
carried about in some cities, but so much had my respect
grown for monkeys that these visitors, still laughing at
the monkeys, without in the least comprehending them,
seemed, for the moment, the inferior order. The illu-
sion was heightened by the absurdity that such com-
monplace people should possess the privilege of seeing
others kept at a distance from any place where they
wished to move. I could not help growling in this way,
and before I knew what I was doing began on an
unpolite quotation from Shakespeare about " man,
proud man, drest in a little brief authority," plunging
on to the words, " like an angry ape," before I realized
how personal the similitude was.
" I really beg your pardon," I cried.
"Go on with the quotation," said the Chimpanzee
" I like the phrase."
'"Like an angry ape, plays such fantastic tricks
before high heaven as make the angels weep; who,
with our spleens, would all themselves laugh mortal.' "
"Good!" cried the Sage. " That writer's memory
ran a long way back. The man drest in brief author-
ity and of fantastic tricks was actually evolved from
the Angry Ape."
"Why angry?"
"Ah well, I must leave much to your imagination.
You will bear in mind that mankind were developed
from a monkey aristocracy. The few first talkers kept
together, mated together, reproduced their superiorities,
and thus an aristocracy of birth was formed."
" I have been taught to resent the idea of hereditary
aristocracy."
" Possibly, but rather, certain historic perversions of
it like the Hindu castes. There can be no real aristoc-
racy except that of birth or heredity. So all would per-
ceive if every superiority attested high birth instead of
the merely accredited birth attesting superiorty. Titled
and crowned people are often low-born. In our antho-
poid commonwealth we had no superiorities; when the
talking aristocracy was formed they began to have
trouble. The power of speech had been really developed
by the continued mating together and interbreeding
THE OPEN COURT.
3i5
of those who approximated articulate utterance.
But these were as yet few compared with the chatter-
ing multitude. The mysterious power of the talkers
excited at once the fear and the jealousy of the masses.
The angry ape appeared at the head of a mob. The
talking aristocracy would have been all slain had they
not been able,, through their power of communication,
to combine more perfectly than the others. Under cer-
tain circumstances, it has been said two and two do not
make four, but forty. So it was when the first talkers
confronted an inarticulate rabble. However,the atmos-
phere of anger became intolerable to the talkers, and
they all fled. They migrated from forest to forest,
hoping that they might find som'e talking tribe to unite
with, for they were too few to hold their own against
the more ferocious animals. One day — so runs the
legend — when they were seated amid the foliage of a
tree they observed a handsome anthropoid animal ap-
proach; he took a palm leaf, on it made some marks
with a stick, then fastened it to a tree and went on his
way. They all got down and examined the leaf, find-
ing on it strange marks of yellow color. They left the
leaf where they found it, resumed their seats in the tree,
and watched to see what would follow. Soon another,
a female even handsomer than he who had marked the
leaf approached, took down the leaf, scrutinized it, then
followed on the exact path the other had gone. There-
on the whole company, after a brief consultation, pur-
sued the solitary figure and surrounded her. They
treated her gently, and, when her fears were soothed,
found that she could talk a little — less than themselves.
But she had a talent which they had not ; she could
make marks on any surface corresponding to sounds she
uttered. She made them understand that she was one of
a small company which had developed a power of com-
municating silently by these marks on leaves, and who,
like themselves, had become objects of jealousy and
fear to their tribe. They, too, had become exiles. She
guided the company to her friends; these talkers and
writers became allies, and together they went on a pil-
grimage to find other allies of similar advancement.
They found a few here and there, and at length had
gathered a sufficient number to form a powerful tribe.
Now, it had become, among all the monkey tribes, a
rumor, then a tradition, that somewhere there existed a
society of nobler beings, a realm of angels. The talking
and writing people in the distance were thus dreamed of
among the lower tribes ; but whenever any one was found
among them developing these angelic powers, he was
slain, or had to fly. Such exiles sometimes found their
way to the nobler commonwealth.
"You will observe that by so steadily exiling or
slaying their superior minds the old ape tribes doomed
themselves to remain apes. The race of inferior monkeys
has been developed from those who rendered progress
impossible. The survival of the fittest for preserving
their old social order became their principle of existence.
On the other hand the exiles drew to themselves every
variation and improvement which had excited the fear
or jealousy of their fellows. Some of these variations
were intellectual, others physical. Two or three would
come bringing an improved heel, others a rudimentary
thumb, yet others a shapelier nose or chin. It had
been gradually recorded on palm leaves that these pecu-
liarities could he transmitted to children. Certain
scribes were appointed to observe and register the
results of mating one superiority with another. Nat-
ural affections followed the lines of improvement so indi-
cated, and any affections contrary to the laws formed by
experience died out — as now, in Christian societies, sex-
ual feeling between brother and sister has been extir-
pated. Here, too, as already mentioned in the case of
an earlier phase, freedom was the great factor in the evo-
lution. So long as the principle of selection was purely
and exclusively determined bj' improvement of the race
there being no restriction whatever for the sake of any
god — the evolution was rapid. The progress to
humanity was by grand leaps. As in the case of
speech, obtained by an infinitesimal change of form,
leading on infinite effects, each subsequent attainment
surrounded itself with a new world. Take this city of
Benares; within my memory it has been transformed
from a village to a city. By what means? By a
kettle of water. One man put a valve on it that
would bind or loose its vapor at will. Another set
the kettle on wheels and called it a steam engine.
The face of the world is changed. That kind of thing
happened millions of times. Each little step taken
opened a world of resources, with powers to utilize
them. Man was developed.
" But as the first developed talkers and writers had
been comparatively few, so the first men were compar-
atively few; and these, like their forerunners, were pur-
sued by fear and jealousy of the half-humanized. In
this higher commonwealth the dismal storv of the
anthropoid tribe was repeated. The aristocracies of
intelligence and beauty were forced to flee, and in the
end formed a society which began the works of human
civilization. So it went on for ages. The ape seemed
to have died out of this new form. He might reappear
in the fantastic tricks of boys, but education soon bound
him. But, alas, though physically bound he survived
morally, and, in the further progress of the human
society, made himself felt. For man found himself
surrounded by obstructions and enemies. Serpents,
wild beasts, diseases, hurricanes, drouth and famine
beset him. He fought these bravely and steadily made
headway against them until it unfortunately occurred to
some of the least courageous to try and explain them
metaphysically. Now there had been preserved from
3i6
THE OPEN COURT.
their ancient apehood a tradition of the wrathful
gorillas or other creatures against which the more
human forms had been defended. In dreams the hated
and hunted ancestors of humanity have been haunted by
visions of the Angry Ape. There now arose some mys-
tery men who ascribed outward reality to the vision
coined by fear, and imagined that there must be a gigantic
Ape, creator and god of apes, who was angry and
jealous at the way in which some of his creatures had
taken the work of creation into their own hands. The
idea once started response came from the closeted ape
lurking in each of the least developed. These now
ascribed thunder and lightning, tempests and diseases, to
the wrath of the Supreme Ape, and there grew a panic-
stricken clamor for men who could pacify the Ape
demon. In response to this clamor appeared the
priesthood.
"The priesthood declared that the jealous and angry
Supreme Ape would destroy them all unless they gave
him the larger part of their food, and built temples to
him, and in these supported a large number of men to
kneel before him, acknowledge his supremacy, and sing
his praises all the time. I have somewhere one of the
litanies to the Eternal Ape."
" I should much like to see it," said I.
The Chimpanzee went off and returned with some
very old and dry palm-leaves, from which he read me
the following
LITANY TO THE HOLY APE.
O, Ape of Apes, we acknowledge Thee to be our Creator and
Ruler!
Thou art angry with us nearly every day.
Just art Thou, visiting our sins upon our children.
Thou art so very, very just!
Anger is thy customary attitude.
Thou art angry that we should keep Thee angry.
We have wickedly eaten the fruit of knowledge. Mad art Thou!
We have walked in the light of our own eyes. Mad art Thou!
We have followed the guidance of our own hearts. Mad art Thou!
We have set before us the wisdom of man instead of fear of Thee.
Mad art Thou!
We have not remembered that the wisdom of man is foolish-
ness to the Great Ape. Mad art Thou!
Thou god of wrath !
Thou jealous god !
Thou god of battles !
Almighty Gorilla!
The sun is Thy throne and the sun- stroke Thy sceptre.
Whirlwinds are wheels of Thy chariot.
Common sense cannot stand before Thy uncommon abilities.
Thou sendest Thy plagues and our reason is silenced.
The thunder is Thy argument.
The logic of Thy lightning is irresistible.
Weak-minded were he who would withstand the persuasiveness
nl' Thy pestilences.
Pity, Everlasting Ape, our inherited depravity, our tendency to
think for ourselves!
Through accursed human knowledge we have strayed from Thy
ways like lost monkeys.
Yet, O Holy Ape, much of the monkey is left in us still.
We can still turn from the tree of knowledge to the tree on
which cocoanuts grow.
Though we look like men not much of the spirit of men is left
in us.
We will part with all of it if Thou wilt smile on us.
Thou shalt have our virgins, or Thy priests shall.
Also, two-thirds of our wool.
Likewise of our bread and butter.
All who deny Thee shall be roasted.
Only spare us, spare us, Holy, Eternal, Omnipotent Ape!"
"Good God!" cried I with excitement, as the Chim-
panzee ceased.
"Good God!" said he, looking around. "Who is
he?"
" It was only an exclamation," I answered; "never-
theless— "
But before I could enter upon any theistic discus-
sion a gust of wind, from a storm whose rising we had
not noticed, broke through the court and scattered the
litany leaves. They were tossed among the monkeys
who found great fun in chasing them. The happy
possessors of the inscribed leaves perched themselves
at various points, when, surrounded by eager groups
they played with their treasures. But the leaves were
very ancient and dry, and in a few moments thev were
all reduced to fine dust. Just then a great crash of
thunder came, and my old Chimpanzee looked up with
a twinkling eye.
"O Angry Ape," he cried, "you have overdone it
this time with your fantastic tricks, and puffed out of
the world your last litany."
" I am not so sure of that," I remarked.
DEMOCRATIC THEORY AND PRACTICE.
BY W. L. GARRISON, JR.
In considering the right and the necessity of admitting
women to the franchise — opening the door of opportu-
nity to the hitherto suppressed majority — the still
larger question of universal suffrage presents itself. It
may safely be affirmed that many advocates of woman
suffrage are unprepared to accept the logical conse-
quences of their principles. The line must be drawn
somewhere, but each disfranchised class would diaw it
so as to include itself, whatever becomes of those left
shivering outside of the body politic. When it was
proposed to admit the freedmen to citizenship, there
were women of prominence who would have presented
the precedence of the negro. The plea was plausible
that the educated women were much better fitted to
vote intelligently than the imbruted product of slavery,
and only political necessity forced the ballot into black
hands, as the same necessity had already compelled Mr.
Lincoln to proclaim emancipation.
A recent writer in the North American Review has
called attention to the varied and unequal laws that
determine the right of suffrage in the different States
and Territories. No uniformity prevails. Whatever
THE OPEN COURT.
317
may be our Fourth-of-July opinions regarding demo-
cratic institutions, the fact remains that the democratic
theory of the founders of the republic is as little
regarded in practice as was the Declaration of Inde-
pendence in the days of slavery. Therefore the oft-
heard, doleful complaints or predictions of the failure of
a republican form of government, and the assertion that
our democratic experiment is on trial, may be truthfully
met by the affirmation that the world has never had a
republican form of government, and the only thing on
trial is the usurpation which calls itself a democracy.
Why be deceived by names? Until the right of
the most ignorant, the poorest and even the immoral to
be represented at the ballot-box equally with the learned,
the rich and the virtuous is acknowledged, we fall short
of the saving theory that "government derives its just
power from the consent of the governed." Otherwise
the unfortunate classes alluded to must be excepted
from the definition of people. When Mr. Lincoln
characterized our government as "of the people, by the
people and for the people," who can suppose that he
meant to eliminate the very ones whose hope and
encouragement lay in self-government?
In nearly all governments recognizing the mon-
archical theory, wealth and learning have known how to
protect themselves. Unprotected, unrepresented and
uncared for, except in so far as they could be used to
serve and profit the powerful classes, the common peo-
ple have toiled, and suffered and died. Democracy is
the final attempt of human nature to vindicate its own
dignity and trustworthiness. From immemorial times
the government of the many by the few has been the
rule. Under the plea of divine right, or personal might,
or the natural order of society, tyrants have been in the
saddle, and the mass of mankind have been trodden in
the dust. Democracy proclaims the inherent and
natural rights of every being wearing the human form.
No person, however lowly, however unlearned, how-
ever lacking in virtue through ignorance can rightfully
be excluded in choosing the rulers of all. The only
basis of self-government is abiding faith in humanity,
and a recognition that all human growth tends heaven-
ward as naturally as plants seek the light.
These axiomatic truths need emphasizing nowhere
more emphatically than in this republic, where with the
increase of material comfort and education comes also
the assumption of the rich and educated that they alone
should control the franchise. One wearies of the fash-
ionable objection to giving woman her political rights,
everywhere offered by those enjoying the prerogative,
that "we have too wide suffrage already; it should be
limited rather than extended." No voter has ever yet
been discovered who unselfishly says " as suffrage is too
broad, therefore, deprive me of my right to vote." Test
him by that proposition and he talks of the tea-party in
Boston Harbor and of Bunker Hill. The divine right
of the royal family of Russia to govern is not more an
article of faith with the Czar, than is the conviction of
the legal voter of the United States in his divine rio-ht
to the ballot.
Is it not, therefore, the most effective way of liber-
ating woman to strike for the right of every human
being governed, to have his voice represented and
recorded at the polls, with only the acknowledged
exceptions which bear unfairly on no one? Of course
it is necessary to agree that an arbitrary limit of ao-e
must govern the admission to citizenship, although we
admit that many under the prescribed age may be more
competent to vote than many above it. The rule savors
neither of injustice nor proscription.
A proper rule of probation for foreigners before
voting is justifiable. Otherwise elections might be car-
ried by importations of people who had no purpose to
remain; but foreigners intending to become bona fide
citizens need not be long excluded. The feeble-minded
and the insane have no opinion to be recorded, and the
criminals, having deliberately violated laws in whose
making or retention they have an equal voice with all
others, have forfeited, for a period at least, their rio-ht to
be consulted. Having proclaimed themselves enemies
to society by their acts, they cannot justly complain if
society protects itself by excluding them from it.
With these exceptions can a true democracy debar
from citizenship even its most unpromising members?
At present the artificial line of sex is drawn in all the
States, with partial exceptions of a limited nature in a
few. In Rhode Island property qualifications obtain;
in other States educational tests are used, and race differ-
ences are an excuse for disfranchisement.
The legal inability arising from sex is receiving too
wide-spread discussion to need any consideration here.
The near and complete recognition of woman's equal
citizenship is certain.
The property qualification has not made Rhode
Island a model of self-government, and its speedy aboli-
tion is a foregone conclusion. Virtue and povertv are
not incompatible, and wealth is often the possession of
the ignorant. An educational test can be urged with
more show of reason, but will not bear examination. It
is preparing one to swim while prohibiting him from
the water. Liberty is the only possible preparation for
liberty, and to borrow Mr. Lowell's admirable state-
ment, "the best way to teach a man how to vote is to
give him the chance to practice." The disfranchisement
of vice is impossible because a moral test is impossible,
excepting at the line of law breaking. Rags and
squalor are deceptive tests, as the distinguished bank-
presidents and mill-treasurers resident in our State prisons
demonstrate.
If the democratic theory is true that responsibility
3*8
THE OPKN COURT.
educates, that rights and duties are reciprocal, it is the
very classes which fastidious critics of our form of gov-
ernment would exclude from the polls which most need
to be brought there. Unless the assumption is correct
that the mass of the people are really interested in good
government, if only shown where their interests lie, we
may as well abandon self-government and go back to
"the reign of Chaos and old Night."
The founders of our government probably never
dreamed of the strain our institutions would incur from
the inundation of foreigners, bred under despotism and
precipitated en masse into our politics. That the
system has borne the strain so well, and assimilated
with success such apparently indigestible material, is
proof enough of its vitality and virtue. It takes but a
generation to transform aliens into law-abiding Ameri-
can citizens. The process is not always savory, but the
product repays. It is natural that abuses should be
developed and mistakes made, but as the people cannot
escape payment for them, they learn self-government
most through suffering and discipline.
It cannot be demonstrated that one class was ever
able to understand and represent the needs of another.
No matter what sophistry is offered in its justification it
is a power that cannot lie delegated. Every disfran-
chised class in a republic is an oppressed class, be it
women, Indians or Chinese. From national contempt
and hatred the negro has, by virtue of the ballot, gained
the deference of all political parties. Our theory of
government allows no place for disfranchised subjects.
Their existence irritates and festers to the discomfort of
the whole body. The Indian, protected by law through
the constitutional method of the ballot, and subject to its
enactments, loses his dangerous nature and becomes
harmless as a citizen. The poultice of suffrage allays
the sore of barbarism, and justice is a better safeguard
than armies. Our Chinese population awaits the same
remedy, and American politicians will yet study the
language of compliment for the countrymen of Confu-
cius when they cast American votes.
Democracy suffers the penalty of its own disobe-
dience. It cannot have peace or safety while it refuses
to live up to its creed. Deprived of the national
method of expressing dissatisfaction, the disfranchised
find more dangerous vents for their discontent. Suf-
frage is a safety-valve. Dumb abuses grow in silence,
and attain threatening proportions before society is
aware of their existence. Gifted with speech they call
attention to themselves for their own destruction. Sup-
pression in Russia produces dynamite and assassination.
Expression in America secures a guarantee of safety
Siberia cannot give. When New York sends a pugilist
and gambler to represent her in Congress, like pain to
the body, it is the signal that something is wrong, and
the doctors are called in. There should exist no dark
spot in a republic unrepresented. Stifle the political
voice of Five Points, and Fifth Avenue forgets its dan-
gerous neighbor. Allow it utterance, and wealth unites
with philanthropy to extinguish vicious conditions.
The faithless may deplore the broadening of suffrage,
but it is futile to oppose it. To quote again from
Lowell's address on Democracy : " For the question is
no longer the academic one, is it wise to give every
man the ballot, but the practical one, is it prudent to
deprive whole classes of it any longer? It mav be
conjectured that it is cheaper in the long run to lift
men up than to hold them down, and that the ballot in
their hands is less dangerous to society than a sense of
wrong in their heads."
The right to vote once grasped has never been vol-
untarily relinquished, and in spite of pessimism, with
every extension of the franchise, society has rested
more safely on its broadened base. So, however
threatening appear the portents, and however the
tempests roar, the ship of democracv, now too far upon
its course to put back, must
" Right onward drive unharmed.
The port, well worth the cruise, is near
And every wave is charmed."
GOETHE AND SCHILLER'S XENIONS.
BY DR. PAUL CARl'S.
It is well known what good friends Goethe and
Schiller were. After the two great jjoets had become
personally acquainted they inspired, criticised and cor-
rected each other, their common ideal being the firm
basis of their mutual friendship. The chief monument
of their alliance are the Xenions, a collection of satirical
epigrams which were published for the first time in the
Musen-Almanach of 1797.
Goethe and Schiller had many enemies. On the one
side the orthodox and narrow-minded pietists considered
their poetry as irreligious and un-Christian; they accused
them of paganism, while on the other side the shallow
rationalist Nicolai, a man of some common sense but
without any genius, railed at them as well as at Kant,
Fichte and other great minds of his time who went
beyond his depth so as to be incomprehensible to him.
Nicolai was a rich and influential publisher in Ber-
lin; he was an author himself, and a very prolific one
too, but all his writings are barren and shallow. On
several occasions he had severely criticised Goethe, and
our great poet-twins accused him that in fighting super-
stition he attacked poetry, and when he wanted to sup-
press the belief in spirits he tried to abolish spirit also.
So Goethe makes him say in the Walpitrgisnacht :
" Ich sag's Euch Geistern in's Gesicht,
Den GV/s/e.s-Despotismus leid ich nicht;
Mein Geist kann ihn nicht exerciren."
[I tell you, spirits, to your face,
I give to spirit-despotism no place;
My spirit cannot practice it at all.]
— Bayard Taylor's Translation.
THE OPEN COURT.
3X9
In the years 1795 and 1796 Schiller was irritated
because his periodical, Die Horen, had proved a failure,
and Goethe was dissatisfied because his latest publica-
tions had been coolly received in different quarters.
Therefore they decided to wage a destructive war against
their common enemies, and to come down upon them in
a literal'}- thunderstorm. The poets planned in company
a " poetical devilry ," as they called it, and named their
satirical poetry Xenions. Xenion means originally a
present which the host gives to a stranger who enjoys
his hospitality. The Roman poet Martial called his
book of satirical epigrams Xenia ; and, as Goethe and
Schiller intended to deal such epigrammatical thrusts to
Nicolai and other offenders, they accepted Martial's
expression and called their verses Xenions. The first
Xenions were mostly of a personal character, but by and
by they became more general and lost their aggressive-
ness. There are among them many which are lofty and
full of deep thought. The form of the verses is like
their Roman prototype, the distich, i. e., two lines con-
sisting of a dactylic hexameter and a pentameter.
The distich has scarcely, if ever, been used in English
poetry, although there is much classical beauty in its
form. The hexameter is known to Americans from
Longfellow's " Evangeline." The pentameter consists
of twice two and a half, i. e., five, dactylic meters
r_u u-u u-] which are separated by an incision. Instead
of two short syllables there may be always one long
syllable, with the exception of the fifth meter of the
hexameter and the latter half of the pentameter. The
schedule of a distich, accordingly, is like this:
-u~u— uU-u u-u u— u u-u
-lTu-uu- I -u u-u u-
Goethe and Schiller's distichs are not always very
elegant, and sometimes lack in smoothness and correct-
ness. This excited the anger of Voss, the famous trans-
lator of Homer in the original meter of dactylic hex-
ameters. Voss ridiculed Goethe and Schiller for their
bad classical versification in a distich, which he intention-
ally made even worse than the worst of theirs, using the
words with a wrong accentuation:
"In 'Weimar and' in Je ' -na, they make' hexame ' -ters like
this ' one,
But' the Pen ' -tameters' Are' even queer ' -er than this' ."
In spite of some awkwardness and lack of elegance
in diction, the Xenions contain gems which overflow
with sentiment and thought. I select a few of them
which seem to me worth translating.
Schiller says about the dactylic distich and its har-
monious structure:
" In the hexameter rises the iet of a wonderful fountain,
Which then graciously back In the pentameter falls."
Nicolai had attacked Kant's Transcendental Philos-
ophy, according to which the form of thought as well
as of things plays an important part in the explanation
of phenomena. And Schiller, as we know from his
aesthetical essays, considered form to be the spirituality
of the world. The material of a piece of art does not
constitute its value; its form is all-important. Nicolai
cannot appreciate form :
" War he wages against all forms; he during his lifetime
Only with troubles and pain Gathered materials in heaps."
In a scientific essay the subject matter is important in
itself; the style in which it is written may be weak ; per-
haps it does not detract much from the value of such a
work. But in art the form is essential. The idea of a
poem and its diction, a thought and its expression must
form a harmonious unity. The material and its shape
have grown to be one thing. The matter of which a
piece of art consists is forgotten for the sake of its form.
Schiller says, somewhere in his letters on aesthetics:
" The annihilation of matter bv form is the trite secret
of art.^ This explains his distich:
"Truth will be strong although an inferior hand should defend it,
But in the empire of art Form and its contents are one."
Neither Goethe nor Schiller took to the idea of
supernaturalism. If the human mind ventures beyond
nature, it may construct metaphysical systems, but
they stand in empty space. Genius may increase nature
by giving shape and form to it; he impresses the seal of
his individuality upon it, but that is nature also.
" Reason may build above nature, but finds there emptiness only.
Genius can nature increase; But it is nature he adds."
Another double distich on form is the following:
" Good of the good, I declare, each sensible man can evolve it;
But the true genius, indeed, Good of the bad can produce.
Forms reproduced are mere imitation. The genius createth;
What is to others well formed, Is but material to him."
The rule of beauty is oneness, or " unity in variety ":
" Beautv is always but one, though the beautiful changes and
varies
And 'tis the change of the one, Which thus the beautiful
forms."
Nicolai describes in the memoirs of his journeys how
he searched for the fountain-head of the Danube in the
Black Forest. With regard to this a Xenion declares:
" Nothing he likes that is great; therefore, oh! glorious Danube,
Nickel traces thy course Till thou art shallow and flat."
Excellent is the comparison of such a dunce as
Nicolai, or perhaps of another conceited person, to Soc-
rates! The oracle at Delphi pronounced Socrates to be
wise because the philosopher had declared himself to be
ignorant. The distich says:
" Pvthia dubbed him a sage for proudly of ignorance bragging.
Friend, how much wiser art thou? What he pretended,
thou art."
The poets did not even spare their friends; accord-
ing to the ethics of pure reason, that virtue is highest
which is performed against our own inclination. Schil-
ler, though an admirer of Kant, ridicules the rigidity of
his ethics in one of his Xenions. The poet says:
320
THE OPEN COURT.
" Willingly serve I my friends; but 'tis pity, I do it with pleasure.
And I am really vexed, That there's no virtue in me! "
And he answers in a second distich :
" There is no other advice than that you try to despise friends,
And, with disgust, you will do What such a duty
demands."
David Hume's skepticism was in Schiller's time super-
ceded bv Kant's idealism. Hume, being in hades, hears
Kantian philosophers talk. Their ideas are all confusion,
he thinks, and only his own theory is consistent. So
David Hume says to a neophyte:
" Do not speak to those folks, for Kant has confused all together.
Me you must ask; for I am, Even in hades, myself."
A crowd of many people generally behave very
foolishlv, although the single individuals who constitute
the crowd may be quite sensible. This fact has been
often observed, and one of the Xenions says:
" Every one of them, singly considered, is sensible, doubtless,
But, in a body, the whole Number of them is an ass."
Famous is the following distich:
" Science to one is the Goddess, majestic and lofty, — to th' other
She is a cow who supplies Butter and milk for his home."
Often quoted for their ethical value are these
Xenions :
" Art thou afraid of death? thou wishest for being immortal!
Live as a part of the whole, When thou art gone, it
remains." *
" Out of life there are two roads for every one open:
To the Ideal the one, th' other is leading to Death.
Try to escape in freedom as long as you live, on the former,
Ere on the latter you are Doomed to destruction and
death."
"_Truth which injures, is dearer to me than available errors.
Truth will cure all pain, Which is inflicted by truth."
"No one resemble the other, but each one resemble F the
Highest!
How is that possible? Say! Perfect must ev'ry one be."
Grandeur is not a matter of vastness, but of lofti-
ness; not material but spiritual greatness makes sublime:
" Our astronomers say, their science is truly sublimest;
But sublimity, sirs, Never existeth in space."
The poet addresses his Muse:
How I could live without thee, I know not. But horror o'er-
takes me
Seeing these thousands and more Who without thee can
exist."
We conclude with two distichs on religion. Goethe
as well as Schiller were of true religious instinct, but
both were averse to any sectarianism or dogmatical
belief:
" Which religion I have? There is none of all you may mention
Which I embrace; and the cause? Truly, religion it is!"
This religion is, as the poets express it in the above-
quoted distich, to live as a part of the whole, as a part
of humanity. The answer given in the last Xcm'on, we
may well imagine, did not satisfy the narrow-minded
orthodox. They cannot bring forward reasons, but they
say: "Belief is a matter of conscience; if you do not
believe, it is because you do not want to." Of such
people the Xcnion says:
"Well, I expected it so, for, if they have nothing to answer,
Then they immediately make Matter of conscience of it."
* Mr. E. C. Hegeler requests me to call the attention of the reader to the
importance of this distich. It contains in nuce " the fundamental idea of Mon-
1 he original German is:
Vor dem Tode erschrickst Du! Du wtinschest unsterblich zu leben?
LebimGanzen' Wcnn Du I.ange dahin bist, es bleibt.
This " living immortal " by living in the whole as a part of the whole is the
immortality of the soul Mr. TIegeler spoke of in his essay "The Basis of
Ethics/1 and this idea is the salient point of the Monistic doctrine which the
founder of The Open Covkt has made its standing programme.
"CHRISTIAN SCIENCE."
BY S. V. CLEVENGER, M. D.
The brain being one of a number of associated or-
gans, it is not remarkable that general health or sickness
should affect the mind, nor that mental states should in-
fluence bodily conditions. Hippocrates knew that heart
disease caused anxiety which was expressed in the face,
and everyone knows that the liver difficulty called jaun-
dice is attended with the "jaundiced disposition," and
that the spes filtthisica, a peculiar hopefulness, belongs
to lung consumption.
Hope, fear, joy or grief influence the nutrition of the
body ; a fright may stop the digestion of a meal or cause
death by arrest of the heart's action; joy has been known
to kill, and excitement to impart great temporary
strength. A very superficial examination of certain
anatomical facts will aid the reader to understand this
inter-dependence of mind and body, and intimate the
direction in which the physiological psychologist works.
It is no longer blasphemy to call the heart a pump,
though that is precisely the charge Plempius from his
pulpit made against Harvey for the assertion, nor is it
flying in the face of Providence to speak of the arteries,
capillaries and veins as tubes through which the blood
is pumped by the heart; but when this half knowledge
is built upon by the aid of the microscope, and the ob-
server announces that the entire animal economy is a
mechanism controlled by definite physical and chemical
laws, and apparently nothing else, the olden denuncia-
tions are renewed.
Ever}- portion of the body must have its food, and
the blood current is merely elaborated, diluted, though
concentrated, food, and the nerves and brain require
more of this sustenance than other parts. Consciousness
is lost the instant the brain is not supplied with blood,
whether from heart failure or other cause. Surrounding
the arteries are muscular bands that by contraction and
expansion supplement the heart's action in propelling
the blood onward. If there happen to be irregularity
in the constriction or dilatation of these tubes, through
the tightening or relaxation of the enveloping muscles,
then circulatory aberrations occur, such as congestions,
blushing, flushing, paleness, rapidity or slowness of pulse,
THE OPEN COURT.
321
etc., producing convulsions, apoplexy, paralysis, neural-
gias, faintings; and where these disturbances are limited
to areas instead of being general, certain local effects fol-
low, such as tumors and u'cers.
Toward the gray matter of the brain and spinal
marrow proceed a multitude of sensory nerves, carrying
inward impressions of touch, taste, heat, cold, smell,
si^ht; telegraph lines that relate the individual to the
outer world. From this same gray matter proceed mo-
tor nerves to all the muscles that move the arms, legs,
trunk, head, or that surround the intestines, blood-vessels,
the lung tubules and the glands. An impression that is
unpleasant may pass over some of the sensory nerves
and cause the motor nerves to provoke contractions of
its muscles, which will be evidenced by a start, or spring
backward, a flushed or pallid face, an outpour of per-
spiration from the sweat glands, that are, for the time
being, paralyzed. In countless instances the control of
the body by the nervous system, and in as many more,
the dependence of the nervous system upon the healthy
working of other organs, could be shown; but all these
facts are obtainable by experience and a study of ele-
mentary physiology.
One of the most protean ailments is known as hys-
teria. The sufferer is usually a female and in most
instances has inherited an unstable nervous system, which,
through idleness, social dissipation and the yielding of
relatives to every caprice, becomes confirmed. The er-
ratic working of her circulation may, for awhile, shut
off blood supply from the back part of the brain and
afford hysterical blindness, partial or complete; if the
speech center in front of the left ear be denuded, by
spasm, of blood, then there is "aphonia" or hysterical
speechlessness, or feebleness of voice; erratic blood sup-
ply also causes the "clavus" or hysterical headache;
similar vascillating nutrition to other parts may set up
the breathlessness, even the mucous rattling in the lungs,
that simulates pneumonia, the rapid heart action, the
writhings, contortions of hysterical convulsions or par-
alytic conditions and limb contractions.
Hysterical paralytics have been known to be bed-
ridden for years and upon an alarm of fire spring nimbly
from the house, or after months of successfully main-
tained cramped position of a leg suddenly straighten it
under excitement, or when chloroformed. Minor cases
usually complain of many indefinite things, but major or
minor sufferers invariably react favorably to mental im-
pressions if suitably afforded. For instance, an honest
old physician frankly told the father of an hysterical girl
that nothing but quackery would cure her. Resort was
had to an " Indian doctor," who, with the impressiveness
of his mysterious mumblings, long hair and emphatic
assurances of omnipotence, actually induced her to arise
from bed, restored to health. Years afterward some
ruse the doctor used was injudiciously explained to her
and she at once returned to her bed and became de-
mented. Discipline and education are far better meth-
ods than such deceit.
Many a scientific physician has suffered in his own
esteem upon being credited with some such success, acci-
dentally gained, and many a charlatan has exulted in the
discovery of some such power over cases and marched
to further conquests as a magnetic, magneto-electric,
mesmeric, hypnotic, spiritualistic, faith-healer, or under
some such designation.
Dishonesty and ignorance are not confined to any so-
called school of medicine, and regularly educated physi-
cians may be found who justify their resort to question-
able means of securing fees.
It is not alone the hysterical who are susceptible to
mental influence over diseases. Many a good old prac-
titioner has been told " The very sight of you makes me
better," by persons who could not be classed even as
nervous. It is the unconscious operation of mentality
that occurs every minute of our lives and is most notice-
able when the pull at a dentist's door bell stops a
toothache.
Members of the Chicago Medical Society can tecall
the time when an honest ignoramus detailed his wonder-
ful power in several cases and asked for an explanation
of its source. A better informed physician present sug-
gested that a good-looking doctor was the secret of the
recoveries in the cases described, and advised him to look
up the literature of hysteria.
The history of medicine is full of successive epidemics
of quackery, and undoubtedly during them many cases
have been permanently benefited through emotional
exercise, while more have been temporarily helped.
The old superstition of the kings' ability to cure scrofula
by his touch died out with the advance of knowledge, it
becoming known that most of the applicants for this
species of divine healing did not have the king's evil at
all, and that the coin given to each case attracted ma-
lingerers. Perkins by means of his "tractors," cylinders
of metal held in the hands, "cured " multitudes through-
out Europe. The Grotto of Lourdes, and a dance upon
the tomb of Abelard and Heloise, has enabled many a
cripple to throw away his crutches, but some way or
other such rages die out and people need some new im-
position.
One of the most prolific sources of revenue to every
species of charlatanry, including faith-cure, is mistaken
diagnosis. The cancer doctor removes false cancers
and whenever ignorance pronounces upon the nature of
its own disease, knavery is ready to relieve it of its
troubles and its cash. In this recent puerility called
"Christian Science" we may grant that not all its votaries
are either knaves or fools, for undoubtedly people who
are fairly well informed on most topics, and who are sin-
cere in their belief, practice it, or are practiced upon by
THE OPEN COURT.
it, often with success for the reasons mentioned, but such
people are guiltless of physiological or pathological
knowledge, know nothing of the fundamentals of scien-
tific medicine and can be thus uninformed without de-
serving to be called rascals or generally ignorant.
There seems to be bitter internecine war among these
Christian healers, for Mr. Teed, who claims to be the
Messiah, does not disdain to touch the patient, while
other " metaphysicians" do not find the contact neces-
sary. Some contributor to Mr. Teed's journal perti-
nently asks how it is possible for faith healers to acquire
all this wonderful power in twelve lessons regardless of
their being atheists, illiterate, impure or the reverse.
" Christian Science" can effect cures in many hyster-
ical cases, particularly headaches and some minor troubles
that are not hysterical, but that can be reached through
a mental impression ; but of course belief is a sine qua
non. That or any other species of medical nonsense can
"cure" self limited diseases which will recover if left to
themselves. The post hoc ergo propter hoc delusion is
constantly held up to the student of medicine to warn
him that he must not think a recovery to be a cure in
every case, but the "metaphysician" is bothered by no
such misgiving. Mumps will recover in a week; even
typhoid fever and rheumatism in six weeks if not treated
at all, possibly scarlatina or small-pox, but it is better to
aid recovery by the exercise of a little medical common
sense.
It would be safe to offer a reward of a million dol-
lars for any "metaphysical" cure of a genuine cancer,
a real migraine, an actual lung consumption or even a
positive corn, not to mention the amputation of a leg or
the reduction of a dislocation.
Occasionally we hear of actual failures of Christian
Science and owing to the very materialistic views of the
educated physician he is not surprised at such failures
any more than at the inability of that "science" to faith-
cure a leak}' water pipe, without a plumber, or to faith-
cure into solidity one of Budensick's wrecked houses,
for when Bright's disease means that the kidneys are
disintegrating, and dropsy follows from this or a badly
disorganized heart, which does not pump blood to the
kidneys, and when gangrene or decay of the body,
usually the legs, follows from the little tubules or capil-
laries being plugged up or not conveying the needed
nutrition to parts, the aforesaid physician cannot possibly
conceive of faith, or mummery of any kind, restoring
these tissues any more than it can build a house or pump
out a sinking ship.
The following was clipped from the Chicago Evening Mail, and is very
much to the point, while it accounts for the special mentions of dropsy and
gangrene made above:
Kansas City, Mo., June 10.— The death of Mis. Hannah Updike, from
dropsy and gangrene, while in the hands and under the care of believers in the
Christian science, rr taith cure, is exciting no end of comment in this city.
Mr-. Updike was the wife <>f a well known stockman of Toneka, and was
brought here and placed under the care of the faith healers eight days ago, at
her own request. She was suffering from dropsv and gangrene. The doctors
had pronounced her case incurable. Before death gangrene had spread over an
entire limb. From the time she was given up to the care of the faith healers
all medicines, even opiates, were stopped. She was constantly surrounded by a
half-dozen or more believers, who in the midst of her terrible agonies urged her
to believe and she would certainly be cured. At midnight, Mrs. Kunice Behan,
one of the party, stood over her and declared that "disease must succumb to
the fiat of the mind." At 12:45 Mrs. Updike was dead, and Mrs. Houston, the
nurse of the healers, brushed back the hair from her cold forehead, and said,
sadly, "She surrendered hope to fear."
A few hours before her death her agony was so great that her husband,
against the protests of the others present, gave her an opiate. "We told him
not to do it," said one of the attendants. ' It was recognizing the power of
fear over the mind. It also dulled the mind, and prevented it from rebelling
with all its power against the results o( latent fear, which we hold is made
manifest on the body in different forms of disease."
"Did you know she was dying? ' a reporter asked.
"The mind can rise above all emergencies," was the only response.
As an excuse for not summoning a physician to at lease relieve the intense
pain of her dying hours one of the healers said: " Mrs. Updike became a true
believer in the cure of Christian science. We are censured for not calling ir a
physician, but had we done so it would have been a recognition of the fact
that some material injury existed. This would have spoiled the Christian
science cure."
In speaking of the case Dr. Ellston said: "I consider that criminal ignor-
ance was displayed in the treatment of this case. The law, however, has no
provision for punishing ignorance."
THE MODERN SKEPTIC.
BY JOHN BURROUGHS.
Pari II.
The wise skeptic also sees that faith or supersti-
tion, rather than reason, must be the guide of the mass
of mankind. What Strabo said nineteen centuries ago
still holds true. "It is impossible," said the old Greek,
"to conduct women and the gross multitude, and to
render them holy, pious and upright by the precepts of
reason and philosophy ; superstition or the fear of the gods
must be called in aid, the influence of which is founded
on fiction or prodigies. For the thunder of Jupiter,
the aegis of Minerva, the trident of Neptune, the
torches and snakes of the Furies, the spears of the gods
adorned with ivy,, and the whole ancient theology are
all fables which the legislators who formed the politi-
cal constitution of States employ as bugbears to overawe
the credulous and simple."
But from the point of view of the individual, of a
serene, well-balanced, well-ordered life, reason is the
best. "Prove all things, hold fast that which is good,"
is the voice of the cool, disinterested reason, directed
to the individual. And when one sets out to prove
all things, what guide can he have other than reason?
This is " the light that lighteneth every man that
cometh into the world," this and conscience; but in
the region of speculative opinion and belief, conscience
plays a very subordinate part. "Few minds in earn-
est," says Cardinal Newman, in his Apologia, "can
remain at ease without some sort of rational grounds
for their religious belief, to reconcile theory and fact is
almost an instinct of the mind." It certainly is in our
day, more so, probably, than ever before. No intelli-
gent man can now conscientiously humble his reason
before his faith, as good Sir Thomas Browne boasted
he could. He said : "Men that live according to the
right rule and law of reason, live but in their own kind,
as brutes do in theirs." He said we are to believe, " not
only above but contrary to reason and against the argu-
ment of our proper senses." A good many other people
believed so too about that time. Poor Ann Arkens,
young, intelligent and beautiful, was stretched upon the
THE OPEN COURT.
323
rack, then burned with faggots and blown with gun-
powder at Smithfield, all because she could not believe
against the "argument of her proper senses" in tran-
substantiation, that the bread and wine the priest had
mumbled over remained anything but bread and wine.
The skepticism of our day is mainly the result of
science, of the enormous growth of our natural knowl-
edge. In its light the old theology and cosmology look
artificial and arbitrary; they do not fit into the scheme
of creation as science discloses it. Our science is
undoubtedly ignorant enough. We know no more
about final causes, after science has done its best, than
we did before, but familiarity with the laws and pro-
cesses of the world does undoubtedly beget a habit of
mind unfavorable to the personal and arbitrary view
of things which the old theology has inculcated. Sci-
ence has, at least, taught us that the universe is all of a
piece or homogeneous; that man is a part of nature;
that there are no breaks or faults in the scheme of crea-
tion, and can be none. One thing follows from another
or is evolved from another, the whole system of things
is vital, and not mechanical, and nothing is interpolated
or arbitrarily thrust in from without. All our natural
knowledge is based upon these principles. It is only in
theology that we encounter notions that run counter to
them, and that require our acceptance of doctrines in
which our powers of reason and observation can have
no part.
The man of science has no trouble in discovering
God objectively — that is, as the all-embracing force and
vitality that pervades and upholds the physical universe
— in fact he can discover little else. Knock at any
door he will, he finds the Eternal there to answer. But
his search discloses no human attributes, nothing he
can name in the terms he applies to man, nothing that
suggests personality. He can no more ascribe person-
ality to infinite power, than he can ascribe form to
infinite space. Yet he knows infinite space must
exist; it is a necessity of the mind, though it drives
one crazy to try to conceive of it. It is a matter
we apprehend, to use a distinction of Coleridge, but
cannot comprehend. In the same way we know an
infinite power, not ourselves, exists, but it passes the
utmost stretch of comprehension. This I say, is disclos-
ing God objectively, as a palpable, unavoidable fact. To
disclose God subjectively through the conscience, or as
an intimate revelation to the spirit, that is to experience
religion, as usually understood. The person finds God by
looking inward instead of outward, and finds him as a
person. Some religious souls have a most intense and
vivid conception of God subjectively, who cannot find
him by an outward search at all. Cardinal Newman is
such a man. He says the world seems simply to give
the lie to that great truth of which his whole being is so
full. " If I looked into a mirror and did not see my
face, I should have the sort of feeling which actually
comes upon me when I look into this living, busy world
and see no reflection of its Creator." What he calls this
power, of which all visihle things are the fruit and out-
come, does not appear. Probably nature simply; but is
nature something apart from God?
While this inward revelation of God to the spirit may
be the most convincing of all proofs to the person ex-
periencing it, yet it can have little force with another,
little force as an argument, because, in the first place, it
cannot be communicated or demonstrated. All inde-
pendent objective truth is capable of being communi-
cated and of being verified ; but this fact of which New-
man is so certain, he confesses himself, he cannot bring
out with any logical force. It is its own proof. And
in the second place, because the world knows how de-
lusive these personal impressions and inward voices are.
Wen have heard an inward voice or felt an inward
prompting that has led them to commit the most out-
rageous crimes against humanity, to burn witches and
heretics, to mortify their own bodies, or to throw them-
selves from precipices. Good men and wise men have
been equally sure, upon objective evidence, of the ex-
istence of the devil; they have heard his promptings,
his suggestions, and they have fought against him. Our
fathers were just as sure, upon personal grounds, of the
existence of the devil as Newman is of the existence of
God. One may personify the whisperings, or the mo-
tives of evil within himsdf, and give it a bad name, and
he may personify the nobler and higher voices within
him and eive it a good name. In either case it is a Sub-
is o
jective phenomenon, which the man bent upon exact
knowledge cannot attach much weight to. Satan
walked and talked with the biblical writers, the same as
did God; he even talked face to face with God himself.
Not long since a respectable mechanic in one of the
large cities believed himself bewitched; the hallucina-
tion worked upon him till he took to his bed, and finally
he actually died, to all intents and purposes bewitched
to death.
It is in the light of such facts and considerations as
these that the so-called skeptic refuses to credit all peo-
ple tell him about their knowledge of God. So that he
is finally compelled to rest upon the God of force and
law of outward nature.
It is also to be said that the decay of religious be-
lief in our times is rather a decay of creeds and dogmas
than of the spirit of true religion — religion as love, as
an aspiration after the highest good. If we regard it as
a decay of Christianity itself, it is to be remembered
that Christianity bears no such intimate relation to mod-
ern life, either the life of the individual or to the life of
the state, as polytheism bore to the life of the ancient
world. It is rather of the nature of an aside in modern
life, while in Greece and Rome and in Judea the natural
324
THE OPEN COURT
religion was the principal matter. The whole drama
of history clustered around and was the illustration of
this central fact. The state and the church were one.
The national e^ods were invoked and deferred to on all
occa-ions. Every festival was in honor of some divinity;
the public games were presided over by some god. In
going to war, or in concluding peace, solemn sacrifices
were offered, and the favor of the gods was solicited.
" The religion of polytheism," says Gibbon, " was
not merely a speculative doctrine professed in the
schools or preached in the temples," on the contrary
its deities and its rites " were closely interwoven with
every circumstance of business or pleasure, of public or
private life."
In comparison with many oriental p;ople we are an
irreligious and God-forsaken nation. No gods are
recognized by the state, and in 1796 Washington signed
a treat}' with a Mohammedan country, in which it was
declared that " the government of the United States is
not in an}' sense founded on the Christian religion."
Hence, whatever we owe to Christianity, we cannot
begin to owe to it what the ancient peoples owed to
their religions. Great Britain still maintains the union
of church and state, but it is a forced and artificial
union; it is a union and not a oneness, a matter of law
and not of life, as in ancient times. Yet ours is an age
of faith, too, faith in science, in the essential soundness
and goodness of the world. We are skeptical about
the gods, but we are no longer skeptical about things,
or about duty, or virtue, or manliness, or the need of
well-ordered lives. The putting out of the candles on
the altar has not put out the sun and stars too. We
affirm more than we deny. We no longer deny the old
religions, but accept them and see where they belong.
Man is fast reaching the point where he does not need
these kind of props and stays, the love of future good
or the fear of future evil. There was a time when the
pulling down of the temple pulled the sky down with
it, all motives for right were extinguished, but that time
is past. Righteousness has a scientific basis; the anger
of heaven descends upon the ungodly in the shape of
penalties for violated laws. A comet in the heavens is
no longer a fearful portent, but sewer gas in your house
is. Cholera is not a visitation for ungodliness, but for
uncleanliness, which is a form of ungodliness. We can-
not pray with the old faith, but we can fight intemper-
ance with more than the old zeal. We cannot love
God as our fathers did, but we can love our neighbor
much more. The spirit of charity and helpfulness has
increased in the world as the old beliefs have declined.
The skeptics and disbelievers could never slaughter each
other as the Christians have. Science substitutes a
rational basis for right conduct in place of the artificial
basis of the church. The anger of the gods no longer
threatens us; the displeasure of the church is no longer
a dread; but we know that virtue alone brings satisfac-
tion. We cannot read the Bible with the old eves, but
we read nature with new eyes.
Probably religion has long ceased to play any im-
portant part in the great movements of the world. A
religious war is no longer possible. In our two great wars
and in the founding of this republic, religious belief was
not concerned at all. The skeptics were just as ardent
and just as brave and patriotic as the believers. The
author of the Declaration of Independence was a skeptic.
The policy of England, France, Germany, Russia, is it
in any way inspired by the Christian religion? Never
were so much courage and hope, and benevolence and
virtue in the world as to-day, and never before were the
ties of the old faiths so weak.
HINDU LEGEND.
BY GERTRUDE AI.GER.
At Heaven's gate an Indian stood alone,
Whence could be seen, within, a golden throne
Awaiting him, 'mid glories nigh too great
For earthly eyes; when straightway to the gate
The gods came down and bade him "Enter in"
Where all was light and joy, untouched by sin.
The weary traveler heard the sweet request,
Unmoved, nor entered to his Heavenly rest;
But only said "This gate I cannot pass
Without my wife and brothers who, alas! —
Have fallen on the road, my good dog, too,
Is left behind, and not till it be true
All these I loved in life, with me may share
The Heavenly glories, will I enter there."
In vain the gods entreated him, for he
Was deaf to all, and scarcely seemed to see
The great celestial light about his throne,
And all the wonders meant for him alone.
'Twas not until the gods had given assent
To all he wished, that he would be content.
Excommunication seems to have no terrors for Dr.
McGlynn. In a recent address to a large and enthusi-
astic audience in New York, he said:
But then they say they have excommunicated me. No; no
man can do that. There are only two beings in all the vast uni-
verse that can separate me from God. One is that infinite, wise,
good and merciful Being, our Heavenly Father. He could do it;
but He never will until I consent first to separate myself from
Him. * * * Then there is only one other being in all the
universe, and that is Edward McGlynn. He can separate me
from Him. * * * In such cases as mine their excommunica-
tions lose their terrors; their lightning, produced by a "super"
from behind the scenes; their thunder a bit of sheet-iron shaken
by a poor devil who gets fifty cents a night. An unjust excom-
munication is not worth the paper it is written on. It is with his
own conscience one has to deal. * * * And if I am deprived
of the sacraments of the church, I am theologian enough to know
that I can save mv soul without them.
THE OPEN COURT.
3^5
The Open Court.
A. FORTNIOHTLY JOURNAL.
Published every other Thursday at i6g to 175 La Salle Street (Nixor
Building), corner Monroe Street, by
THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY
B. F. UNDERWOOD,
Editor and Manager.
SARA A. UNDERWOOD,
Associate Editor.
The leading object of The Open- Court is to continue
the work of The Index, that is, to establish religion on the
basis of Science and in connection therewith it will present the
Monistic philosophy. The founder of this journal believes this
will furnish to others what it has to him, a religion which
embraces all that i9 true and good in the religion that was taught
in childhood to them and him.
Editorially, Monism and Agnosticism, so variously denned,
will be treated not as antagonistic systems, but as positive and
negative aspects of the one and only rational scientific philosophy,
which, the editors hold, includes elements of truth common to
all religions, without implying either the validity of theological
assumption, or any limitations of possible knowledge, except such
as the conditions of human thought impose.
The Open Court, while advocating morals and rational
religious thought on the firm basis of Science, will aim to substi-
tute for unquestioning credulity intelligent inquiry, for blind faith
rational religious views, for unreasoning bigotry a liberal spirit,
tor sectarianism a broad and generous humanitarianism. With
this end in view, this journal will submit all opinion to the crucial
test of reason, encouraging the independent discussion by able
thinkers of the great moral, religious, social and philosophical
problems which are engaging the attention of thoughtful minds
and upon the solution of which depend largely the highest inter-
ests of mankind
While Contributors are expected to express freely their own
views, the Editors are responsible only for editorial matter.
Terms of subscription three dollars per year in advance,
postpaid to any part of the United States, and "three dollars and
fifty cents to foreign countries comprised in the postal union.
All communications intended for and all business letters
relating to The Open Court should be addressed to B. F.
Underwood, P. O. Drawer F, Chicago, Illinois, to whom should
be Tiade payable checks, postal orders and express orders.
THURSDAY, JULY 21, 1SS7.
THE FREE RELIGIOUS ASSOCIATION.
At the last annual meeting of the Free Religious
Association, the Executive Committee at the suggestion
of the President, were authorized and requested to
"consider the conditions, wants, and prospects of Free
Religion in America at the present time," to ascertain
whether the reconstruction of the Association for more
extended and effective efforts toward attaining its objects
is desirable and possible, and to report their conclusions
to the next annual meeting. In the convention the fol-
lowing morning the President sketched a plan which
he thought, if it could be carried into effect, adapted to
the end desired. The plan was briefly the division of the
Association into " four working sections," each with its
own organization, but the whole to be included in one gen-
eral organization. He indicated the sections as follows:
1. Section of Sociology — For the thoughtful study of all
problems pertaining to the social elevation of mankind, and for
inciting and organizing practical measures to promote such
progress.
2. Section of Religious and Ethical Philosophy —
Designed to bring together scattered thinkers and scholars on
these subjects, and to encourage original research therein, accord-
ing to the scientific method.
3. Section of Natural Science in its Relation to
Religion and Ethics — For intellectual workers occupying a
distinct and wide domain, yet so closely allied to those of the
second Section that the two at first, perhaps, might best be classed
together.
4. Section of the Relation of Religion to the State
— For resisting encroachments on liberty of conscience in reli-
gion, and for removing barriers to such liberty which may still
exist in statute books, contrary to the fundamental theory of civil
government in this country.
The Executive Committee desire to confer with
liberal thinkers within or without the Association, as to
the feasibility of this or some similar plan for enlarging
and strengthening the work of the Association. Mr.
W. J. Potter, the President, invites correspondence and
suggestions on the subject. He mav be reached through
his post office address, New Bedford, Mass.
For twenty years the Free Religious Association has
maintained a free platform, from which orthodox and
heterodox Christians, Hebrews, Buddhists, monistic and
dualistic thinkers, Materialists and Spiritualists, and anti-
Christians merely, or those not advanced beyond the
position of negation, have all hail an opportunity to
define and defend their views, and each in his own way.
The papers and speeches have sometimes been of a high
order and the discussions usually intelligent and con-
ducted with courtesy and in good taste.
The Association was formed in the interests of reli-
gious enlightenment, freedom and progress. It had its
origin in a departure from Unitarianism, and it has been
chiefly under the management of those who had found
even in that, the most liberal of the Christian denomina-
tions, limitations which they thought inconsistent with
entire freedom of thought. In drafting the statement of
their aims and objects, the founders of the Association
used language such as in the church they had been accus-
tomed to employ to define their position in distinction to
the Unitarian creed.
Mr. Frothingham, in his article in the July number
of the North American Revieiv, says that the objects of
the Free Religious Association, as its constitution
declared at the beginning, were "to encourage the scien-
tific study of religion and ethics, to advocate freedom in
religion, to increase fellowship in spirit, and to empha-
size the supremacv of practical morality in all the rela-
tions of life." Mr. Frothingham is mistaken. A con-
stitution with the objects of the organization so stated
could not have been adopted twenty years ago. Its
leader and members had not become sufficiently emanci-
jjated from theological beliefs or theological phraseology.
The first article of the constitution, as originally adopted,
was as follows:
This Association shall be called the Free Religious Associa-
tion— its objects being to promote the interests of pure religion,
326
THE OPEN COU RT.
to encourage the scientific study of theology, and to increase fel-
lowship in the spirit; and to this end all persons interested in
these objects are cordially invited to its membership.
The amended article, from which the quotation is
made in the North American Review, adopted after a
year's consideration, and not without some opposition, as
late as 1SS7, marks the evolution of thought inside the
organization from its formation to that date.
The Free Religious Association has done a good
work; and if some such plan as that submitted by Mr.
Potter can be agreed upon and carried out, we have no
doubt that the usefulness of the organization will con-
tinue and be greatlv increased.
THE ROCK AHEAD IN WOMAN SUFFRAGE.
Some years before ever the Woman's Christian Tem-
perance Union had, under the intrepid and wide-awake
leadership of Frances Willard, become awakened to the
fact that the ballot would be the most effective weapon
in its warfare against intemperance; before the great
mass of its members had — lulling their religious scruples
to rest with new readings of St. Paul — turned their faces
doubtfully in the direction of progress, or set their feet
in the path already trodden into comparative smoothness
by the heterodox pioneers of suffrage, a professedly
ardent lover of liberty surprised the writer by what
seemed to her an attack on the true principles of liberty
in his earnest opposition to any immediate action with
view to obtaining the franchise for women, and by his
stirring appeal to her as a freethinker to cease effort and
agitation in that direction. '• You know as well as I do,"
he said, " that women as a class are, by reason of their
previous condition and limitations, far in the rear of men
in their views of intellectual liberty. Women are to-day
the chief pillars of the churches, and are a thousand
times more subservient to the wishes and will of the
clergy than men. We who understand what a barrier
to liberty of conscience and expression the orthodox
churches must remain, ought to work first of all for the
upbuilding on solid foundations of the principles of true
liberty for humanity. If we do not secure this legally
before women are given the ballot, or have outgrown
the influence of creeds, we shall be thrown back at least
a century in our work; for, if women could vote to-day,
their first efforts in the direction of influencing legislation
would be, under leadership of their revered teachers, the
clergy, to mix religion with politics, to put the name of
God into the Constitution as a shibboleth, to lay traps in
law to fetter free expression of opinion and force upon
us new theological shackles to take the place of those we
have by long effort succeeded in breaking, or which
have become worn out by time, and so perhaps plunge
the nation into intolerance and consequent disaster. I
understand your feelings as a woman who longs to see
her sex relieved of the bonds which it has become used
to. I understand and sympathize with that love of lib-
ertv which rebels at the thought of refusing to aid in
whatever direction lihertv calls; but reason is greater
and more imperative than even libertv, and reason bids
vou work for the larger liberty of conscience at the risk
of seeming to ignore temporarilv the rights of your sex."
We did not then and do not now acknowledge the
justice of this plea, though we have since, as we had
before, heard it from main' other sources. Macaulay
says that the best way to prepare a people for freedom
is to give them freedom. And the best way to prepare
women to recognize and respect the rights of others is
first to recognize, and permit them to exercise, their
rights. The temporary evil resulting from any narrow-
ness on their part — due largely to their non-participation
in what vitally concerns them, and the restriction of their
thought to merely domestic matters — will be more than
compensated by the larger views and broader sympathies
and more liberal spirit which will come to them. But
the evil feared bv our pessimistic prophet is neverthe-
less a possible one among these temporary evils, and
unless guarded against in time, may prove a very serious
one. Alreadv, even before the end in view is attained,
we find evidence here and there of the underlying spirit
of religious intolerance among women workers for- suf-
frage, which is sufficient to fill the hearts of the true
friends of the movement with alarm and dismay, and it
is to warn against the encouragement of the encroach-
ments of this insidious foe to progress that this editorial
is written.
Already women workers for suffrage of known
heterodox views, however careful " not to offend one of
these little ones " by parade of, or reference to, their own
religious opinions, and however sensitively regardful of
the differing opinions of their co-laborers bv thoughtful
avoidance of subjects foreign to that of woman's enfran-
chisement, are beginning to find their rights of opinion
attacked by leaders in the orthodox flank of the suffrage
army. Many of these incidents, of course, never reach
the public, but one or two instances which have we wish
here to refer to as indication of a spirit sure to bring
disaster to the woman's cause if allowed to grow. Mem-
bers of the Woman's Christian Temperance Union seem
thus far to take the lead in this aggressive Phariseeism.
We quote from a correspondent of the Boston Woman's
Journal of a recent date :
At the County Convention of the \V. C. T. U., just held in
Rock Island, 111., the hour devoted to equal suffrage was occupied
by Mrs. Clara Neymann, of New York, whose services were
secured by the Equal Suffrage Society of Moline for the occasion.
Mrs. Louise S. Rounds, State President of the Illinois W. C.
T. U., spoke of the paper presented by Mrs. Neymann. She said
she had heard names quoted — Emerson, John Stuart Mill, and
Herbert Spencer — eminent names that would live for years, per-
haps, but not one word of Jesus, to whom alone this reform could
look for permanent support. She was first of all a Christian,
then a temperance woman, and, last of all — having come to the
THE OPEN COURT.
y-i
position "gingerlv," as her hearers would witness — a believer in
suffrage for women on temperance grounds. She was tired of
hearing the old, threadbare cry, the long-harped-on tune, of
" woman's rights," preached by the godless women who had been
leaders in the cause. She spoke with much vehemence, and
struck the pew with her hand to enforce her remarks.
Several ladies present mildly deprecated the presi-
dent's remarks, and
Mrs. Neymann asked if a criticism was just which was based
solelv on negations. As she understood Mrs. Rounds, she was
criticised for what she had failed to say, not for what she had said.
It would, it seems to us, be more politic for the pur-
pose such Christians have in view to wait until some
indiscriminate and enthusiastic freethinker assails, in the
suffrage meetings, the Christianity of some suffragist.
It is alwavs safest, in view of gaining adherents to one's
opinions, to remain upon the defensive. It is cowardly
and unjust to attack unprovoked ; it is pusillanimous to
refuse to defend one's self from such attack, whether it be
personal violence or an assatdt upon our convictions.
Certainly no greater wrong could be done than thus to
assail one so careful to avoid giving cause of offense to
those who differ from her theologically as the gentle-
mannered an:l loving-hearted Mrs. Nevmann, who, while
still smarting under this uncalled-for attack, relating to
us the particulars, showed not one trace of ill-will
toward her opponent, but only grief tempered by sur-
prise that she should have been the object of it.
One more straw indicative of how strongly the cur-
rent on which the suffrage movement is floating is
tending toward the treacherous rock of intolerance we
find in the following clipping from the Chicago Inter-
Ocean of May iS:
Mrs. Elizabeth Boynton Harbert presided over a meeting of
the Cook County Women's Suffrage Association, held at the
Sherman yesterday afternoon. After transacting some business
prior to their adjournment for the summer, a few remarks were
made by Mrs. M. E. Holmes, Galva, 111., President of the State
Suffrage Association, in which she alluded to the encouraging
progress being made in the State. She then closed by saying
that the one thing necessary was to consider the relation of suf-
frage to the church; that suffragists stand out from church work
too much. She claimed that they cannot do the work until they,
as suffragists, get into the churches; that a strict spiritual as well
as a suffrage society is necessary. She said this is the only way
to get the church people in the work. A strong feeling is
prevalent, that suffrage has nothing to do with religion, and, if
that be the case, she wanted nothing to do with suffrage. Mrs.
Underwood, assistant editor of The Open Court, and who
recently came to this city from Boston, asked if the constitution
of this association touched on the subject of religious creed or
dogma. The question was asked, she said, simply for informa-
tion, as in Massachusetts the suffrage movement was one solely
and distinctly separate from religion and prohibition, and she felt
it should so continue, as there are many of its leaders like Mrs.
Stanton and others, who perhaps hold to no particular religious
creed or church, and would, on these grounds, be barred out of
the movement if it rested on creed or church dogmas. Several
ladies thought this an attack on their individual church, and all
came forward to air themselves on their personal church and
religious tenets. Mrs. Harbert soon took in the situation and
stopped debate. Mrs. Underwood in a few words made herself
plain and poured oil on the troubled waters.
To some it may seem almost impertinent on the part
of members of an association which comes so laggardlv
into the field of suffrage work, to say to those who have
made the work possible to them that they do not choose
to work with them, and that their best policy is to give
way gracefully to the newcomers, who feel quite compe-
tent to accept any stray laurels of success which may
now be won, and to denounce as unworthv of recogni-
tion such leaders in the movement as Mary Wolstone-
craft, John Stuart Mill, Mrs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton,
Frances Wright, Ernestine L. Rose, Judge Hurlbut,
Lucretia Mott, Lydia Maria Child, Parker Pillsbury,
Frances D. Gage, and hundreds of others whose names
will readily occur to mind.
Women of the Christian Temperance Union, beware
of this rock of intolerance! Read history and ponder
its lessons; learn to think it possible that your wisdom
may not comprise all the wisdom of this world, and
remember that the heretics of yesterday are the revered
teachers of to-day. s. A. u.
A prominent Mexican liberal writes that the church in
Mexico is fast declining in influence. " The men," he
says, " are generally unbelievers, although they are
counted as church members because they do not take the
trouble to explain their position. The strength of the
church is with the wo.nen and the ignorant. Attend
the services, and what do you see? Many men? No;
nine out of ten worshipers are women. The fact is,
there has been a verv rapid sprerd of unbelief among
the intelligent men of Mexico. The school of Kant
has many disciples. Speculative philosophv has taken
root among our students. Those representatives of the
church who let politics alone and consider only the spir-
itual aspect of the situation are greatly alarmed at this
growth of liberalism in religion. At the rate we are
going we shall be a nation of believers in the greatest
freedom of religious thought."
The following short sketch of Richard A. Proctor
is copied from the Chicago Tribune:
The eminent English astronomer, Richard Anthony Proctor,
has decided to become an American citizen, and is building a
residence at Orange Lake, Florida, the great orange grove section
of that State. The learned man's wife is an American, and it is
fair to presume that she is entitled to more credit than the sunny
groves of Florida for her husband's intention to make his home
in the United States.
Mr. Proctor was born in England, in the year 1S37, m good
social position, and received a thorough education. After pre-
paratory studies in several private schools, he proceeded to King's
College, London, and from thence to St. John's College, Cam-
bridge, where he was graduated in 1S60, with honors. In 1S66
he was appointed a Fellow of the Royal Astronomical Society of
England; and an honorary Fellow of King's College, London, in
1S73. He edited the proceedings of the Royal Astronomical
328
THE OPBN COURT.
Society in 1S72-73. In 1S69 he created great interest by main-
taining against the almost universal opinion of astronomers, the
theory of the solar corona and also that of the inner complex
solar atmosphere, this the discovery of Professor Young, both of
which have since been accepted. Mr. Proctor has lectured in all
the principal cities of England, Canada, the United States, New
South Wales, Victoria, South Australia, New Zealand and other
countries. He knows how to make astronomy interesting, a gift
rare as well as most desirable.
Mr. Procter has written much on scientific subjects in various
publications, and is the author of more than sixty books. Knowl-
edge, an English periodical edited by him and which has a large
circulation in scientific circles, will be issued as an American
publication. The articles on astronomy in Apfletorfs Encyclo-
paedia and the Encyclopedia Britannica were written by Mr.
Proctor, who constructed a chart of the heavens, and in 1S74,
added greatly to his reputation by his learned researches into the
transits of Venus. This great astronomer is a man of strong
domestic tastes. He lost his first wife in January, 1S79. The
present Mrs. Proctor, who is a niece of General Jefferson
Thompson, of Virginia, became so in May, 1SS1. Her husband
had made a tour of the United States previously to the time of
his marriage to this American lady, in 1S73-74, 1875, and just
before that happy event. The accession of Richard A. Proctor
to the ranks of naturalized Americans will be a decided gain to
the cause of learning, scientific inquiry and popular instruction.
# * *
Referring to the recent Andover decision, the Uni-
tarian Review, now ably conducted by Joseph Henry
Allen, of Cambridge, Mass., pertinently observes:
The press as a whole, continues to side very vigorously with
the accused; but the press, as well as the trustees in their recent
manifesto, confuse two radically diverse questions. The one is a
question of sympathy with the comparatively liberal and humane
spirit displayed at Andover. * * * But the second question
is the plain ethical question of the right of these estimable gentle-
men to teach what they do teach in the place they hold under the
local conditions of their foundations. On this point, which is
really the main question of the two, we hold that the Visitors
have acted justly, and that a high standard of honor should have
led the professors to resign their places before this. They are
honorable men, but the confusion of mind which keeps them
where they are is to be regretted in the interests of morality and
theology alike. If taken up to the law courts the Andover case
will serve to advertise the dissensions of the Trinitarian Congre-
gationalists, and the liberal cause will profit thereby ; but we shall
esteem it a misfortune should the courts set aside the decision of
the Visitors. The thing most needed now by our Trinitarian
brethren is a new and free Andover, unshackled by a creed and
the necessity of maintaining legal obligations which are not those
of reason and of truth.
# * *
Dr. McGlynn's speech contains a very significant passage,
which the Tribune and the Sun, not less significantlv, have sup-
pressed. We quote from the verbatim report of the Times:
They calumniate me when they say I took the stump for Mr.
Cleveland. It is a lie. They tried to make a religious feeling
against Mr. Cleveland because he vetoed an appropriation of
$25,000 for a Catholic Protectory. I should have done the very
same thing in his place.
This is the first revelation " from the inside " of the reason
why "they tried to make a religious feeling against Mr. Cleve-
land." Everybody knows of the effort, and that it was strong
enough, in the secrecy which enveloped it, very nearly to defeat
Mr. Cleveland. Many people also knew well enough the reason
for it, but could not prove it. Now it is officially revealed by a
man who knows perfectly what was going on in the councils ot
Mr. Cleveland's opponents in 1SS4. The revelation is one of the
greatest pieces of Mr. Cleveland's proverbial luck. A secret
diversion of the Roman Catholic vote from a Democratic cardi-
date is a serious misfortune, but open, announced opposition on
religious grounds is another matter. No better piece of luck
could befall a candidate than to have it known that he was to be
"jumped on " by some of our foreign citizens " because he vetoed
an appropriation of $25,000 for a Catholic Protectory." Such an
announcement would insure his election. Our people will not
stand religion in politics; least of all will they stand the Pope in
politics. — The Nation.
* # *
Rev. Dr. Burgon, Dean of Chichester, in replving
to Canon Freemantle in the April number of the Fort-
nightly Review, declares that the doctrine of evolution
is false and " the veriest foolishness," and in support of
this opinion he says that " man is never found at all in a
fossil state." The editor of the Popular Science
Monthly, after remarking that, had Dr. Burgon " opened
the most elementary contemporary treatise on geology,
he would have found that abundant fossil remains of
man, and abundant traces also of his works, have been
found in association with the bones of now extinct ani-
mals," and after pointing out some of the other errors of
the learned dean, adds: "Dr. Burgon's article will do
good. The extreme ignorance he manifests on scientific
questions, and the unbounded confidence with which he
nevertheless undertakes to discuss them, will open the
eyes of many as to the pressing need for the scientific
education of the clergy."
# * *
The Protestant clergy of Montreal have made vigorous
efforts to suppress all means of amusement and diversion on Sun-
day, but the City Council has resisted these attempts to curtail
the few privileges the people now enjoy, and a most important
advance has been made by the opening of the Fraser Institute —
the free public library — on Sunday. This is owing to the gen-
erous and wise action of Mr. John H. R. Molson, the wealthy
brewer, who has donated $10,000 to the Fraser Institute, upon the
condition that it shall be opened to the public on Sundays at the
same hours as upon other days. The trustees have accepted the
gift and the conditions. Mr. Molson is a vice-president of the
Montreal Pioneer Freethought Club, which was the first insti-
tution in Montreal to open its reading rooms and library free to
the public. — Secular Thought.
Mr. O. B. Frothingham has an article in the North
American Review for July on "Why Am I a Free
Religionist? " In connection with his reasons for belong-
ing to the Association, he gives some account of its ori-
gin, early history and possible future. The treatment
of the subject is not so full as we could wish, but there
is enough in the article to make it of interest, especially
to members of the Association.
The concluding part of Professor Cope's great essay,
proof of which has not been returned in time for this
issue, will be inserted in No. 13.
THE OPEN COURT.
329
TWO PROPHETS.
BY ALFRED II. PETERS.
The greatest human possession is the power of com-
pelling thought. He is the most godlike man who
forces the world, or any considerable portion of it, to
accept his words as truth. Chief among such are the
establishers of great ideas hitherto untried or unheard of.
These become founders of religions and of systems of
ethics and of physics, spiritual and mental sovereigns of
whose title there is never any dispute. Second only to
such are those interpreters and confirmers of ideas, more
or less accepted, who possess unusual insight or expres-
sion. These, if not sovereigns, are, by virtue of their
being stimulators to spiritual and mental activity,
the prophets and ministers of the race. Of the
first class there appears but one in a thousand years. Of
the second, every generation produces one or more;
leaders and shapers of their age, not sure of the first
place, but sure of the affection and reverence of mankind
for a portion of, if not for all time. Of this class Frank-
lin was the most conspicuous individual produced by us
previous to the present centurv. No one of our coun-
trymen, before or during his time, influenced general
thought throughout the world as did he. He was, pre-
eminently, the wise man, the oracle of the new repub-
lic. Of the same class in this century two men, thus far,
overtop all others as thought-compellers of their own
time in the United States — Emerson, the fortifier of" hu-
manity, and Beecher, its apologist. No Americans, save
Franklin, have in a general way so influenced human
opinion as have these two.
Sprung from the same stock; educated for the same
profession; idealists both; no teachers ever bore to
their fellows more different messages, or in a more dif-
ferent way. Alike optimists and humanitarians, their
theories of the conduct of life were entirely oppo>ite.
Radical dissenters from the old order of things, the dis-
sent of one was not the dissent of the other. Courage,
tolerance, and a hatred of cant they indeed possessed in
common, as they did that quality of intellect which can-
not be specialized, whose work applies to all time, and
to one part of the world as much as to another, the surest
test everywhere of human greatness.
As the advocate of reason against passion, as the main-
tainer of the possibilities of the human will and the de-
clarer that virtue is its own reward, Emerson is the later
apostle of all those who make the higher life dependent
upon themselves. He came not crying repent, so much
as overcome. Repentance is good, but not to require
repentance is better. Denial of self for others is good,
but to make it unnecessary that others should deny them-
selves for you is as noble as it is to deny yourself for
them. Charity is good, but why make occasion for
charity? To profit at another's expense, whether by his
good will or by your dishonesty, is a confession of
inferiority. Human inequality is a natural law; what one
possesses another lacks. Cease then, to envy what is
another's and make the most of what is your own.
Think not to avoid conflict, which is an inexorable
condition of existence, but let the conflict be with your-
self.
A democrat and an individualist he nevertheless was
by temperment exclusive, as all very fine natures are
however they may strive to be otherwise. To him the
same law regulated the intermingling of men that regu-
lates the mingling of oil and water — like seeks like and
appeals to like everywhere. With the greedy, cozening,
time-serving, passion-yielding crowd he had as little sym-
pathy as they had with him. No man ever became his
disciple whose best energies were exercised upon mate-
terial things. With all fault-finders, blamers of others,
and wearers of their hearts upon their sleeves he had as
little patience as he had with other mendicants. But
wherever he saw man or woman, of whatever estate,
walking alone, "consuming their own smoke," doino-
their own thinking and making daily trial of their own
strength, there he recognized one in earnest, and a true
yoke-fellow with himself.
He is the best representative of the stoic school of
philosophy which the nineteenth century can show.
Not of that order which held pain to be no evil, or
withstood destiny by despising everything of which it
could deprive them, but one of those fate-abiding, pas-
sion-tempered spirits, " gentle and just and dreadless,"
of whom the best types are Seneca and Marcus Anto-
ninus. Like them he believed that " no man can ever be
poor who goes to himself for what he want*." He held
the most desirable things to be, not commodity and su-
premacy, things dependant upon others, but appreciation
and perception, things dependant upon one's self. He
taught that loss is a necessity to which we should build
altars, and that nothing so disenthralls us from the dis-
turbing confusion of life as the habit of thought.
Of course it is to the intellectual class that he mainly
appeals. By this, however, is not meant those merely who
are engaged in bookish pursuits, but that great, serious,
and for the most part, silent company of men and women
in whom there exists a perpetual hunger of the mind.
He has been an inspiration to meditative spirits and per-
ceivers of beauty the world over. Especially helpful is
he to those who are just having their early ideals of the
world undeceived. The most critical period in the life
of every right dispositioned young man or woman is
when they first realize that people regard haying as
more important than being. Such an one, when sore at
finding "his graces have served him but as enemies," is
unspeakably strengthened and comforted by the lofty
teaching that if a scrupulous sense of honor does not
pay, materially speaking, yet he who refuses to barter
his convictions possesses what is worth more than all
tin
TOE OPEN COURT.
rewards of policy— the knowledge that the world could
not overcome him.
When the history of American thought is finally
written, one of the epochs in it will be marked by the
New England Transcendental Movement. This was
the first permanent effort in the republic, on the part of
any considerable number, toward an inquiry into the
conduct of life which did not assert for itself the author-
ity of supernatural revelation. Unlike the movement
of Channing, it cut entirely loose from Christianity and
appealed from the doctrine of human weakness to the
doctrine of human strength. It was the first re-affirma-
tion of the philosophy of Zeno by any recognized body
of thinkers which had been heard for fifteen centuries.
No matter if many enthusiastic people brought ridicule
upon the movement by giving its name to their own
schemes for making the world over in a day. Extrava-
gance of intellect is no more to be wondered at than
extravagance of emotion. It was one of those periods
in society which the historian Grote declares especially
valuable to study, because routine is broken through and
the constructive faculties called into exercise.
The first effect of this movement was a decline of
reverence for all authority whatsoever whose claim to
directorship was founded on other than present excel-
lence. Its next effect was to make religious indepen-
dence respectable. Its latest effect, which was set
back twenty years by the war for the Union, was to
make respectable independence in politics. The same
reo-ion is at the present time giving most uneasiness to
the beneficiaries of politics which has for the last thirty
years given most uneasiness to the beneficiaries of re-
ligion.
Of this movement Emerson was the acknowledged
head. Unlike certain others he did not abandon the
transcendental principle because of its failure to work an
immediate reformation. Withdrawing from the world
he consecrated himself to contemplation, like a me-
diaeval mystic. All of transcendentalism that was
founded upon individual effort drew from him its main
inspiration. His influence is seen in all later subjective
literature. Whether he was poet or philosopher, or
both, men may continue to differ, but there is no differ-
ence as to the position he will occupy among the com-
pellers of thought.
Instead of the doctrine that happiness depends mainly
upon one's self, the mass of men have ever preferred to
think that it depends upon the aid of their fellows
or of supernatural powers. They would fain believe
that the law of cause and effect may in some way be
made void, and from time to time, therefore, it is pro-
claimed that punishment for the sins of one's ancestors
is a crime, and for one's own a mistake. But for the
tremendous conviction that every transgression carries
with it a penalty, this doctrine would long ago have
superseded the one upon which all civil and religious gov-
ernment has been thus far based. Charity, sympathy
and generosity are more winning virtues than justice,
temperance and patience. The world loves the one; it
does not love the other. Its submission to them is the
homage which weakness pays to strength.
To the multitude of those who were ready to break
from Puritanism, the transcendental philosophy was no
more attractive than the old theology. Its creed was
equally austere; its practice no less disciplinary. It was,
in fact, a kind of Calvinism whose deity was a natural
instead of a revealed one, and wherein election depended
principally upon one's self. Its subjection of the emo-
tions to the intellect, and the little charity exercised by
some of its apostles toward human weakness made its
rejection by the mass of people an assurance from the
start. It was a life with more love in it for which they
asked, something realistic and not an abstraction. So
true it is that " the blood which first passes through the
brain is never so red as that which flows direct from the
heart." Another dispensation was demanded, and pres-
entlv its prophet appeared.
As a sympathizer with human frailty and ignorance,
as a believer in the efficacy of forgiveness, and in the
possibility of a common brotherhood, Beccher was, be-
vond all others of his time, the representative of such as
made mutual sympathy the ruling principle of existence.
Others there were, as honest lovers of mankind as he,
but either their natures were too fine for heartv promis-
cuous contact, or they were hedged about by the tradi-
tional sanctity of their calling, and were priests rather
than men. Never had man less of the priest about him
than this one. Of that professional air which makes the
ordinary teacher of religion everywhere recognizable he
was wholly free. And he was no less so actually than
in appearance. His hearers were his confessors more
often than he was confessor to them. That vast multi-
tude which hung upon his uttered or printed words had
not a man among them more greedy of life than himself.
There was a coarseness of fiber in him as there is in
all popular favorites. His expression was like a burst
of martial music whose stirring strains have oftentimes
mingled among them notes which grate upon a refined
ear. Herein was the secret of that affection which the
mass of his countrymen had for him more than for any
other orator or writer of his time. People loved him as
they loved Luther, and Mirabeau, and Lincoln, because
they felt he was of the earth, like themselves. What a
successful politician he might have become had he been
ambitious of place anil willing to accommodate himself
to the conditions of popular suffrage?
Those opposed to his opinions felt and confessed the
magic influence of his personality, and even criticism
was silent among those to whom his coarseness of ex-
pression was an offense. The inconsistency of his latei
THE OPEN COURT.
with his earlier religious views was useless against him
as a reproach. Had his memorable trial resulted in con-
viction, the spirit of compassion with which he had in-
spired his generation would have poured back upon him
as the cloud returns to the earth. If the religion of the
future is to be based upon charity Beecher will rank
among the foremost of its prophets.
But not alone of the spiritual life was it that he spoke
as one having authority. When his vast utterance shall
have been distilled it will be found that, beside being a
man lover, he was an earth lover; one for whom there
was a message in every animate or inanimate thing; a
Homeric man, the half of whose power of expression
came from his intercouse with thought-compelling na-
ture. He was indifferent to nothing which affected the
happiness or welfare of others. One is astonished at his
diversity of effort. His natural bent of mind seems to
have been toward the concrete and realistic. He was
too keen an enjoyer of material things to occupy himself
with speculations upon the absolute. Though his arms
were outstretched to every repentant evil doer yet no
man ever denounced individual or corporate injustice
more than he. Government was to him, as Jefferson
said, the art of being honest. Upon every political issue
his voice was heard in defence of what he believed to be
the most honest side.
It is true, his words, like the words of every orator,
cannot be read without some of their strength being
lost. It is true, also, that his influence has to no great
extent been felt abroad. His thought was not of that
condensed kind upon which men of letters are nourished,
nor of the technical kind sought after by specialists. His
audience was that great middle class among his own
countrymen whose minds neither dwell apart from the
flesh, nor are so benumbed or besotted by it that they
are incapable of regarding anything higher.
To such, his courage, his fervor, and his homely illus-
tration were an irresistible attraction, whether they al-
ways agreed with him or not, while to weak, bruised, or
erring spirits the outpourings of his life-appreciating,
sympathetic nature were a peculiar comfort and support.
It was fortunate for his fame that no profession could
narrow him, no party enslave him nor communion label
him. Had his inconsistencies been double what they
were he would have been forgiven, for, notwithstand-
ing them all, he was a very great man, and at his death
shaped the general thought of the American people more
than did any one of his countrymen then living.
The author of John Inglesa>it asserts that "all
creeds and opinions are but the result of character and
temperment." Of the many lives which might be cited
to prove the truth of this saying no better ones can be
found than the two which are the subject of this article.
Both of these men possessed masterful characters and
were therefore a law unto themselves. But their
temperments werealtogetherunhke. Emerson was bare-
ly charitable to human weakness, because his predomi-
nent intellectuality lifted him above common desire. lie
could live with men or he could live apart from them,
and in his hours "f depression could obtain relief within
himself. Beecher pitied and extenuated human weak-
ness, because no man more craved intercourse and
sympathy than he. The virtue of Emerson was nega-
tive; that of Beecher was positive. One looked at what
a person was; the other at what he did. Positive
virtue is most esteemed by men of action; negative
virtue by men of thought. Positive virtue is often
the reaction from positive vice ; negative virtue gen-
erally has less to repent of. Without positive virtue
there would belittle reform; without negative virtue
there would be no self-control. Positive virtue and
negative virtue, as human nature now exists, appear to
be equally necessary, but if all men were negatively
virtuous, of positive virtue there would be no need.
When to their own work is added the work of their
disciples, one cannot help thinking that from these two
men has gone forth a greater influence than during their
time, went from all the seats of learning in the land
combined. Money founds and endows academies and
universities. Men dispense instruction therein, learned,
patient and for the most part unselfish. Thither flock a
multitude of youth; a few to get wisdom, many to get
knowledge and more to get a start in the world or to
have a good time. A certain habit of thought becomes
current and a certain routine of instruction, founded
thereon, for a time prevails, when lo, up rises some mas-
ter outside of the schools, teaching without authority,
and straightway pupils attend on him from the farm,
the market and the workshop, and students in ancient
foundations desert their alma mater to sit at his feet.
Such is the power of genius. However much our time
may be accused of materialism, let genius but speak and
the world gives ear. Surely a generation that has
grown up under two such great spiritual teachers cannot
be whollv a materialistic one.
CORRESPONDENCE.
ECCLESIASTICAL ATTENTIONS TO MURDERERS.
To the Editors: Brighton, England.
Perhaps in America vou are more fortunate than we are in
England and your clergy may not weaken the public sense of the
atrocity of murder as they do in England, by the ill-judged obtru-
sion of consolation on men rightfully adjudged to the gallows. A
few years ago one of the " merry miserable? " of London, in Gt.
Ccram street, was murdered by her paramour in the night, who was
conjectured to be a foreigner. A Danish clergyman of spotless
repute, was apprehended on suspicion. Before he could prove his
innocence, which he speedily did, he claimed the sympathy and
assistance of the Chaplain of the Middlesex House of Detention
" as a brother minister and a brother Christian." The " brother
clergyman " shrank from him and refused his hand when offered ;
332
THE OPEN COURT.
yet, if the man had been really guilty and ordered to be hanged,
the same clergyman would have shown him the tenderest atten-
tions, and would have assured a joyful reception at the throne of
God to a man whose hand it was pollution to touch on earth. A
case of this kind has again occurred in which the Bishop of Lin-
coln has been the actor. I send you the protest which I thought
it right to make against this practice, which is begetting a convic-
tion in England, that no one is absolutely sure of going to heaven
unless he has committed some murder.
To the Right Reverend the Lord Bishop of Lincoln:
It being my intention to take public notice in Leicester of the
inclosed paragraph, which appeared in the Daily News of Febru-
ary 22, it seems right that I should first ask whether so incredible
a statement can be true.
" Richard Insole, 24, fisherman, was executed at Lincoln, at
nine o'clock this morning, for the murder of his wife at Grimsby.
The pair had lived apart, and Insole becoming jealous, shot her
with a revolver five times, the last shot being fired while the
woman was lying on the floor. Insole paid great attention to the
ministration of the Bishop of Lincoln, who had frequently visited
him. The bishop administered the sacrament to him on Sunday
morning and was in attendance upon him from eight o'clock this
morning until just before the execution."
This paragraph represents that your lordship " frequently
visited" Insole the wife killer of Grimsby. Can it be that a bishop
paid these flattering attentions to a brutal murderer. A city mis-
sionary would have been a messenger of glory grand enough for
a scoundrel of this class. Indeed, the self-respect of an honest
missionary should be above this business. It is said that your
lordship actually administered the sacrament to this murderer
who had fired at his wife five times, the last time when she was
upon the ground. What can men think of the sanctity of the
sacramental cup which touches such villainous lips? Was Insole
prepared for the Holy Communion who was not converted save
by the rope round his neck? Was it right to dispatch to the
Court of Heaven one whom your lordship as a gentleman would
never think of proposing as 'a member of the Athena'um Club?
Is the committee of the Athenaeum Club more dainty as to whom
it associates with than the Holy Trinity? Did Insole's wife goto
heaven who was sent to her account without a word of warning
or prayer of preparation? If she is gone to hell is it right that In-
sole, her murderer, should be in heaven — she crying in vain for a
drop of water to quench her burning tongue while he who sent
her into damnation is supping at the cool springs of paradise? If
happily she be in heaven, it would be better that her husband
should be elsewhere. How could the murdered and the murderer
nestle in Abram's bosom? High ecclesiastical attentions to
coarse, brutal, blood-stained criminals is to condone and encour-
age crime. We may not insult the doomed however vile — nor
dTscourage their repentance; but we should warn the murderer
that if he thinks himself fit company for " the just made perfect,"
he must himself negotiate his own admission to heaven. We who
refuse to let him live in this world cannot be any parties to solic-
iting his admission to the company before the throne. How can
angels wish one of their trumpets blown by a murderer? Notes of
music dyed with innocent blood must tingle the ears of Jehovah.
Alia bishop can fitly do in this case is to offer prayers for the soul
of the murdered wife — and head a subscription for her family. He
who slew her should be left to the hangman in this world and to
the Judge of the next.
In these days, when Ave are told that those misjudge Chris-
tianity who question the morality of its teachings — these sacra-
mental transactions with a murderer require explanation and I
shall read with attention any I may receive, if your lordship really
took part in them — as represented.
Your lordship teaches that he who believes that Eve was but
a mere primrose dame, filching the apple of freedom, "shall with-
out doubt, perish everlastingly " — while here is a wife murderer
who (as we know from report) fares well, eats well, sleeps well
and dies well, with the bishop at his elbow to impart to him "the
sure and certain hope of a glorious resurrection." Who can rec-
oncile these things. Who can read them and not be amazed?
Whatever part your lordship may have taken in this affair, it
has been, I doubt not, from humane motives — but motives do not
make morality— however they may excuse conduct.
[At the anniversary of the Secular Institute at Leicester, I did
as I intimated, brought the correspondence under the notice of the
audience. Between the time of sending the letter to the Bishop
of Lincoln and the public citation of it, there was time for a reply.
No answer came nor did I expect it. It does sometimes occur to
a bishop that he professes to be "a soldier of Christ" and that he
ought to answer for the faith that is in him, when reasonable re-
quirement is made to him to that effect. Some years ago when I
addressed Bishop Wilberforce, then in the occupancy of the See
of Oxford, he gave prompt and courteous attention to my inqui-
ries though the occasion of them and the nature of them would be
held to excuse his disregard of them. The moral sense of the
community is much sharper than it was, education is more gener-
ally diffused, the observation of clerical ways is more critical than
formerly, and the Bishop of Lincoln might usefully have ex-
plained the grounds on which he continued a practice no longer
consonant with the moral feeling of the age. After a few days I
addressed to his lordship the following further communication :]
Your lordship might infer from my recent letter that it was
written on behalf of relatives of the murdered woman, indignant
at the distinction conferred upon the man who killed her. This is
not so — I do not know them, yet I own that in all such cases my
sympathies are more with the families of the victim than with
him who brought the misery upon them.
It was from moral considerations that I wrote. The public
concern is with restitution rather than salvation. As far as possi-
ble restitution should be exacted from the criminal. In days when
I was deputed to report upon executions I had experience of mur-
derers which led me to write a pamphlet against public killing as
feeding the vanity of murderers and further depraving the scoun-
drel class by permitting them the gratification of witnessing mur-
der without responsibilty. I have known some murderers. The
man Forwood, known by the name of Southey, the name which
he had the vanity to take — told me that he intended to kid his
wife and family. His wish was to win the distinction of Trop-
mann by a great crime. As he represented that Lord Dudley was
the cause of his misfortunes I suggested that he should kill him,
if he was persuaded of the rightfulness of redressing private wrong
by murder. But this did not divert him. He did kill seven per-
sons and then wrote to me from Maidstone gaol to bring his case
under the notice of the public. I answered that "I was reluc ant
to kick a man when he was down, even though he was a mur-
derer, but I drew the line at a man who killed his wife and chil-
dren. I hoped that his frightful ambition of notoriety would be
ended bv the rope." I have reason to think that I prevented arti-
cles being written on his trial, as he was hanged without attention
being bestowed upon him. Until that case arose I did not believe
that a man would incur the gallows for the sake of publicity. As I
have said, I doubt not that your lordship's attentions to Insole
were dictated by honorable pity, and not inconsistent with the let-
ter and spirit of Christianity. Nevertheless, administering the
Holy Sacrament to murderers effaces the terror of crime and di
minishes its gravity in the eyes of criminals. The interest of
society is in restitution, not repentance and it is conducive to pub-
lic morality that men should know that he who commits a crime
in which restitution is impossible places himself without the pale
of sympathy in this world or of mercy in the next unless some
expiatory is in force there. George Jacob Holyoake.
REPLY TO PROCTOR ON "COMMON CONSENT."
To the Editors:
Will you kindly give space to a brief rejoinder by way of
counter-criticism to the article of Richard A. Proctor in The
Open Court of June 9, entitled "Common Consent and the
Future Life?" The attempt is made to prove by the doctrine of
mathematical probabilities or chances, that the doctrine of
immortality can only be true in one chance in ten chances, if it
is to be decided by the "common consent" of the "average
minds." Without touching upon the method of proof, let us see
where this same doctrine of probabilities will lead us if applied
to other things or questions about which there is " considerable
difficulty " of decision.
But first let us turn Professor Proctor's proposition around
a little and see what it may be made to present to us. By the
professor's mathematical deductions the belief in immortality by
"common consent " is not likely to be true at all, or only in the
ratio of one chance in ten, or one hundred, or some other higher
THE OPEN COURT.
33:
mathematical limit. Therefore, he discards this proof or argu-
ment as to immortality as utterly valueless in a scientific or
rational aspect, as nothing but the merest blind guess work, viith
all the chances against it. It is the belief in immortality against
the whole field of real difficulties, mathematical certainties and
logical proofs.
But one opinion always provokes another. Suppose (and it
is a valid supposition, since some races of men, sects and individ-
uals have always disbelieved in the immortality of the soul) that
the greater part, the large majority, of men disbelieved in immor-
tality; that by "common consent " it was held to be true that
there was no immortal life, no life beyond this present life. Or,
since science is soon expected to bring most men to see the falsity
of their belief in immortality, suppose in A. D. 2100 it is found
that most men of average ability shall hold the belief in the non-
immortality of the soul, by "common consent," what logically
would then follow from the application of Professor Proctor's
method of demonstration? Namely this: Whatever belief is
held upon a subject of " considerable " or "real" difficulty by
"common consent" can only be true one chance in ten, or some
higher ratio — that is, it is not true at all — it is an untruth, a
falsehood. Now apply this principle to either of the hypothetical
cases instanced, and what is the result? By the same logic, the
same method of mathematical demonstration, it would be shown
that it can not be true that there is no immortality, or only to the
extent of one chance in ten or oneliundred. Therefore its alter-
native must be true and must be accepted, viz: that immortality
is true in the ratio of chances of nine to ten or ninety-nine to one
hundred.
Or, take the question of the existence of a personal (spiritual)
God, which I suppose Professor Proctor would agree was a sub-
ject of " some difficulty. " The " common consent " of all men,
(perhaps we may say in all ages) has been that of a belief in such
a being. But by the application of the professor's theory of
mathematical probabilities the question is easily settled in the
negative "by a large majority."
Or, take the question of the liberty, or equality of civil rights,
of men, a matter of "considerable difficulty " as history shows.
In America by " common consent" this belief is held as an-
nounced in the Declaration of Independence. And does Pro-
fessor Proctor want to applv his theory of mathematical proba-
bilities to this doctrine to show its absurdity or falsehood?
Or, take the question of honesty, or the belief among men by
" common consent " that one should tell the truth and should not
steal. This is a subject of "considerable difficulty," too, at least
there is quite a divergence of practice among men in regard to
it. Do we have to apply the doctrine of mathematical probabili-
ties to this belief to decide its validity?
If Professor Proctor would substitute for "common consent"
the common instinct among men as to the belief in immortality a
juster element would be introduced into the discussion, and the
question could then be studied scientifically in the line of its
proper demonstration.
Is it not true that the " common consent" of the "average
minds " among men in regard to moral, religious (not speculative)
and spiritual questions, and as to the faiths and beliefs of men in
regard to God and the immortal life, is a legitimate and convinc-
ing argument in itself, and one which no scientific or mathemati-
cal demonstration can reach or unsettle, since it is not founded on
intellectual conceptions or based on scientific information?
H. D. Stevens.
BOOK REVIEWS.
L'Heredite Psychologiqi'e. Par Tli. Ribot. Troisieme Edi-
tion. Corrigee et augmentee. Paris, 1SS7.
It is to be regreted that the latest English issue of this book
is a mere reprint of an antiquated translation, and we now call
attention to the third edition of Ribot's Heredity, which is just
out and has not as yet found a translator.
In the preface M. Ribot, says: "This new edition has been
revised in many points. The researches into hereditary insanity
or insanity of the degenerated, and the important hypothesis of
Weismann concerning the physiological cause of heredity could
not be passed by in silence. Many things hive been gained from
recent investigations especially from the excellent work of M.
De^'erine: UHiriditi dans les maladies du systeme nerveuxi"
Undoubtedly M. Ribot is the man whose opinion on this
question is to be valued most highly, the solution of which can
give us a clue to the scientific explanation of evolution. "We do
not know for certain," says Ribot, "what man was in the beginning
and we can not say what man will be in the future. But imagine
him in his natural state and in that of an extreme civilization.
Compare the savage, almost naked, his brain full ol images but
void of ideas, * * * with a highly civilized man, cultivated
in art and literature * * * and practicing Goethe's precept,
"Try to understand yourself and the world." Between the two
extremes the distance seems infinite and yet it has been passed
through gradually, step by step. Without doubt, this evolution
resulting from the complex action of numerous causes, is not
entirely due to heredity. But we would not have succeeded in
our task, if the reader has not now comprehended that heredity
has largely contributed to produce evolution."
We select a few passages from one of the most interesting
chapters of Ribot's book, Lcs hypotheses sur VMriditi. On the
ground that "psychical heredity is one aspect of biological hered-
ity," M. Ribot reviews the different explanations proposed by
Darwin, Galton, Herbert Spencer, Haeckel and Weismann. The
theories of the three former savants are mostly known, or at least
easily accessible, to an English speaking public. The views of the
two latter, Haeckel and Weismann, are of quite recent date, and a
translation of what the author says about their theories may be
welcome. We translate from pp. 403-405.
" The latest hypothesis of Haeckel, known under the name of
ferigenesis, is a dynamical explanation of heredity. Darwin's and
also Spencer's hypotheses do not reduce heredity to a purely
anatomical explanation, but these writers attributed less impor-
tance to the dynamical properties of living matter than did
Haeckel.
"The comparison so often made between an organism and a
State, Haeckel maintains, is no vague and far-fetched analogy. The
cells are veritable citizens of a State, and we may consider the
body of any animal with its strong centralization as a cellular
monarchy, the vegetable organism, the centralization of which is
weaker, as a cellular republic. The cell, however, is not the ele
mentary and most simple organism. Below it there is the cytode,
viz., a mass of albuminoid substance without nucleus and without
membrane.
" Cells and cytodes are the vital units. The living matter of
moneres and these cytodes Van Beneden and Haeckel call flas-
son, i. e., the primordial plastic substance of which protoplasm is
only a differentiation.
"The plassoncan be resolved into molecules which are not
resolvable into smaller molecules, but constitute the ultimate limit
of division. These are the flastidules. It is in the nature of
plastidules that we must search for an explanation of heredity in
all its forms. " According to Haeckel each atom possesses a cer-
tain amount of force; it is animated. The atom has a soul, which
means that it exhibits the phenomena of pleasure and displeasure,
of desire and aversion, attraction and repulsion. If every atom
is endowed with sensation and will, these two qualities can
not be considered as belonging to the organism as a whole, and
we must, therefore, search for the properties which distinguish
the plastidules from the molecules, and constitute the real essence
of life.
" The most important of these properties, it appears to us, is
the faculty of reproduction or memory, which appears in all pro-
cesses of evolution, and especially in the reproduction of organ-
isms. All plastidules possess memory ; this faculty is absent in
334
THE OPEN COURT.
the case of all other molecules. According to Haeckel memory
is not onlv a property of organized matter, he ascribes memory 'to
all living matter. This memory, common to plastidules, explains
heredity. Haeckel attributes to each plastidule an undulatory
rhythmical motion.
" Bv the generative act a certain quantity of the protoplasm or
albuminoid matter of the parents is transmitted to the child, and
with this protoplasm an individual and special form of molecular
motion. These molecular motions call forth the phenomena of
life and are their real cause. There is also an original plastidulary
motion which is transmitted by the parental cell and preserved.
The influence of external circumstance, from which adaptation
and variability result, produces a modification of this molecular
movement."
" Haeckel accordingly draws the conclusion : ' Heredity is the
memory of plastidules,' or the transmission of the movement of
plastidules and adaptation consists in acquired movements.
" Haeckel trusts that, in this way, he has given a monistic and
mechanical explanation of heredity ; monistic, for in the plasti-
dules the ordinary properties of matter, life and consciousness are
united, mechanical, for his hypothesis is based on the principle of
a communication of motion.
" More recently Weismann has proposed a new and important
theory of heredity under the name of continuity of the germ-
plasma (Continuitdt des Keimflasma ah Grundlage einer Theorieder
Vererbnng). No hypothesis affirms more positively the invaria-
ble and indelible character of hereditary transmission. It is based
upon the investigations of different contemporary embryologists,
especially of Van Beneden, who have shown that fecundation con-
sists in a fusion of the male and female germ {noyau), that it is a
copulation only of germs, and that the body of the cell does not
take any part in it. These germs contain the germinative plasma.
But if a new being is produced only a part of this plasma is used,
the rest forming a reserve which serves to constitute the germi-
native cell of the offspring. In other words, the plasma which is
contained in the germinative cell does not all participate in the
reproduction of the new organism. Some part of it is designed
for the conservation of the race, and deposited from the beginning
in the future sexual organs. The author represents the continuity
of this germinative plasma by the figure of a long root, from
which offshoots spring at certain distances, representing the indi-
viduals of successive generations. Each of the two germs which
unite in fecundation, says Welsman, should contain the germina-
tive plasma of the respective parents, the progenitors of this gen-
eration. At the same time it contains the nuclear plasma of the
germinative cells of the grandparents and the great-grandparents.
The nuclear plasma of the different generations exists in always
smaller quantities, according to the distance of the generation.
" The germinative plasmas of the father and mother constitute
two halves of the child's germ cell, of the grandfather only one-
fourth; that of the tenth generation back constitutes only one
thousand twenty-fourth part. Yet the latter may very well reap-
pear in the formation of a new being. The phenomena of atavism
prove that the germinative plasma of ancestors can manifest its
persistence even in the thousandth generation by characters which
were long lost.
" These hypotheses show the difficulties of a scientific explana-
tion of heredity. But, after all, Ribot says: Heredity is one of
the most stable manifestations of determinism. In the domain of
life continuity cannot take a more palpable form. * * * Hered-
ity is identity, viz.: the partial identity of the materials which
constitute the organism of the parents and that of the child.
* * * By heredity we feel ourselves linked into the irrefrag-
able chain of cause-, and effects, and by heredity our poor person-
ality [noire cliitive ■personated') is attached to the ultimate origin
of things through the infinite concatenation of necessities." p. c.
The Problem of Evil: An Introduction to the Practical
Sciences. By Daniel Greenleaf Thompson, author of A Sys-
tem of Psychology. London: Longmans, Green & Co., 1887.
Cloth, Svo, pp. 28r.
This work, less abstract and scientific in its terminology than
the previous and more extensive work by the same author, A
System of Psychology assumes the philosophicalp ositions
therein maintained, and proceeds therefrom to a discussion of the
important questions respecting belief and practical duty involved
in the consideration of "The Problem of Evil." The author is,
in his main positions, in cordial agreement with the English utili-
tarion school of thinkers. From this standpoint, in the work
now before us, he criticises Sedgwick, Green and other represent-
atives of intuitional psychology with great acuteness and vigor.
After expressing his dissent from the various theological
explanations of the origin and character of moral evil based upon
supernaturalism, Mr. Thompson proceeds to compare moral evil
with evils which are purely physical in their nature, and deduces
the conclusion that pain is the index of evil, both moral and phys-
ical— the former differing from the latter merely in the additional
element of volition which attends it. Evil, as suffered, is always
pain, even if it be moral evil, the latter being only pain arising
from certain peculiar causes. Pain being a phenomenon of con-
sciousness or mind, since we are unable to determine scientifically
the ultimate origin of mind, the origin of evil is equally beyond
our ken. It is still open to us, however, to study it as an existing
fact; to determine, so far as may be, its proximate causes, and to
seek for the most effectual and scientific means for its elimination.
It is to this practical task that our author applies himself in the
work before us.
If pain is the essential element in moral evil, it follows that
the effort for its elimination is but another expression for the
search for happiness. Our author's philosophy, however, is
widely removed from that popular conception of hedonistic utili-
tarianism which issues in the conscious pursuit of individual
pleasure. His trenchant criticism on the intuitional philosophy
of Thomas Hill Green, indeed, is based largely upon the fact that
the strife for that ideal perfection of the nature of the individual
which is held up as the chief incentive for human action is essen-
tially egoistic in its character. Mr. Thompson's utilitarianism, on
the contrary, is profoundly altruistic in its outcome. " The chief
good," he maintains, "is not coincident necessarily with the max-
imum happiness of the individual, who may be able only to find
his good in his own selfish ends; but, on the other hand, the latter
may be so educated as to derive his highest happiness from the
happiness of others, and find his chief good in life in contributing
to the realization of the social summum boiium" (p. 44). The cul-
tivation of an altruistic disposition is, therefore, in the opinion of
our author, of prime importance in the struggle against moral
evil. "Without this, enlightenment is wholly in vain; men are
not made virtuous bv making them understand intellectually what
virtue is."
The observation of nature also demonstrates that the chief
social good is most likely to be attained when the largest possible
liberty is allowed to individual conduct. The two general rules,
therefore, which should guide us in our efforts for the extinction
of moral evil are these:
"First — Aim at the minimum of extrinsic restraint and the
maximum of individual liberty.
"Second — Aim at the most complete and universal develop-
ment of the altruistic character."
The four chief methods of reducing evil Mr. Thompson finds
to be: "The industrial method, working for the control and mod-
ification of material forces; the political method, aiming to estab-
lish security and justice; the philanthropic method, seeking to
THE OPBN COURT.
33 S
remove evil by direct altruistic effort; and the educational method,
which endeavors to effect the development of individual altruistic
character" (p. 95). The chief obstacles to the attainment of the
desired end are: The artificial morality founded on an assumed
supernatural system; the elevation of institutions above the indi-
vidual, which "brings up the controversy between authority and
individualism;" the allied socialistic fallacy, and the persistent
retention of egoistic dispositions in individval men and women.
Under the head of "The Great Theological Superstition," Mr-
Thompson attacks with rationality and vigor, yet in good spirit'
the theological conception of sin as untrue and immoral, leading
in various directions to perverted notions of morality, checking
the altruistic spirit by limiting it, in effect, to those of kindred
doctrinal fellowship, and becoming in many ways "no mean hin-
derance to the growth of the highest and best religious sentiments.''
Under the title of "The Institutional Fetich," our author
reprobates that prevalent conception of our time which asserts for
the family, the State and the church a rightful authority over the
individual, independent of their intrinsic utility. He combats
especially some recently expressed opinions of Bishop Littlejohn
and President Seelve in support of " the unqualified sovereignty
of the family and the State," and strenuously maintains the right
of private independent judgment, — the duty of criticising freely
the imperfections of existing institutions and striving intelligently
and wisely for a more perfect social order. He finds the doctrine
of authority to be the chief obstacle to the elevation and enfran-
chisement of woman, and an interference with the just rights of
the child, who should be recognized as an independent human
being having his "own independent ends, which should be
respected." Admitting the defects in existing democratic institu-
tions, he finds the cause of these defects in egoism, not in individ-
ualism. "The root of the evil is a self-centered disposition which
is not to be remedied by setting one man above another." This
principle of authority stimulates an aggravated development of
egoism, and increases the evil instead of abating it.
Under the head of " The Socialistic Fallacy," Mr. Thompson
criticises the prevalent tendency to find in socialism and industrial
co-operation the relief for all the evils which afflict society and
the individual. "Co-operative organization must be a microcosm
of the general life, and subject to the same conditions." Hence,
we can expect no special virtues to be developed in the commune
or the co-operative society which do not exist in individuals or in
the existing social organism. On the contrary, the success of
socialism implies the elevation of competent individual leaders
above the masses, and thus stimulates a growth of egoism which
is fatal to the highest moral and social conditions. The preva-
lence of the existing militant system is also deprecated as tending
in a like manner to defeat all efforts, however earnest, for the pro-
motion of the altruistic character. The style of our author is
admirably clear, and the general tone of the discussion, covering
as it does a wide range of practical questions which are upper-
most in the thought of millions at the present day, will doubtless
secure for Mr. Thompson's book a wide circle of intelligent read-
ers. No thoughtful person can rise from its perusal without a
quickened sense of personal responsibility as regards the import-
ant problem herein discussed, and a sincere recognition of the
thoughtfulness, candor and ability displayed in its consideration-
in full are : 'The Historical (Jewish) Jesus and tin- Mythical (Egyp-
tian) Christ; Paul as (t Gnostic Opponent 0/ Peter, not the Apostle
of Historic Christianity: The Logic of the Lord, or Pre-Christian
Savings Ascribed to Jesus the Christ; The Devil of Darkness, or
Evil in the Light of Evolution: Man in Search of His Soul During
Fifty 'Thousand Tears, and Haw he Found It ; The Seven Souls of
Man and Their Culmination in Christ. Mr. Massey's main pur-
pose is to show that the Christ, like Osiris and other heroes of
astronomical fables, is " mythically the re-born sun, mystically
the re-born spirit or glorified ghost of man." Substantially the
same ground had been taken in his book entitled Natural Genesis.
The view of Jesus as a solar myth is sustained by many curious
analogies between the New Testament and the Egyptian records,
but some of these comparisons seem too fanciful, and Natural
Genesis appears, from its author's own statements, to have found
little favor with the eminent Egyptologists in the British Museum.
A poet is, as such, singularly incapacitated for success in abstruse
investigations like those undertaken by Mr. Massey, who labors
under the additional disadvantage of not having had any early
training in exact scholarship. That he should have worked his
way up so far above the privations and ignorance of his boyhood
is greatly to his honor, especially as he has never lost that sym-
pathy with the toiling, suffering millions which has made him a
poet. It could not make him an expert antiquarian also, though
he might still win laurels as a novelist. His account of the pre-
historic sayings of Jesus is especially defective, and makes no
reference to one which occurs in an early manuscript of the gos-
pels, and runs somewhat thus : " That same day he saw one plow-
jig on the Sabbath, and said unto him: 'Blessed art thou, O man,
jf thou knowest what thou art doing; but if thou knowest it not,
then art thou a transgressor of the law and accursed.' " The rep-
resentation of Paul as a gnostic, who denounces Peter as the man
of sin, or Anti-Christ, may be nearer to the truth than is the
orthodox view that the two apostles worked in harmony; but
even the good intention of showing that there is nothing in the-
osophv or isoteric Buddhism worth keeping secret from all except
the initiated, does not justify dwelling so long on the old fancy of
our seven souls, the first of which is in the blood and the second
in the breath, while the place of the other five is immaterial in
every sense. We can agree with Mr. Massey that there should
be no more mystery about religion, whatever we may think of his
praises of spiritualism, of his censure of vaccination and vivisec-
tion, or of his fondness for sensational hits.
The Historical Jests, and Other Lectures. By Gerald
Massey. Villa Bordighiera, New Southgate, London, W.
Those who love the author of " Babe Christabel," "There's
No Dearth of Kindness," "Lyrics of Love," "The People's
Advent," " The Cry of the Unemployed," " Nebraska, or the Abo-
litionist to His Bride," and other poems as precious for their sym-
pathy with the poor, the persecuted and the oppressed as Whit-
tier's, may be much surprised at these six pamphlets. Their titles
The Art Amateur for July has many fine and interesting
illustrations. The colored plate representing The Kingfishers,
after a painting by Miss Ellen Welby, is very spirited and full of
life and motion. The colors are bright indeed, but we presume
this appearance of crudity is increased in the reproduction. The
wood cut well represents the washing day atmosphere, hazy and
picturesque with steam and suds of Amanda Brewster's " Lavoir
in the Gatanais "—wherever that may be. Another wood cut in
different style, very bold and free — is from a drawing by Thomas
Hovenden from his own picture. It represents " Vendean Peas-
ants Preparing for Insurrection." The subject, an interior of a
peasants' house, with men and women earnestly discussing or
listenening is vigorously portrayed — the figures are good — the
attitudes natural and the faces strong and expressive. The
sketches of costume are varied and interesting. The technical
matter is also good, and the instructions to amateur photographers
and decorators are full of value. William Hart, in an article on
Painting Landscapes and Cattle, says some very true things in
regard to the importance of shadow in painting and the effect of
chiaro-oscuro on color. The rest of the literary work is less inter-
esting than usual. The first article gives a dreary enumeration
of deception and treachery among art dealers, which may be useful
336
THE OPE-N COURT.
as warning to purchasers if not instructive to students of art-
Theodore Child gives an account of the Paris Salon, but he
takes delight in damping the pleasure naturally felt at our coun-
try-woman, Miss Gardner's, reception of a third-class medal, by
a flippant attack upon the artist. That Miss Gardner's work
should be influenced by the counsels and help of her distinguished
friend and master is not surprising — it is hard to separate the
merit of a pupil from the value of his teacher. But Miss Gard-
ner has worked long and earnestly, and we believe conscien-
tiously and it is as disrespectful to the jury as to her to assert
that she is "a humbug," and the award of the medal "simply
ridiculous." Mist Gardner's friends may be consoled, however,
on turning to another article of the same critic — on the Millet
exhibit. We looked eagerly to this page, hoping for a descrip-
tion of the works of the great artist displayed there. Instead of
this the critic favors us with his judgment that Millet was " a
very poor painter, and that hi6 pictures are good in spite of their
execution which is generally coarse, brutal, hesitating and
monotonous." If he condemns Millet so mercilessly, Miss Gard-
ner may prefer his censure to his praise. He seems utterly
insensible to all the wonderful charm of land and sky which
Millet has rendered so wonderfully. He appears also never to
have learned Coleridge's great lesson, " never to judge a work of
art by its defects." He says some good words of Millet's repre-
sentation of humanity, but he does not seem to recognize his
beauty. The portrait of Millet i6 a fine wood cut and has some-
thing of his characteristics, but the wood cut is not delicate
enough for human portraiture.
Mind for July sustains its high reputation as an exponent of
psychologic subjects by very able and interesting essays. The
first is a continuation of Professor William James' highly inter-
esting paper on "The Perception of Space," in which many curi-
ous and important facts are brought to light. F. H. Bradley has
an essay on "Association and Thought," the intention of which is
to show in outline how thought comes to exist. Professor John
Dewey contributes a paper on "Knowledge or Idealization," and
E. Gurney on "Further Problems of Hypnotism." The discus-
sions are by S. II. Hodgson on "Subject and Object in Psychol-
ogy;" W. L. Mackenzie on "Recent Discussions on the Mus-
cular Sense," and M. H. Towry "On the Doctrine of Natural
Kinds." The Critical Notices are "J. Dewey, Psychology," by
the editor; "W. Knight, Hume," by G. F. Stout; "Scottish Meta-
physics Reconstructed," by W. H. S. Monck; "M. Carriere, the
Philosophical Ideas of the Renaissance," by T. Whittaker. There
is a full list of notices of new philosophical works and interesting
notes, published by Williams & Norgate, 14 Henrietta street,
Covent Garden, London.
The June number of the Revue de Belglque contains notices
of two interesting books. A Canadian missionary, Petitot, has
published the results of his study of Indian myths in a work en-
titled Traditions indiennes du Canada nord-ouest. Paris: Maison-
neuve, 1S86, 538 pp. An answer to Seeley's Natural Religion has
been made by a French scientist, named Guyan, under the title of
Virreligion de Vavenir. Paris: Alcan, 1887,508 pp., Svo. This
prophecy of "the Irreiigion of the Future" is reviewed by Count
Goblet d'Alviella, who praises highly its ability. Guyan begins
by a survey of the historical development of religion, which he
shows to consist essentially in intimate relations between man and
God. His second part insists that, in laying aside its intolerance,
its dogmatism, its belief in oracles, devils, etc., and its reliance on
sacraments, and its idolatry of Scripture, religion has grown at the
same time purer and weaker, so that there is every reason to ex-
pect the process of self-purification to end in its ceasing to exist.
Any one who doubts this will do well to compare the political and
social force exerted by the church six hundred years ago, with
the amount to-day. M. Guyan goes on to predict that morality
will survive religion, and that the place of the dissolving churches
will be amply filled by schools of philosophy, ethical culture soci-
eties, philanthropic associations and art clubs. D'Alviella's own
view of these questions will be given in a later article. His quo-
tations from Virreligion de Vavenir show that it is eminently
worthy of a speedy translation into English.
PRESS NOTICES.
The Open Court, published in this city, is one of the ablest journals of its
class in the United States. — American Commercial Traveler, Chicago, III.
The Open Court, published at Chicago, lias in its issue of June 23d some
very interesting articles. Some of the best writers of the country are contrib-
utors.— Narragansett (R. I.) Times.
Under the above title ["Jails and Jubilees "J Mrs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton
contributes an interesting article to The Open Court — the brilliant Chicago
successor of the Boston Index — which puts strong points in a readable way on
the Irish-English question. — Hartford Times.
The lecture on "The Identity of Language and Thought," by Professor
Max Miiller, published in the last number of The Open Court, is rather the
best article in that journal of useful and entertaining literature. To us that one
lectt r? is worth the entire subscription price of the magazine fcr one year. —
Daily Reporter, Maquoketa, Iowa.
The Open Court is a fortnightly journal published at Chicago and devoted
to the work of establishing religion and ethics upon a scientific basis. It is un-
doubtedly an able periodical. The current number has articles from Richard A.
Proctor, John Burroughs, Prof. Adams, Moncure D. Conway, and from other
distinguished scholars and scientists. — Lebanon (Ind.) Pioneer.
Each number of The Open Court gives additional evidence of the correct-
ness of the Herald's opinion expressed on receipt of the first issue. There are,
we are glad to know, among our readers mony men of more than average intel-
ligence, who would like just such a publication. To such we would say, send
to B, F. Underwood, 169 La Salle street, Chicago, for a sample copy. — Areola
(l\l.) Herald.
The Open Court is a new fortnightly journal lately established in Chicago,
having for its object the consideration of any and all subjects that effect us in-
dependent of all creeds and dogmas with a view to establishing ethics and re-
ligion upon a scientific basis. The Open Court will be greatly appreiiated
by thousands of intelligent men, in and out of the church, who have become
tired of old superstitions, and who prefer reason to mere assertion. — The Plain
Viezv (Minn.) News.
We are in receipt of copies of the Open Court, a freethinkers' magazine,
published fortnightly at Chicago. It declares its work to be that of " establish-
ing religion upon a scientific basis." In other words it will endeavor to scien-
tize away the Christian religion. While we have no sympathy with such aim,
we are glad to get The Open Court, as it contains some excellent contributions
from eminent writers of the materialistic and agnostic schools, is ably edited,
and its letterpress well nigh perfection. — Nelsonville (Ohio) News.
Our readers will remember that some months ago we spoke very highly of
the new literary venture at Chicago, The Open Court. We have now received
it regularly for several months, and the gnod opinion then expressed of its
initial number is more than justified. It contains the ablest and freshest thought
t f the age, and the printing and paper are faultless. To a thoughtful, intelli-
gent reader we know of nothing so well worth the money as this paper. It is
published fortnightly, 24 pages, $3 per year. — Anti- Monopolist t Enterprise, Kas.
Its object is to investigate the great moral, social, religious and philosoph-
ical questions affecting the interests of mankind, from a scientific and inde-
pendent standpoint. The editors aim for the truth and right, which can be best
discovered by unprejudiced and impartial examination and discussion of every
matter, and while they freely express their own opinions in the articles written
by themselves, they expect contributors to exercise a like independence. The
journal is ably edited, and among its contributors are some of the greatest
scholars and thinkers. — Sauk County (Wis.) Democrat.
The table of contents of The Open Court for the first half of July is equally
rich and varied with those of the preceding number-:. Professor F. Max
Miiller's essay on "The Identity of Language and Thought," Part I., is the
initial article, followed by a lecture by Professor E. D. Cope on " The Thelo<?y
of Evolution," in reply to Dr. Montgomery's criticisms upon the subject. Other
leading articles are: "A Notable Picture," by R. S. Perrin; "A Modern Mys-
tery-play," by M. C. O'Byrne; "Failure of the Radical Method," by Rev.
Julius H. Ward; " Competition in Trades," by Wheelbarrow. Editorials dis-
cuss "The Case of Professor Egbert C. Smyth, of Andover," " Public Opin-
ion," "Hypnotism," " Co-operative Congress in England," supplemented with
" Editorial Notes." The other departments are supplied with a like variety of
articles upon equally interesting current topics. — )Visconsi?z State "Journal.
The Open Court.
A Fortnightly Journal,
Devoted to the Work of Establishing Ethics and Religion Upon a Scientific Basis.
Vol. I. No. 13.
CHICAGO, AUGUST 4, 1887.
\ Three Dollars per Year.
1 Singli Copies, 15 ns.
[The third of Prof. F. Max Midler's three lectures
on the "Science of Thought" is commenced in this
issue. This lecture on " The Simplicity of Thought,"
is not published nor to be published in England, having
been secured exclusively for The Open Court, in
which it is printed from the author's manuscript. This
distinguished philologist believes that language is the
history of human thought, ami no other man living prob-
ably is as competent as he to read this history under-
standingly, especially those pages which indicate how
men reasoned and what they thought during the world's
intellectual childhood.]
THE SIMPLICITY OF THOUGHT.*
BY PROF. F. MAX MllLLER.
One of three Lectures on the Science of Thought delivered at
the Royal Institution, London, March, 1S7S.
Part 1.
If the conclusions at which we arrived in our last
lecture are correct — if thought and language are identica',
or, at all events, inseparable — it would seem to follow
that all our knowledge is " merely verbal " or " merely
nominal." To most people this will seem a sufficient
condemnation of any argument that could lead to so pre-
posterous a conclusion. If we want to express our most
supreme contempt for any proposition we sav it consists
of mere words. What in our days we are most proud
of is that in all our pursuits we deal with facts and not
with words. Words, we are told, are the daughters of
the earth, things the sons of heaven. A philosophy
therefore, which would attempt to change all our knowl-
edge into mere words, could hardly expect a patient hear-
ing; certainly not in the country of Bacon.
It is difficult to deal with such an objection, because
it really conveys no meaning whatever. There must be
sense in every word we use in argument, and, as I pointed
out before, there is no sense whatever in such an expres-
sion as mere -words. There are no such things as mere
words, unless we look for them in those vast cemeteries
which we call lexicons or dictionaries. There we find,
indeed, mere words, dead words, unmeaning words. The
German language, as if to warn us against taking such
corpses for living words, calls them wb'rter, and
* Copyright, 1SS7, by The Open Court Publishing Co.
distinguishes them from ivorte. It calls a dictionary a
■worterbuch, not a -wort-bitch.
Outside a dictionary, however, ami outside a mad-
house, there are no such things as mere words; noi is
there, on the other side, any such thing as mere thought.
Things, it has been well said, arc thinks, and thinks
are words. Can we know anything except by means
of a word? Is it possible to become conscious of any
thought except by means of a name? We may distin-
guish, no doubt, between names, and concepts, and per-
cepts. But percepts (a term which I use for presentation,
the German Vorstellung\ percepts by themselves are
nothing, concepts by themselves are nothing, while it is
only the three together — percept, concept and name —
that constitute what we mean by real knowledge.
Let us try an experiment. It is possible to imagine
that people, say some primitive savages, had never seen
or heard of gold. How would they become acquainted
with it? In digging they might receiye the impression
of something glittering, but eyen that impression would
be of no consequence to them unless they were startled
by it, unless their attention was directed to it; and thus
the mere sensation of glittering became changed by them
into something; that glitters. That change of the sub-
jective sensation into an object of sense is our -work — it
is the first manifestation of the law of causality within us.
But that glittering object is even then nothing to an
intelligent obseryer unless he can lay hold of it by some
concept; that is, unless he can name it, unless he can call
it glittering. We, at our time of life, find no difficulty
in calling a thing glittering, or bright, or shining. We
have names and concepts ready-made for everything.
But all these names and concepts had first to be made.
A number of single percepts of glittering, glimmering,
flickering, sparkling, flashing, flaming, gleaming things
had first to be comprehended under one general aspect,
while at the same time a root had to be found to express
it. How these roots were formed I explained in my first
lecture. They all owe their origin to the clamor concom-
itans of social acts. Thus glittering goes back to a
root GUAR, which meant at first to melt, to fuse by
heat. From it ghrita, liquified butter, or ghec. What
was melted and liquified by heat was generally not only
warm but also shining, so that the same root, in its
objective application, came to mean to melt — that is to
say, to be in a state of melting, to glitter, to shine. From
33§
THE OPEN COURT.
that root, used in that meaning, we have in English such
variously differentiated forms as to glint, to glitter, to
glisten, to gleam, to glimmer.
With such a root, then, which was at the same time
a concept, it was possible to conceive and name that glit-
tering thing which had been dug up with many other
things, and which excited our attention chiefly by this
distinguishing feature of being bright. But by being
called glitter this dug up thing was not yet gold. Far
from it. Its old name in Sanskrit, hiranya, said no
more than that it glittered, and not everything that glit-
ters is gold. Still, even that first name marks an enor-
mous advance beyond the mere fright excited in an ani-
mal by the sight of a flaring object, or beyond the mere
human stare, or even the phantasma in our memory. It
is knowledge — not much, as yet, but it is knowledge; it
is the work of intellect, not the mere passive stupor of
the senses.
The same object might be called and conceived bv
many new names, and with every new name new
knowledge would be added. Whatever new qualities a
miner discovered as distinguishing this glitter from
other kinds of glitter, would be added by means of new
names, or new adjectives. By this process what we call
the intension of the first name would grow fuller and
fuller. But we must remember, every one of these new
qualities could be known again by the same process
only by which the first quality of glittering was known,
namely, by being named. Suppose our primitive sav-
ages wanted small stones for building purposes. If
among the stones they were breaking they met with
some that would not break, they would throw them
away, and thus gold might be called rubbish or refuse.
If, on the contrary, they looked out for material that
would bend and not break on being struck, they would
pick out the old glitter which they had thrown away as
rubbish, and now call it pliant, flexible, ductile, malle-
able. All these properties were attended to, known and
named at the same moment. Gold was now not only
bright, but malleable, and ductile, and by a constant
repetition of the process of naming and conceiving, and
conceiving and naming, people arrived at last at what
we call true knowledge of gold, including its specific
gravity, and its power of "resisting nitro-muriatic acid,
and all the rest. That true knowledge may be more
full, more accurate, more concerned with essential quali-
ties than our first knowledge of mere glitter. But there
is no difference in kind. Our perfect knowledge is as
much nominal or verbal as our imperfect knowledge
was, nor can it ever be anything else.
It may be said by those who think it right to despise
what they call verbal knowledge, that such knowledge
would not help us to distinguish a gold sovereign from
a brass penny. But they forget that without a name we
should not know either a gold sovereign or a brass
penny, much less be able to distinguish them. We may
do what we like, we cannot jump out of our skin, and
the skin of all our thoughts is language. WTe begin, no
doubt, with sensuous irritation and intuition, but intuition
by itself is not knowledge, it is blind; conception by
itself is not knowledge, it is empty; a name by itself is
not knowledge, it is mere sound. Only the three to-
gether represent what we mean by knowledge, and the
final embodiment of that knowledge is the word.
If that is so with the names of things which we can
touch and handle, it is far more so with the names of
objects which we cannot reach with our senses at all.
Let us take, for instance, the word species. No one has
ever seen or handled a species. Even if we should see
what used to be meant by species, we should not know
it for a species, unless we had first called it so. The
first question, therefore, is, How did we ever come into
the possession of such a name as species? This is a
mere matter of historical research. We know from
history that species was a Latin rendering of the Greek
eldotr, and this tldo? has been adapted in Greek philosophy
as a convenient term for distinguishing a lower from a
higher class. Thus bull-dogs, greyhounds, spaniels, ter-
riers would be called species, that is lower classes or
sub-classes, while dog would be considered as a higher
class or genus, till we ascend still higher and compre-
hend all dogs, pigs, cows, and horses as a higher genus
animal, of which dogs are then a species only.
This, however, was clearly a technical emplo3'ment
of the terms species and genus, and these names must
have existed before, when they had a meaning very dif-
ferent from that assigned to them by the founders of
logic. A genus meant originally a breed, and was
used for any living beings, whether animals or plants,
which could be traced back to common ancestors. Eidos
or species, on the contrary, meant originally no more
than what is seen, the aspect, or appearance or shape of
things. These two words were found convenient even
during a very primitive phase of thought. Stones that
were black or gray or yellow, were considered as differ-
ent sets or sorts or species. They appeared like each
other, but no more. Dogs on the contrary, that were
black or gray or yellow, though if their color alone
were considered, they might be treated as sets or sorts or
species, were conceived as a genus or breed, if it could
be shown that they belonged to one and the same litter.
Thus the two kinds of classification, which seem to us
the result of the latest scientific thought, the genealogi-
cal and the morphological, were foreshadowed in the
earliest words of our language. In Sanskrit also we
have gati, kith, used in the logical sense of genus, while
species is expressed by dkriti, which means form.
Even for logical purposes these two words genus
and species were by no means very appropriate. What
was a genus from one point of view, became a species
THE OPEN COURT.
339
from another, what was a species for one purpose, be-
came a genus for another. Genus and sub-genus, class
and sub-class would therefore have answered the pur-
pose far better.
The very fact, however, that what we from one
point of view call a species, may from another point of
view be called by us a genus, shows at all events that
logical genus and species are of our own making, that
we name and conceive them, and that there is no such
thing as genus or species, in the logical acceptation of
of these words, independent of ourselves.
The confusion, however, became greater still when
these two terms were transferred from logical to physi-
cal science. What a genus was in nature was easy to
understand. Individuals descended from common ances-
tors formed a genus or a breed. In some cases the de-
scent from common ancestors might be doubtful, but
the definition of genus would not be affected by such
scientific doubts.
But what was a species? If people had asked that
question before they introduced that word into the tech-
nical language of physiology we should have been saved
much trouble and vexation of spirit. If different species
had, or may have had, common ancestors, they would
form together one genus/ if not, they would form dif-
ferent genera. A third is not given, and there is no
room therefore for species in nature.
We must never forget that what we really have to
deal with, what is given us to digest in language and
thought, are individuals and nothing else. These indi-
viduals either have common ancestors or they have not,
at least so far as our knowledge goes. If they have
common ancestors they form one breed, if they have
not they form different breeds. And again I say, where
is there room for species?
There may be individuals such as man and monkey,
of which it may still be doubtful whether they had com-
mon ancestors or not. But in that case we have simply
to suspend our judgment, and we know that in the end
the result can only be, either that they belong to the
same breed and in the distant past had common
ancestors, or that they had not. There is no room
for a third possibility, for which we want the name
species.
We may speak, no doubt, of more or less permanent
varieties, and if we like, we may call them species.
But varieties are always varieties of one and the same
original breed, while species are supposed to be some-
thing very different.
If there ever was an Augean stable, it was the stable
of species, and to have cleared that stable with their
powerful brooms will always be the glory of Darwin
and his fellow laborers.
But why did not Darwin go a step further, and
with one stroke kill that hydra which unless entirely
annihilated, is sure to put forth fresh heads again and
again?
Species is a mere chimera, a myth, that is to say a
word made for one purpose and afterward used for an-
other. No one has ever seen a species, and even if
such a thing as a species existed, we should not know
of it till zee had conceived and named it as such. If we
want to discover the real origin of species, we could
only do so by tracing the history of that name and con-
cept from stage to stage back to its first beginnings.
That would be a most interesting undertaking, ami it
would teach us at least this one lesson, that no one has
any right to say that species means this and does not
mean that. Species means neither more nor less than
what different philosophers define it to mean. We often
hear disputants laying down the law with great emphasis
that such a word means this and nothing else. Who has
given them a right to say this? Every word has no
doubt a traditional meaning, but traditional meanings,
like everything that is traditional, are constantly chang-
ing. There is no more in a word than what we put in-
to it, nor can we take more out than we have put into it.
Darwin himself often complains of this! "No one," he
writes, "has drawn any clear distinction between indi-
vidual differences and slight varieties, or between more
plainly marked varieties and sub-species and species."
But why should he not himself have tried to do this?
The endless disputes whether or not there are some fifty
species of British brambles will no doubt cease after
Darwin's researches; but so long as the name of species
remains in natural history by the side of genus, individ-
ual, and variety, we shall never get out of the real bram-
bles of our language, that is, our thought.
Darwin is evidently under the sway of the old defi-
nition that all species were produced by special acts of
creation. I have not been able to trace that definition
to its responsible author, but surely there is no authority
whatever for it. The term species was formed quite
independently of any such theological ideas.
The Greeks, when they used eidos, or species, never
thought of Zeus as their originator. Nor do I think
that in Germany or France or Italv species ever had that
theological odor. Some people seem to imagine that
Darwin's great merit consisted in having proved that
species were not the result of special acts of creation. 1
doubt, however, whether Darwin himself would have
cared either to prove or to disprove this. What he has
proved is, " that the only distinction between species and
well-marked varieties is, that the latter are known or
believed to be connected at the present day by interme-
diate gradations, whereas species iverc formerly thus
connected." Where, then, is the ground of difference
between variety and species, even from Darwin's own
point of view, except in our momentary ignorance?
What used to be called species, will have to be called
34°
THE OPEN COURT.
either genus, sub-genus, or permanent variety. But
there will in future be no room for species in the vocab-
ulary of Natural History.
Does not this show how entirely we think in names,
and how even the strongest minds are under their spell?
If Darwin had asked himself what the true meaning of
species was, if he had studied the history of the word,
which is after all its best definition, he would have seen
that the word has no right at all to exist in natural his-
tory, and his work on the Origin of Species would
really have marked the end of all species, at least within
the realm of nature. A belief in species in natural his-
tory is nothing but scientific mythology, and what Dar-
win calls the search after the undiscovered and undiscov-
erable essence of the term species, is to my mind no
more than the search after the hidden essence of Titans
and Centaurs. As soon as we relegate the term species
to that sphere of thought to which it properly belongs,
the air becomes perfectly clear. We have in nature
individuals and genera or breeds; for what we call varie-
ties are no more than the necessary consequence of the
accumulated effects of individualization. The slight and
almost imperceptible differences which keep individuals
apart from each other, which, in fact, enable them to be
individuals, may by inheritance become stored and
strengthened till they constitute what we call a variety
in nature. Hut these centrifugal forces are always con-
trolled by the centripetal force of nature, and in the end
the genus always prevails over all individualizing
tendencies.
La Salle, III, July 12, 1SS7.
B. F. Underwood, Esq, Chicago:
Dear Sir — Please publish among the contributions the
translation by Dr. Carus of " L. Carrau's Analyse" of Abbot's
Scientifii Theism, in the French Revue Philosofhiqae for June,
[S87, preceded by my correspondence with Mr. Abbot in refer-
ence thereto. Sincerely yours, Edward C. Hegeler.
La Salle, 111., June 30, 1S87.
Francis A". Abbot, Esq., Cambridge, Mass. :
Dear Sir — The French Revue Philosofhiqtie, conducted by
Til. Ribot, brought a long review of your book, Scientific Theism.
I at once told Dr. Carus (who is with me) we should prepare a
translation of it for The Open Court, coming, as it does, from
a journal of so high standing, also from an entirely outside sphere.
I should, however, not like to ask the editor of The Open
Court for the publication before having heard from you, that
you will not look upon this as an unfriendly act against you, as
many remarks in the review (though Dr. Carus who has thor-
oughly read it, thinks it impartial) may be quite hurtful to you.
Also to the readers of The Open Court I should like to
be in the position to say that the publication is satisfactory to
you. Perhaps you will kindly write me a note to that effect
adapted to publication. Sincerely yours,
Edward C. IIegeler.
the translation of M. Carrau's critique of my Scientific Theism in
the Revue Philosophique, for publication in The Open Court, is
received. I have not the slightest objection to criticism of any
sort, and welcome it whenever it is intelligent and fair. I have
not read M. Carrau's article, but that makes no difference.
My book raises questions which go far deeper than is as yet
perceived by any one, and which sooner or later will command
the respectful attention and study of every thinker who aspires
to master the great theme of which it treats. Some of my
American critics (for instance, Prof Royce, Dr. Montgomery,
Mr. Gill and Mr. Underwood) have criticised before they have
understood, and such criticisms are profitless to all concerned.
But the reputation of the Revue Philosophique justifies a hope
that its criticism will at least prove to be ad rem; and there will
be no keener, more patient, or more disinterested reader of any
pertinent criticism of Scientific Theism than its author. But no
criticism of it can possibly be pertinent which is not grounded in
long and intense study. I wait patiently for such criticism as
that. Very truly yours, Francis E. Abbot.
P. S. — You are at liberty to print this note, as you request, if
you care to print it unchanged. A.
NoNQUITT Beach, Mass., July 7, 18S7.
E. < . Hegeler, Esq.:
Dear Sir — Your courteous letter, inquiring if I object to
A REVIEW OF FRANCIS ELLINGWOOD ABBOT'S
SCIENTIFIC THEISM.
BY L. CARRAU.
[Translated from the French in the Revue Philosophique. By Dr. P. Carus.]
F. E. Abbot's Scientific Tlieism is a book which
scandalizes most of the philosophers of to-day. There
is affirmed the existence and intelligibility of a noume-
non, of a thing in itself; the exterior world is supposed
to be really and substantially distinct from its subjective
representations. And what is worse, this assertion is
obtained by sufficiently plausible reasons and with some
strength of dialectics.
In an important introduction Mr. Abbot inquires
into the origin of idealism, which he considers as the
dominant philosophy of our time anel which accortling
to him is an irreconcilable enemy of science. Idealism
has been established by Kant, whose great reform may
be summed up in the passage of the preface to the si cond
edition of his Critique of Pure Reason.
" It has hitherto been assumed that our cognition
must conform to the objects; but all attempts to ascertain
anything about these a priori, by means of conceptions,
and thus to extend the range of our knowleelge, have
been rendered abortive by this assumption. Let us, then,
make the experiment whether we may not be more
successful in metaphysics if we assume that the objects
must conform to our cognition."
But Kant himself has only continued and deepened
the nominalistic tradition of the Midelle Ages. The
true founder of idealism, of subjectivism, of phenome-
nism ( all this is at bottom the same), is Roscelin; and
nominalism is the father of all modern philosophy.
Nominalism is essentially the doctrine which refuses
all objective reality of genera and species. We may
distinguish extreme nominalism, according to which uni-
versals are only names or words (nomina, voces,Jiatus
THE OPEN COURT.
341
VOcis), and moderate nominalism, which makes of them
pure concepts of the mind (Abailard, William of Occam).
In both cases it is denied that the relations which unite
the individuals of the same kind and the differences
which separate them from those of other kinds, have an
absolute value in so far as they express the nature of
things independent of the mind.
The fundamental principle of Cartesian philosophy
is also nominalistic. The only cognizance which is cer-
tain in itself is the idea of one's own existence. The
universe is not directly known; we know, by which
dodge Descartes succeeds in recovering our knowledge
of it. Consistently the universe remains locked up in
the human mind, and it is an act of inconsistency to
which Descartes resorts.
Logically also the system of Kant leads to the negation
of the noumenon ; and absolute egotism or the solipsism
of Fichte is the natural development, the last word of
Kantism.*
Berkeley and Hume, Stuart Mill and Spencer, all
these — and a legion of others, who by misconceiving
the principal of the relativity of cognizance, conclude
that we do not know and cannot know anything but our
internal representations, the modifications or states of our
consciousness — all these, whether they acknowledge it
or not, are the heirs of nominalism, they continue its
work and tend to solipsism.
There is also another historical tradition of human
thought which it may be advisable to take up. It is
that of Greek philosophy. The physicists and meta-
physicians who preceded Socrates, all admit the exis-
tence of a reality in itself. The principles from which
these philosophers explained the world were : water, air,
fire, atoms, homoeomeries, the infinite, numbers, the
internal being. The human mind comprised such
reality more or less completely and nature obtruded
from without upon thought. It had not yet struck
them that thought itself had created its object and was
only contemplating its own forms, when it believed to
perceive things. The first subjectivists were the
Sophists, to whom individual thought is the measure of
reality and truth (-navrw /ifrpuv av&poxroc). But Socrates
opposed and destroyed for centuries to come the sub-
jectivism of the Sophist. Plato, Aristotle, the Epi-
cureans, the Stoics are realists of different degree and
type. Even Pyrrho, the skeptic, and his more or less
faithful disciples, Arkesilas, Carneades, Aenesidemos
and Sextus do not deny the existence of a thing in itself.
They do not claim that the mind seizes its own
representations in cognizance; they only say that human
opinions concerning the nature of things are too variable
and too contradictory and cannot therefore be accepted as
an adequate expression of truth. With regard to the
* We need not mention that iue would be careful in drawing these conclu-
sions which are imputed to the system of Kant. (Annotation of Mr. L. Carrau.)
Alexandrians, their theory of e.xtasis suffices to clear
them of all suspicion of subjectivism.
The fathers of the church are intemperate realists,
and so were the first schoolmen. Some of them are
realists to the utmost extreme, as Scotus Eriget/a, who
resuscitated Plato. They consider universals as substances
which exist independently of and apart from individuals.
Others are so with more moderation and following
Aristotle take universals as substances, but substances
dependent upon and inseparable from particular things.
Orthodoxy in the service of realism brought on intol-
erance and persecution. The revolution of nominalism
became necessary and beneficent in order to save the
liberty of human thought. But this work of nominal-
ism is now long fulfilled and it is sciei/tijic realism to
which the future belongs.
The scientific realism of Mr. Abbot is the philoso-
phy, or rather the method, which is to replace in future
all modern metaphysics established by Kant and by
nominalism. But what does Mr. Abbot mean by
scientific realism? He says in chapter 1 :
" Modern science consists of a mass of propositions
respecting the facts, laws, order and general constitution
of the universe. It is a product of the aggregate
intellectual activity of the human race, and could no
more have been produced by an individual than could
the language in which its propositions are expressed.
These propositions incorporate the results of universal
human experience and reason, from which all elements
of personal eccentricity, ignorance or error have been
graduall}' eliminated in the course of ages."
The essential condition of certitude for science is,
therefore, " the unanimous consensus of the competent."
That means the acquiescence of all intelligences, duly
prepared, to general propositions which constitute uni-
versal experience.
But propositions express relations, and relations exist
between, ami are inseparable from, terms. Science
claims that the relations which are stated to exist, exist
among objective realities and are real as much as they.
The propositions of science have an objective value. If,
for instance, science declares that the weight of one atom
of hydrogen is about the 0,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,-
109,312th part of a gram, or 109,312 octillionth grams,
it is clearly demonstrated that the results which are
obtained are no mere constructions of inner states, for
no internal modification can represent their marvelous
minuteness of gravity. To our consciousness it is rigor-
ously equal to zero. To science it is a quantity actually
existing in nature. It is just this quantity and not
another; and no analysis or combination of subjective
concepts will explain why the decimal number of grams
in this case is precisely what it is.
We may add that these results which it is absolutely
impossible to foresee — and this is a proof of their
342
THE OPEN COURT.
objectivity — can be ascertained daily and constantly by
processes which force the assent of the most incredulous
minds. Mr. Abbot concludes that science owes its
uninterrupted progress and its more and more undisputed
authority to a method which is exactly opposed to that
of idealistic philosophy; consequently, a divorce has
been effected which is fatal to philosophy as well as to
science — certainly in a less degree to the latter than to
the former — and that this separation should cease for the
better reputation of philosophy, whose discredit might
become irremediable; and for the higher interests of the
human mind which cannot dispense with philosophy.
And this separation will not cease unless philosophers
quit a sterile subjectivism and leave the ego,to enter res-
olutely into the universe declaring its absolute reality,
unless they consider their own thought as a part of this
universe which gives to it its existence, its value and its
object; unless they graft upon science the experimental
objective and a posteriori method, which by conquering
nature daily increases the power of man and produces
an intercourse of intelligences by an adherence to truths
the number of which incessantly increases.
Kant has opposed the phenomenon to the non-phe-
nomenon, and he was right. But this opposition soon
becomes with him that of the phenomenon and nou-
menon, the noumenon being taken as the unknowable.
In other words, the unknowable is the incomprehensi-
ble. Strange perversion of the meaning of terms!
The movfievmi of the Greeks, the true intelligible,
becomes in modern phraseology exactly its contrary.
What cannot be known is only what does not exist at
all. What is intelligible is cognizable, if not actually
known. What is actually known is the phenomenon
indeed; what remains to be cognized is the noumenon.
But at bottom it is one and the same reality, a reality
which exists of itself. The noumenon of to-day will be the
phenomenon of to-morrow. There are not two distinct
spheres like two worlds which exclude each other.
There is only one single world, the intelligibility of
which is the fundamental postulate of science — a postu-
late which may be proved, if it were necessary, by
each new discovery. To an infinite intelligence all
would be phenomenon, to man the non-phenomenon is
only in so far not accessible as he does not yet know
this side of existence, although nothing cuts off human
intelligence forever.
Idealism, subjectivism, phenomenism bear in them-
selves their contradiction. If nothing exists but
what is represented, what is represented exists, but
in proportion as it is represented. In other words,
the subject has only its existence in and by its dif-
ferent successive states. Only the representation, the
act of consciousness is real and it is of absolute
reality. It is at once all subject and all object. It
exists in itself. That means, it is the noumenon; and it
means, also, that all which exists is noumenon ; and
pure phenomenism leads to an exclusive noumenism,
that of phenomenism.
I only sketch the arguments of Mr. Abbot. They
are original, and, I dare say, they are not lacking in
thoroughness. I can only sum up their essential fea-
tures and, perhaps, have deprived them of their force.
But the book is short, and I commend its perusal, to
give to the relationism or the scientific realism of the
author the attention which it deserves.
Scientific realism, if accepted, must lead to a
religion which is the religion of science, the only one
which modern spirit admits.
If the fundamental postulate of the scientific method
is infinite intelligibility of the universe which exists in
itself, one has to ask what is intelligibility.
Nothing is intelligible but relations. Truly our
understanding comprehends nothing but relations, for
all cognizance can be resolved into judgments. And as
we have said, relations are not separable neither in exist-
ence nor in thought from the realities themselves among
which they exist.
" It was the great defect of the old scholastic realism
to treat relations as if they were things, and conceive
them as separate entities; it is the great merit of the new
scientific realism to treat things and relations as two
totally distinct orders of objective reality, indissolubly
united and mutually dependent, yet for all that utterly
unlike in themselves.
" The thing ( r6Si u, hoc aliguid unitm numero, das
Ding, das Etzvas) is a unitary system of closely corre-
lated internal forces, and manifests itself by specific
qualities, actions, or motions; the qualities, actions, or
motions constitute it a phenomenon; the system of rela-
tions constitutes it a noumenon — constitutes, that is, both
the real unity of the thing and its intelligible character.
This immanent relational constitution of the single thing
is, according to the theory of noumenism, the true
'principle of individuation' (firiucifiium individual-
itatis — quodvis individuum est omnimodo dctermina-
tum); perception never exhausts or discovers all the
single relations of determinations which it includes,
although prolonged attention always discovers more and
more of them. It is never known wholly, which,
however, is no reason for denying that it is known in part
by science. Scientific discovery has thus far stopped
with the atom and the person, as the practical limits of
its analysis of the universe into single things (fidvade?,
Einzclwesen, Eiuzeldingc'); the universe itself is the
all-thing (allding) ; between these extremes is a count-
less multitude of intermediate composite things, (mole-
cules, masses, compounds, species, genera, families,
societies, states, etc.) The systems of internal relations
in all these various things vary immensely in complexity
and comprehensiveness — in fact, the complexity and
THE OPEN COURT.
343
comprehensiveness of the system determines the grade
of the thing in the scale of being; but in every case the
immanent relational constitution of the thing constitutes
its real unity, quiddity, noumenal essence, substantial
form, formal cause, or objectively intelligible character."
The universe, therefore, is intelligible, as it is the sys-
tem of systems. But what is intelligence? It is (i) the
sole discoverer of immanent relational constitutions; (2)
the sole creator of immanent relational constitutions.
And intelligence manifests this creative power of rela-
tional constitutions by voluntary activity when it disposes
of means having in view an end. The executing will
is only a servant. It is intelligence which conceives ends
and discovers means for their realization. Now, means
are only a relational system having in view the end, and
the end itself is a thing conceived as possible, i. e., as a
system of immanent relations.
Let me add that intelligence is identical in all its
forms and its degrees. Moreover, all intelligence, from
the instinct of animals up to sovereign thought, has as
its sole function to discover or to create ends, i. e., svs-
tems of immanent relations. Intelligence is essentially
. teleological.
Let us draw the conclusions of Mr. Abbot's premises:
The infinite intelligibility of the universe proves its
infinite intelligence. Indeed, only an infinite intelligence
can create an infinite relational constitution.
" The infinitely intelligible universe is the self-exist-
ent totalitv of all being, since there is no 'other' to
which it could possibly owe its existence. But that
which is self-existent must be self-determined in all its
attributes; and it could not possibly determine itself to
be intelligible unless it were likewise intelligent. To
express this thought in less abstract terms: the universe
must be the absolute author or eternal originator of its
own immanent relational constitution. The intelligibil-
ity or relational system of the universe, considered as an
effect, must originate in the intelligence or creative
understanding of the universe considered as a cause.
This is substantially the meaning of Spinoza's famous
distinction of natura naturans and natura natnrataP
From this infinite intelligibility and this infinite
intelligence of the universe which influence one another,
follows that it is an infinite subject-object or an infinite
intelligence having consciousness by itself.
The immanent relational constitution of the uni-
verse-object being infinitely intelligible must be an
absolutely perfect system of nature. Therefore : It is no
chaos, which would be no system at all. It is no mere
multitude of monads or atoms, for they would form an
unintelligible aggregate of systems— and it is no mere
machine, for a machine is an imperfect system which can-
not either preserve or reproduce itself. It is a cosmic
organism, for such an organism is the only absolutely
perfect system.
The infinitely intelligible and absolutely perfect
organic system of nature proves that the universe-object
is the eternal, organic, and teleological self-evolution of
the universe-subject. The eternal self-realization or
self fulfillment of creative thought in creative being is
the infinite life of the universe per se.
The evolution theory, it is true, is the great scientific
conquest of our century ; but not in the mechanic and
materialistic sense of Spencer and Haeckel. Their own
principles refute them. They speak of a tendency to
preserve the type of ancestors by heredity, of a tendency
to cast out by selection those which are less adapted to
the struggle for existence, as if the word tendency did
not imply an immanent teleology in nature itself and
excludes mere mechanism!
" The infinite organic and organih'c life of the
universe per se proves that it is infinite wisdom and
infinite will, infinite beatitude and infinite love, infinite
rectitude and infinite holiness, infinite wisdom, goodness
and power, infinite spiritual person, the living and life-
giving God from whom all things proceed."
This deduction of Mr. Abbot's is a little too bold!
Pantheism generally did not take the trouble to prove
the existence of an immanent thought in the universe.
The God of Spinoza has an attribute which resembles
intelligence. The difficulty commences when moral
attributes and personality are required. Spinoza is sup-
posed having excluded them from his "substance."
Mr. Abbot wants to preserve them; and I am by no
means sure that he has succeeded. I have no space to
quote here the passage containing his argument, but I
highly appreciate the ingeniousness of his dialectics on
this point. To give him a chance of being appreciated
it would be necessary to reproduce the whole last
chapter of his book. There his views are summarily
indicated, and we hope that the author will give them
in another work the full development they deserve.
Let me only select one more quotation in which
sense and how far Mr. Abbot declares himself a pan-
theist:
" If all forms of monism are necessarily deemed
pantheism, on the ground that pantheism must include
all systems of thought which rest on the principle of
one sole substance, then scientific theism must be con-
ceded to be pantheism; for it certainly holds that the all is
God and God the all; that the dualism which jjosits
spirit and matter as two incomprehensibly related sub-
stances, eternally alien to each other and mutually hos-
tile in their essential nature, is a defective intellectual
synthesis of the facts, and therefore greatlv inferior to
the monism which posists the absolute unity of substance
and absolute unity of relational constitution in one or-
ganic universe per se, and which conceives God, the in-
finite subject, as eternally thinking, objectifving and re-
vealing Himself in nature, the infinite object. * * *
344
THE OPEN COURT.
If, on the other hand, pantheism is the denial of all
real personality, whether finite or infinite, then, most
emphatically, scientific theism is not pantheism, but its
diametrical opposite. Teleology is the very essence of
purely spiritual personality; it presupposes thought,
feeling and will. * * * There is no such thing as
unconscious teleology, if it is not conscious in the finite
organism, as of course it is not in the organic stiucture
as distinguished from the organic consciousness and
action, then it must be conscious in the infinite organism
which creates the finite. Ends and means are incon-
ceivable and impossible, except as ideal or subjective
relational systems which the creative understanding
absolutely produces, and which the will reproduces in
nature as real or objective relational systems; hence the
recognition of teleology in nature is necessarily the
recognition of purely spiritual personality in Goel.
" For every deeply religious philosophy must hold fast,
at the same time, the two great principles of the tran-
scendence anel the immanence of God. If God is not
conceived as transcendent He is confounded with matter,
as in hylozoism, materialism or material pantheism. But
if He is not conceived as immanent He is banished from
His own universe as a Creator ex nihilo and mere infi-
nite mechanic. Scientific theism conceives Him as
immanent in the universe so far as it is known, and
transcendent in the universe so far as it remains unknown
— immanent, that is, in the woilel which lies beyond
human experience. This is the only legitimate or philo-
sophical meaning of the worel transcendent; for God is
still conceiveel as immanent alone, anel in no sense tran-
scendent in the- infinite universe per se. Hence, the
merely subjective distinction of the transcendence and
immanence of God perfectly corresponds with that of
the ' known' and the ' unknown ' as absolutely one in
real being; God is 'known' as the immanent, anel
' unknown ' as the transcendent, but He is absolutely
knovvable as both the immanent anel the transcendent.
It is really denial of Him to confound Him with the
' unknowable- ' or unintelligible — that is, the non-exist-
ent. Scientific theism eloes not insult and outrage the
human mind by calling upon it to worship what it can-
not possibly understand — an unreal quantity, a surd, a
square root of minus one, an ' unknowable reality,'
which is only a synonym for impossible reality or abso-
lute unreality; for that is the quintessence of supersti-
tion. But it gives an idea of God which not only satis-
fies the demands of the human intellect but no less those
of the human heart."
Such language is elevated anel makes us think. Shall
I say that I am not entirely convinced ? The infinite-
personality of the universe gives me the impression of
a contradiction. A person must be- an ego, and an ego
exists only on the condition of a non-ego. A person
is necessarily limited; if he has consciousness, he must
distinguish himself from what he is not. I know that
on this account a personal God would not be all being,
anel it is a pit}' without doubt that there is existence out-
side of Goel; and such non-divine existence must either
have been created by Him or be co-eternal, as in the sys-
tem of Plato or Stuart Mill. But it seems a greater
pity still that God cannot he a person analogous to our-
selves, only more perfect. It is a pity, at least, if we
look at it from the demands of the heart. The hearts
which I know are entirely apathetic to such a divine
nature, to such a cosmic system. It is an excellent God
for intelligence, but no object for love. To love the
universe and the laws of the universe, or the order of
the world, are poetic expressions. Truly one really
loves only that being which can respond to one's tender-
ness, a heart which burns with the same fire. The uni-
verse has for man neither heart nor tenderness; at least
man has never become aware of it. I think Goel must
be at once immanent anel transcenelent, but it is a tran-
scendent God to whom prayer and love is offered; it is
not the law of gravitation or the systems of suns or
atoms which are addressed. And if this part of the
universe which is unknown still be a transcendent God,
I judge from analogy that the unknown universe will
be neither more merciful nor more helpful than the uni-
verse now known. Man implores a God just against
the universe anel against fate, which are often cruel in
their laws. Whether we may be mistaken or not in the
belief that Goel exists I do not examine here, but I
eleclare that man's heart will be entirely changed if the
divine nature of the scientific theism suffice him.
I cannot enter into a discussion of Mr. Abbot's book ;
it would take too much time and space. It may suffice
having called to this truly remarkable book the atten-
tion of such men as still expect to find in the meditation
of these deep problems the ultimate raison d ctre and the
chief dignity of thought.
TH. RIBOT ON DISEASES OF MEMORY.
BY DR. PAUL CARL'S.
Materials for the study of the diseases of memory
are abunelant. The difficulty lies in classifying them —
in giving to each case its proper interpretation and in
learning its true bearing upon the mechanism of mem-
ory. Ribot distinguishes two great classes: (I) general
and (II) partial diseases of memory. General eliseases
are either (l) temporary, (3) periodica), or (3) progres-
sive.
(1.) 'Jemporary amnesia usually makes its appear-
ance- suddenly and ends in the same way. Trousseau
reports the case of a magistrate who, attending a meet-
ing of a learned society in Paris, went out bareheaded,
walked as far as the quay, returned to his place and took
part in the discussions with no knowledge of what he
had done. Very often acts begun in the normal state
THE OPEN COURT.
345
are continued by the patient during the period of autom-
atism, or woids just read are commented upon.
If a period of mental automatism is not accompanied
by consciousness amnesia does not need explanation, as,
nothing having been produced, nothing could be con-
served or reproduced.
A child made to inhale the vapor of ether or ammo-
nia, of which the odor was disagreeable, cried, angrily:
"Go away, go away, go away!" and when the attack
was over knew nothing of what had taken place. If,
in this case, it is reasonable to believe that consciousness
was present, we mav also affirm its existence in many
other instances. The magistrate just mentioned was
able to direct his movements in such a manner as to
evade obstacles, carriages and passers-by, which denotes
a certain degree of consciousness. In cases where con-
sciousness is indicated amnesia can be explained by the
dream-like weakness of the conscious state, which is so
feeble that amnesia ensues. And indeed, the states of
consciousness which constitute the dream are extremely
weak. Dreams of which all remembrance immediately
vanishes are very common. The visions of the night
seem very vivid; a short time elapses and they are
effaced forever. They seem to be strong, not because
they are so in reality, but because no other stronger stute
exists to force them into a secondary position.
We pass now to temporarv amnesia of a destructive
character. Cases of this kind are of greatest interest. A
young woman, married to a man whom she loved passion-
ately, was seized during confinement with prolonged syn-
cope, at the end of which she lost all recollection of events
that had occurred since her marriage, inclusive of that
ceremony. She remembered very clearly the rest of her
life up to that point. * * * At first she pushed her
husband and child from her with evident alarm. She has
never recovered recollection of this period of her life,
nor of any of the impressions received during that time.
Her parents and friends have convinced her that she is
married and has a son. She believes their testimony,
because she would rather think that she lost a year of
her life than that all her associates are imposters. But
conviction and consciousness are not united. She looks
upon husband and child without being able to realize
how she gained the one and gave birth to the other.
The explanation of this case may be found in the impos-
sibility of the reproduction or the entire destruction of
residua. Strange cases of amnesia are such which
require a complete re-education. We quote two inter-
esting cases from Forbes Winslow :
"A clergyman, of rare talent and energy, of sound
education, was thrown from his carriage and received a
violent concussion of the brain. For several days he
remained utterly unconscious and when restored, his
intellect was observed to be in a state similar to that of a
naturally intelligent child. Although in middle life, he
commenced his English and classical studies under tutors
and was progressing satisfactorily, when, after several
months' successful study, his memory gradually returned
and its former wealth and polish of culture."
"A gentleman about thirty years of age, of learning
and acquirements, at the termination of a severe illness
was found to have lost the recollection of everything,
even the names of the most common objects. His health
being restored, he began to re-acquire knowledge like a
child. After learning the names of objects he was
taught to read, and, after this, began to learn Latin. He
made considerable progress, when, one day, in reading
his lesson with his brother, who was his teacher, he sud-
denly stopped and put his hand to his head. Being
asked why he did so, he replied: 'I feel a peculiar sen-
sation in my head; and now it appears to me that I knew
all this before.' From that time he rapidly recovered
his faculties."
( 2. ) The most clearly defined and the most complete
instance of periodic a/u/iesia on record is the case of a
young American woman reported by Macnish in his
Philosophy of Sleep. " Her memory was capacious and
well stored with a copious stock of ideas. Unexpect-
edly and without any forewarning, she fell into a pro-
found sleep, which continued several hours beyond the
ordinary term. On waking she was discovered to have
lost even' trace of acquired knowledge. Her memory
was tabula rasa ; all vestiges, both of words and things,
were obliterated and gone. It was found necessary for
her to learn everything again. She even acquired, by
new efforts, the art of spelling, reading, writing and
calculating, and gradually became acquainted with the
persons and objects around, like a being for the first time
brought into the world. In these exercises she made
considerable proficiency. But, after a few months,
another fit of somnolency invaded her. On rousing
from it, she found herself restored to the state she was
in before the first paroxj'sm ; but was wholly ignorant of
everv event and occurrence that had befallen her after-
ward. The former condition of her existence she now
calls the old state, and the latter the new state; and she
is as unconscious of her double character as two distinct
persons of their respective natures. For example, in
her old state she possesses all the original knowledge, in
her new state only what she acquired since. * * *
In the old state she possesses fine powers of penmanship,
while in the new she writes a poor, awkward hand, hav-
ing had neither time no means to become an expert."
These periodical transitions lasted for four years.
A second, less complete but more common form of
periodic amnesia is that of which Dr. Azam gives an
interesting description, in the case of Felida X., and to
which Dr. Dufay found a parallel in one of his own
patients. A brief summary will suffice for our purpose.
A woman of hysterical temperament was attacked in
346
THE OPEN COURT.
1S56 with a singular malady affecting her in such a
manner that she lived a double life, passing alternately
from one to the other of two states, which Dr. Azam
defines as the first condition and the second condition.
In the normal or first condition, the woman was serious,
grave, reserved and laborious. Suddenly, overcome
with sleep, she would lose consciousness and awake in
the second condition. In this state her character was
changed; she became gay, imaginative, vivacious and
coquettish. She remembered perfectly all that had
taken place in other similar states and during her normal
life. Then, after the lapse of a longer or shorter period,
she was again seized with a trance. On awaking she
was in the first condition. But in this state she had no
recollection of what had occurred in the second condi-
tion; she remembered only anterior normal periods.
With increasing years the normal state (first condition)
lasted for shorter and shorter and less frequent periods
while the transition from one state to the other, which
had formerly occupied something like ten minutes took
place almost instantaneously. For purposes of special
study, the essential facts in this case may be summed up
in a few words. The patient passed alternately through
two states; in one she possessed her memory entire; in
the other she had only a partial memory formed of all
the impressions received in that state. The case reported
by Dr. Dufay is analogous to that just given.*
It is worth noting that in some forms of periodica]
amnesia there is a part of the memory which is never
wiped out, but which remains common to both condi-
tions. On examining the general characteristics of
periodical amnesia we find, in extreme cases an evolution
of two memories. The two memories are independent
of one another ; when one appears, the other disappears,
each is self-supporting-, each utilizes, so to speak, its
own material. As a result of this discerption of mem-
ory, the individual appears — at least toothers — to be
living a double life. The illusion is natural, for the
Ego depends (or appears to depend) upon the possbility
of associating the present states with those that are
reanimated or localized in the past. There are two dis-
tinct centers of association and attraction. Each draws
to itself certain groups, and is without influence upon
others. And this leads us to a great subject, viz.: to the
conditions of personality .f
The Ego is no distinct entity of conscious states.
.Such an hypothesis is useless and contradictory; it is a
conception worthy of a Psycholog in its infancy.
Contemporary science sees in conscious personality a
* For further details, see Azam, Re\ue Scit'ntifique, 1S67, May 20, September
16; is77, November 10; 1S79, March S. And Dufay, ibid., iS76,July 15,
f Mr. Hegeler calls my attention to the fact that these instances of double
consciousness are analogous to cases of hypnotism. A person who was hypno-
tised,when awakened, retains in the normal state no recollection of the state of
hypnosis. But if the patient is hypnotised again, he remembers what had taken
place in a former hypnotic state and eventually will remember it in succeeding
states of hypnosis. In this way two distinct personalities are formed in one
and the same individual. In the study of these facts the key to problem of the
soul must be looked for.
compound resultant of very complex states. The mechan-
ism of consciousness is comparable to that of vision. Here
we have a visual point in which alone perception is clear
and precise; about it is the visual field in which percep-
tion is progressively less clear and precise as we advance
from center to circumference. The Ego, the present of
which is perpetually renewed, is for the most part nour-
ished by the memory. Beneath the unstable compound
phenomenon of consciousness in all its protean phases
of growth, degeneration, and reproduction, there is a
something that remains, and this something is the
obscure consciousness which is the product of all the
vital processes, constituing bodily perception, and which
is expressed in one word, coeuaesthesis (Germans call it
" Gemeingefiihl). The unity of the Ego is not that of
a mathematical point, but that of a very complicated
mechanism; it is a consensus of vital processes, co-or-
dinated by the nervous system and by consciousness the
natural form of which is unity.
(3.) In progressive atnnesia the work of dissolution
is slow and continuous, resulting in a complete destruc-
tion of memory. Physicians distinguish between differ-
ent kinds of dementia according to causes, classing them
as senile, paralytic, etc. These distinctions have no
interest for us. The progress of mental dissolution is
fundamentally the same, whatever be the cause, and this
progress is to us the only fact with which we are con-
cerned. The question now arises, does loss of memory
in this dissolution follow any regular order?
Amnesia is limited at first to recent events, extends
to ideas, then to sentiments and affections, and finally to
actions. A priori it would be natural to believe that
the latest impressions were the most distinct and the
most stable. But if with the beginning of dementia the
nervous cells degenerate, they become a prey to atrophy.
Neither a new modification in the cells nor the forma-
tion of new dynamical associations is possible, or at
least permanent.
The most careful observers have remarked that the
emotional faculties are effaced much more slowly than
the intellectual faculties. At first thought it seems
strange that states so vague as those pertaining to the
feelings should be more stable than ideas and intellectual
states in general. Reflection will show that the feelings
are the most profound, the most common and the most
tenacious of all phases of mental activity. While knowl-
edge is an acquired and a foreign element, feelings are
innate. Feelings form the self; amnesia of the feelings
is the destruction of the self.
The last acquisitions to succumb are the organic
habits, the routine of daily life. This requires only a
minimum of conscious memory, having its seat in the
cerebral ganglia, the medulla and the spinal cord. We
thus see that the progressive destruction of memory
THE OPEN COURT.
347
follows a logical order, a law. It advances progres-
sively from the unstable to the stable.
If memory in the process of decay follows invariably
the path just indicated, it should follow that the same
path in a contrary direction is the process of growth ;
forms which are the last to disappear should he the first
to manifest themselves, since they are the most stable,
and the synthesis progresses from the lower to the
higher.
And so it is, indeed. Taine quotes a very instructive
example in his essay, De U 'intelligence : "There is a
case of a celebrated Russian astronomer who first forgot
events of recent experience, then those of the year, then
those of the latter portion of his life, the breach contin-
ually widening until only remembrance of childhood
remained. The case was thought to be hopeless. But
dissolution suddenly ceased and repair began ; the breach
was gradually bridged over in a contrary direction;
recollections of youth appeared, then those of middle
age, then the experiences of later yeais, and finally the
most recent events. His memory was entirely restored
at the time of his death."
(II.) The facts of partial amnesia, that there should
be loss of memory for music and for nothing else,
appear inexplicable and almost miraculous. But if we
have an accurate idea of what the word really means,
the marvelous element disappears, and these facts, far
from exciting our wonder, are seen to be natural and
logical consequences of a morbid influence. Memory
may be resolved into memories, just as the life of an
organism may be resolved into the lives of the organs,
the tissues, the anatomical elements which compose it
Gall, the first to protest againt the view that memory
has one special and only one seat in our brain, assigned
to each faculty its own special memory, and denied the
existence of memory as an independent function.
The case recorded by Sir H. Holland has been often
cited. " I descended," he says, "two very deep mines in
the Harz Mountains, remaining some hours underground
in each. While in the second mine, and exhausted both
from fatigue and inanition, I felt the utter impossibility
of talking longer with the German inspector who
accompanied me. Every German word and phrase
deserted my recollection ; and it was not until I had
taken food and wine, and been some time at rest, that
I regained them."
A surgeon, who was thrown from his horse and
remained for some time insensible, described the accident
distinctly upon his recovery, and gave minute directions
with regard to his own treatment. But he lost all idea
of having either wife or children, and this condition
lasted for three days. Is this case to be explained by
mental automatism ? The subject, while partly uncon-
scious, retained all his professional knowledge.
Is it now necessary to admit that the cerebral residua
corresponding to an idea, and those corresponding to its
vocal sign, its graphic sign, and to the movements that
express the one or the other, are associated in the cortex?
And what anatomical conclusions are we to draw from
the fact that there may be loss of memory of movements
without that of ideas, of speech without that of writing,
or of writing without that of speech ? We can only sug-
gest these queries, which we are unable to answer. —
There are also cases entirely opposite in character,
where functions that were apparently obliterated, have
been revived, and vague recollections attain extraordi-
nary intensity. Is this exaltation of memory, which phy-
sicians term hvpermnesia, a morbid phenomenon? It is,
at least, an anomaly. General excitation of memory
seems to depend entirely upon physiological causes, and
particularly upon the rapidity of the cerebral circulation.
There are several accounts of drowned persons saved
from imminent death who agree that at the moment of
asphyxia they seemed to see their entire lives unrolled
before them in the minutest incidents. One of them
testifies that every instance of his former life seemed to
glance across his recollection in a retrograde succession,
not in mere outline, but the picture being filled with
every minute and collateral feature, forming a kind of
panoramic picture of his entire existence, each act of it
accompanied by a sense of right and wrong. An analo-
gous case is that of a man of remarkably clear head, who
was crossing a railway in the country when an express
train at full speed closely approached him. He had just
time to throw himself down in the center of the road
between the rails, and as the train passed over him, the
sentiment of impending danger to his very existence
brought vividly into his recollection every incident of
his former life in such an array as that which is sug-
gested by the promised opening of the great book at the
last great day."
Even allowing for exaggerasion, these instances show
a superintensity of action on the part of the memory of
which we can have no idea in its normal state. Certain
religious ecstacies manifested in last moments are often
cases of hypcrmnesia. They are in the view of
psychology only the necessary effects of irremediable
dissolution.
All these cases corroborate the fact that memory
depends upon nutrition. What is quickly learned is
soon forgotten, and the expression "to assimilate knowl-
edge " is not a metaphor. The psychical fact has an
organic cause. For the fixation of recollections time is
necessary, since nutrition does not do its work in a
moment.
Cellular modifications and dynamic associations are
assumed to be the material basis of recollection. There
is no memory, no human brain, it matters not how
crowded it be, that is not able to retain all that comes
34«
THE OPEN COURT.
within its grasp, for, if j^ossible, cellular modifications
are- limited, the possible dynamic associations are innu-
merable.
REMARKS BY MR. E. C. HEGELER ON THE TWO
FOREGOING ARTICLES.
As founder of this journal I have presented in its
first number my views on religious and ethical subjects,
quoting modern psychology as their main support.
Hering's essav on Memory as a General Function of
Organized Matter, has since been presented to the
readers. Further, a compilation from Ribot's Diseases
of Memory (the title to which book the American
translator has supplemented by the words, an Essav in
the Positive Psychology') has been presented in part and
is continued in this number, giving those most instruc-
tive examples, the cases of double consciousness, or the
formation of two personalities not knowing of each
other, in one brain.
I have deemed it of importance that this explanation
of the nature of personality appear side by side with
the review of Francis E. Abbot's Scientific Theism,
hoping that it will have a clarifying effect. I share with
Mr. Abbot the desire of preserving the " God Ideal,"
but object to individualizing God, which is a limitation.
I agree with Mr. Abbot in imagining the great All (em-
bodying what the words God and Universe imply when
united) as possessing intelligence or reason. What reason
and intelligence are, however, modern psychologj' and
the science of language have taken from the domain of
mystery. Intelligence will appear and evolve where-
ever life appears throughout the universe.
Edward C. Hegeler.
"THE WORST ENEMY OF WOMAN IS WOMAN."
BY ELIZABETH CADY STANTON.
In his strictures on my article "Jails and Jubilees,"
Mr. Hegeler makes the assertion that "the worst enemy
of woman is woman."
Such an assertion in so influential a journal as The
Open Court must nut pass unchallenged. There are
many old saws repeated from time to time unquestioned
that pass into accepted proverbs because no one points
out their falsehood and absurdity. The above wholesale
libel on womanhood is one of these, as the most casual
survey of the facts of history will readily prove.
The established customs of all nations; state and
church governments; civil and canon law; the tone of
literature, sacred and secular, alike show that woman's
worst enemy is man.
All social customs are based on the idea of woman's
inferiority and her necessary subjection to man for the
go »1 order of society, but the fact, that in proportion to
her higher education and development she repudiates his
authority, shows that her subordination has not been of
her own choice. Hence to make woman responsible for
any of the evils, moral or material, that have grown out
of her enforced condition of ignorance and folly is to
the last degree unreasonable.
We must not blame Chinese women for cramping
their feet in iron shoes, nor Turkish women for their
folly and imbecility in the slavery of the harem, nor
American women for lapping their ribs, boring holes in
their ears, or cultivating an excresence like a camel's
hump on their spines. Men are responsible for all this.
They do not care what women do to exaggerate their
own helplessness and ignorance. Masculine opposition
has been uniformly called out to keep women as they
are, to suppress their individual life, larger liberty and
higher education. Their protests have been loud and
long against women entering the colleges, the profes-
sions, the world of profitable work, but they have never
made any organized opposition against the customs that
degrade and defraud them. For every step in progress
that woman has made toward the freedom she enjovs
to-day, she is indebted to her own sex.
Because one woman has questioned the goodness and
wisdom of the Queen of England, it will hardly do for
Mr. Hegeler to pass so sweeping a libel on all woman-
kind.
To farther prove that man has always been woman's
worst enemy, look at his constitutions, state and national,
at his civil and criminal codes for one-half the citizens
of the United States — for the mothers who rocked the
cradle of the Republic.
The English system of jurisprudence from which
sprung our American law, from Blackstone down to
Story, is invidious and inimical toward woman. Lord
Brougham has well said, "the English common law for
woman is a disgrace to the civilization and Christianity
of the nineteenth century."
Women have had no voice in the making of these
laws and constitutions, but for half a century at least,
have publicly protested against them, and all the modifi-
cations made in these infamous statutes, have been the
result of the pravers and petitions of women. Although
Congress during one century has passed fifteen amend-
ments to the United States Constitution securing new
liberties to men, we have thus far asked in vain for any
new guarantees to protect the interests of women. Al-
though native born, virtuous, intelligent, law abiding
citizens, we hold the anomalous position of subjects un-
der a foreign yoke. We are taxed without representa-
tion, tried without a jury of our peers, having no voice
in the laws and rulers under which we live. Representa-
tives from England, Ireland, Scotland, German}' and
France make and administer the law for the daughters
of Jefferson, Hancock and Adams, and we have no
redress.
If we turn from the state to the church, another in-
stitution equally dominated by man, we find nothing
THE OREN COURT.
3-19
there to inspire one ray of hope. The status of women
bap'iz d into the church is even more degraded than
born as a citizen into the state, because the whole Chris-
tian system is built on the doctrine of original sin, and
woman its chief actor and author.
The canon laws expressing the thought of the " Holy
Fathers" from St. Augustine down to Cardinal Gibbons,
as well as the Jewish prophets and Christian apostles, as
recorded in the Old and New Testaments, are one and
all so degrading to my sex that the Rev. Charles Kings-
ley has well said, "this will never be a good world for
woman until every remnant of the canon law is swept
from the face of the earth." All these voluminous eccle-
siastical authorities, unknown to women in general, have
emanated from the brain of man; for violations of the
sacred code, the penances and disciplines have been ad-
ministered by man. Women have been exiled, impris-
oned, scourged, tortured, drowned, burnt alive, by the
edicts of man. Through the trying period of celibacy
and witchcraft her sufferings make the blackest page in
human history, and yet the doctrine of her subjection
through omnipotent sin, the source and center of all
woman's wrongs and miseries is echoed by "holy men"
in their pulpits at this hour, and worse than all, claimed
to be by divine authority. Verily in the church as well
as in the state, woman's worst enemy has been man.
Man held the key to the literature of the world for
centuries, and there we find philosopher, scientist, novelist
arid poet, secular and sacred alike, down to our own day,
uniting in one grand chorus on the frailty and wicked-
ness of woman. In the beautiful garden of Eden, the
ideal Eve in her primeval purity and dignity, when ad-
dressing Adam is made to say, "God thv law, thou
mine." No one but a blind man could conceive of such
a base surrender of individual sovereignty by a being
fresh from the hands of her Maker. And what a reflec-
tion on the Maker, is a character devoid of all moral
responsibility.
"God thy law, thou mine." And this has been
quoted by men in all times as one of the most beautiful
sentiments that ever fell from the lips of woman. But
while Milton sums up the highest virtues of the sex in
one line, Pope takes two. He says:
Some men to business, some to pleasure take,
While every woman is at heart a rake.
Similar sentiments characterize all masculine authors,
Swift, Fielding, Aristotle, Rousseau, Montaigne, Ches-
terfield and Lord Bacon, each in turn making woman the
target of their wit, vulgarity and satire. Our later
writers sugar coat their arrows, but the same poison
lurks underneath. Thackeray, Dickens, James and
Howells have all alike painted for the world's amuse-
ment exaggerated types of weak and vicious women,
while a tender truthfulness regarding their own sex,
generally pervades the writings of women.
What novelist ever drew a grander heroine than
Charlotte Bronte's Jane Eyre? What poet ever painted
so pure a character as Elizabeth Barrett Browning's
Aurora Leigh ?
In the department of science these masculine enemies
have at last attacked the size and s distance of woman's
brains. They have actually explored the cranial arch of
the female head to show that cur brains weigh less and
are of an inferior quality to their own. If a woman,
who knows that half their facts published to the world
are pure fabrications, makes any defence, her communi-
cation is curtailed and put in fine print at the end of the
periodical,* while those who libel the feminine brain
are spread out in coarse print over many pages.
1 think I have given facts enough to dispro\e Mr.
Hegeler's assertion. As to his personal criticism I have
only to say that in my arraignment of the Queen of
England, as the representative of a great nation, I did
not over-estimate the influence she might have exerted
in half a century to improve the condition of her subjects.
Had she given as much thought to lightening the taxes on
her people, as to increasing her private fortune; had her
economies been in personal and family deprivations so
that she could herself have made the necessary marriage
settlements on her children, and built the desired monu-
ments to her husband, such economies would have in-
deed been praiseworthy . But on the contrary she has
kept her private fortune, steadily accumulating, intact,
while enjoying unbounded luxuries for herself and chil-
dren by enormous taxes on her subjects. Such economy
rightly named is avarice, and there is no merit in it.
Mr. Hegeler says he never read a harsher criticism
of Victoria than my article in The Open Court. If
mine has been the one discordant note in the grand ju-
bilee chorus to the Queen, it is because behind all the
busy preparations for the most brilliant pageant the
world has ever witnessed, of gilded rovalty and nobility,
my eyes beheld the dark shadows on the back-ground
of homeless, starving men, women and children, into
whose desolate lives would never come one touch oi
light or love. There is something to me unspeakably
sad in the eager gazing multitudes that crowd the streets
on these grand gala days. There is ever a sphinx-like
questioning look in their upturned faces, that seems to
say, "Ah! must the many ever suffer that the few may
shine?" As the sun went down cm that 21st of June,
what a contrast in the close of the day's festivities be-
tween the children of luxury and want.
Some brilliant in jewels, velvet and lace, are borne
in gilded equipages to their palace homes, gay with
music, flowers and innumerable lights"; there to feast on
rich viands from every quarter of the globe ; to pose in
the stately quadrille or whirl in the giddy waltz, and
rest at last on soft couches, curtained in rich India silks,
* See Popular Science Monthly for Jane.
35°
THE OPEN COURT.
to dream of life as one long tournament. Others turn
from the gorgeous pageant weary and worn, hungry
and hopeless, to thread the dark alleys to their cheerless
homes in some ding}' court, to gnaw a dry crust, rest on
a bundle of straw and dream of the long road they
have traveled and the dreary vista of life that opens be-
fore them. Who that can share in imagination one
hour the miseries of England's impoverished people, can
rejoice in a reign of fifty years that has cost the nation
22,000,000 of pounds sterling in extra allowances to the
Queen and her children, in addition to the legitimate
cost of the royal household and the hereditary property
rights of the throne.
CAN RELIGION HAVE A SCIENTIFIC BASIS?
BY LEWIS G. JANES.
The leading object of The Open Court, it is stated,
is " to establish religion on a scientific basis;" and " the
scientific study of religion," is declared to be one of the
dominant purposes of the Free Religious Association.
A valued friend, however, who shall here be nameless,
but who is an officer of the Free Religious Association,
and in hearty sympathy with the general tenor and
character of The Open Court, has more than once
affirmed in public that there can be no such thing as the
discovery of a scientific basis for religion. Religion, he
asserts, is an ultimate fact in human nature. It existed
before the first glimmerings of science were perceived
by the human mind. Its object and mission then were
essentially what they still remain, in spite of the mani-
fold changes which time has wrought in its form and
expression. Then, as now, it gave utterance to man's
sense of dependence upon a power external to himself.
Then, as now, it framed upon human lips the symbolic
words for those emotions of awe and reverence with
which man regards the "Power, not himself," in whose
presence he dwells eternally. In the lowest fetichism as
in the highest theism the characteristic features of what
we term religion, are manifest.
The attempt to establish religion on a scientific basis,
is therefore, my friend declares, illogical and certain in
the nature of things to be defeated. If it were possible,
it would break the continuity of that line of develop-
ment by which the crude emotional expression of primi-
tive man has become displaced by the loftiest aspirations
of theistic worship. It would establish a broad line of
demarcation between religions true and religions false,
whereas all religions have hail an essential truth in their
foundation and raison d'etre, and the falsehood and error
which have mingled with their various historical mani-
festations, have simply given voice and expression to
that immaturity of thought and feeling, that limitation
of intellectual and social environment, which were pecu-
liar to the particular time and place in which each form
of religion arose and commanded allegiance. It would
repeat the error of Christianity in separating itself thus
radically in thought from its historical antecedents.
Such in substance is my friend's criticism upon the
attempt to establish religion on a scientific basis. Are
his objections to this effort logical and rational? Are
they founded upon a true conception of what constitutes
a " scientific basis " for religion ? To me it does not so ap-
pear. Religion, he asserts, is an ultimate fact of human
nature. To this I heartily assent. Being a fact of na-
ture— of human nature — therefore, it seems to me, it is
susceptible of that careful study, that thoughtful analy-
sis and orderly classification, which, when successfully
applied to other natural facts and phenomena, have es-
tablished them on scientific foundations. Already we
have the vigorous and growing science of comparative
religion, a thorough acquaintance with which constitutes,
doubtless, one of the essential conditions for the estab-
lishment of religion on a scientific basis. Already we
have the germs at least of a rational philosophy and
psychology which will enable us to assign religion to its
proper place, and give due weight to its claims and au-
thority in the development of a perfect and symmetrical
human nature. Scholars and writers like Kuenen, Tiele
and Max Miiller in the department of comparative re-
ligion, like Spencer, Fiske and Thompson in the de-
partment of philosophy and psychology — what are they
but builders of this new temple of a religion based upon
science, dedicated to reason and the fair uses of hu-
manity's new day, which is just beginning to dawn upon
the earth ?
That religion in its earlier manifestations antedated
the beginnings of science, constitutes, therefore, no valid
reason why it may not be finally established upon a
scientific basis. On the contrary it affords the first and
essential condition for such an establishment. The fact
must first be given before it can be assigned its due
place in that orderly arrangement and classification
which constitutes its scientific relationship to other facts.
But something more than this susceptibility to systematic
stud)' and orderly arrangement is intended, no doubt, in
the conception of the establishment of religion on a
scientific basis. Heretofore religion has claimed the
right to maintain its theories of the universe and of
man's relation thereto, to enforce its mandates upon so-
ciety, to declare ethical sanctions and to regulate the
lives of individuals and the destinies of nations, inde-
pendent of the dictates of reason and of the progress of
scientific discovery. It has said, "Thus shalt thou be-
lieve concerning the creation of the world, concerning
rituals and creeds, concerning the right and authority of
church and state over the individual, for I am God's
vice-gercnt, endowed with supernatural authority to
announce the infallible truth." When science declared
the earth to be globular in form, religion said, "Not so;
does not the Scripture speak of the 'four corners'
THE OPEN COURT.
351
of the earth, and can that which is round have cor-
ners? Believe this heresy of science at your peril!"
When science affirmed that the earth revolved around
the sun, religion maintained the geo-centric theory,
based upon an alleged infallible revelation of its truth.
When science and reason declared that men had rights
as opposed to oppressive rulers, religion asserted the
divine right of kings. When reason affirmed the authority
of moral science in questions of human duty, religion
interposed its " Thus saith the Lord " as final and
irrevocable upon all problems of practical ethics.
The establishment of religion on a scientific basis
involves the relegation of all these and of all other simi-
lar questions, to science and reason for their solution. It
necessitates the acceptance of reason as the final arbiter
in all these problems. It disclaims the unfounded
assumption of authority, based upon alleged supernatural
revelations of truth. At the same time, religion estab-
lished on a scientific basis will be equally removed from
that crude and dogmatic form of liberalism which, while
it affirms its allegiance to free thought, places all the
emphasis upon the freedom, and little or none upon the
thinking. Its credo must be the intelligent affirmation
of principles which have been thoroughly thought out,
viewed upon every side, and found to conform to and
harmonize with all discovered and demonstrated truth.
It must submit even such rational affirmations to the
deepening thoughts and widening intelligence of each
successive age and generation, neither rejecting the old
simply because it is old, nor approving the new for its
novelty, but modifying or adhering to the form of its
doctrine with respect solely to the greater or less of truth
and accuracy in its statement. Relinquishing no jot or
tittle of its character as religion, it will, nevertheless,
become more and more completely rational, and thus
appeal to the convictions and command the allegiance of
all thoughtful and sincere men and women. Recog-
nizing the good that is in all the historical forms of
religion, it will cultivate a generous charity toward all.
It will condition its fellowship on- character, not on creed ;
it will answer dogmatism with courteous appeals to
reason and to conscience, and its conquests will be those
of love and not of physical force. Where it cannot confi-
dently affirm the great hopes of the older faiths, it surely
wiil not dogmatically deny them, for all dogmatism is
foreign to the scientific spirit. Denving only what is
manifestly irrational and false, it will greatly believe
those things which are of good report and which har-
monize with all that we truly know of this wonderful
universe in which we live, and of our own more won-
derful natures.
" We are in transition," said Emerson, " from the
worship of the fathers who enshrined the law in a pri-
vate and. personal history, to a worship which recognizes
the true eternity of the law, its presence in you and me,
its equal energy in what is called brute nature and in
what is called sacred. The next age will behold God in
ethical laws, as mankind begins to see them in this age,
self-equal, self-executing, instantaneous and self-affirmed ;
needing no voucher, no prophet, no miracle. * * *
There will be a church founded on moral science; at
first cold and naked, a babe in the manger again; the
algebra and mathematics of ethical law — the church of
men to come, without shawm or psaltery, or sackbut;
but it shall have heaven and earth for its beams and
rafters, science for symbol and illustration. It will fast
enough gather beauty, music, picture, poetry. The
nameless thought, the nameless power, the super-per-
sonal heart, it shall repose upon." Such was our
prophet's vision of the church, in that day when religion
shall be established on a scientific basis. In a like noble
faith, fronting a vision so grand and beautiful, shall we
not all press forward in the line indicated by The Open
Court, and strive for its speedy realization ?
TEMPLES AND TEMPLE-CITIES.
BY B. W. BALL.
We are told that the French government has at last
succeeded in obtaining leave from the Greek govern-
ment to search at Delphi for remains of the temple
which stood there. "It is supposed," says the London
Daily JVews, "that there are priceless treasures-
buried in the ground. There was no sanctuary to
which so many valuable presents were made as to the
Delphic one." This is true enough, but in the fourth
century, b. c, the Phocians plundered the Delphic
temple of its most valuable and venerable ex votos, such
as the golden donatives of the Lydian King Krcesus,
which were melted down and turned into money. For
a long course of centuries, it is said, the Delphic soil has
not been disturbed. Delphi was for ages the Holy See
or chief temple-city of Greek paganism. Its priesthood,
through the oracle which uttered its responses there,
governed the primitive world or guided the policy of
all its leading States. The Delphic temple stood high
up above the level of the sea in a Parnassian glen,
"among savage gorges and cold springs," overlook-
ing what is now the Gulf of Lepanto. Its site was-
most picturesque and commanding. Secluded from the
world in a mountain solitude and yet accessible, both by
sea and land, as the immense throngs of pilgrims, who
frequented the temple in the palmy days of its priest-
hood, indicated. That priesthood, according to Bishop
Thirwall, one of the ablest historians of primitive Greece,
did not abuse or misuse, upon the whole, the vast power
which it wielded for so many centuries. The best
account of the oracle religion, which had its seat at
Delphi, may be found in the history of Greece, by Ernst
Curtius. He exhausts the subject, and the chapters-
which he devotes to it are most interesting contributions
35
THE OPEN COURT
to the religious history of mankind, and are worthy to
he bound in the same volume with Gibbons' celebrated
fifteenth and sixteenth chapters, which relate the rise
and early progress of Christianity. The Delphic orac-
ular religion, as the religion of the most refined,
intellectual and rational people of antiquity was, of
course, not a mere gross superstition. The god
Apollo was an ideal Greek, or Hellene, the presiding
genius of art, lyric poetry, heroic games, and light and
right. In fact he might have been called the god of
"sweetness and light," the jaatron deity of old Hellenic
culture and civilization, under whose prophetic direction
that civilization was diffused all round the shores of the
Midland .Sea. He was the god, also, of the art of heal-
ing as well as of prophesy, the assuager of pain and the
soother of guilty consciences. Mr. Gladstone, it seems,
has a special reverence for this old Greek divinity. In
fact he regards Apollo as the Greek equivalent of the
Hebrew Messiah and Deliverer or Savior, while he
deems the motherless goddess, Athene, the tutelary
genius of Athens, as the pagan equivalent of the logos,
or word. However this may be, it may be truthfully
affirmed that the oracle religion of Apollo is entitled to
rank among the purest and most civilizing of the fore-
most religions of the world. It must have been such to
have been the chief religion of ancient Hellas, and to
have exercised the control, which it did, over all the
outlying nations of the ancient world. It was in the
days of its supremacy a cosmopolitan or truly catholic
religion, in comparison with which the Judaism of the
period was the religion of an obscure semi-barbaric race
of shepherds, whose deity matched with Apollo was a
merely tribal god with an altogether limited and local
jurisdiction. In the days of Byron the Delphic oracular
cave was used as a shelter for cows. To such base
uses had it been degraded by the lapse of centuries.
Yet the Delphic steep, with its great oracular shrine,
was the center of the moral development of the most
advanced and civilized moiety of primitive humanity.
Its rocky soil was trodden by the feet of the most
famous men of antiquity. Its Lesche, or Conversations-
haus, was brilliant with cartoons from the brush of
Polygnotus. The dramatic poet, Euripides, in his
beautiful tragedy of /,.//, and Plutarch, in one or
two of his miscellanies, gives us a vivid glimpse of the
daily life of the great Grecian temple-city, which was
a sort of watering place for the old pagan world. On
its steep the Amphictyonic Council held one of its
annual sessions. This was what would be called in
Christian parlance a Panhellenic ecclesiastical gather-
ing, which regulated the Religious concerns of Hellas,
and, in particular, saw that the Delphic oracle suffered
no detriment or desecration. Byron was a visitor to
the Delphic glen during his tour through Greece. He
says in his Ch hie Harold, that though Apollo no
longer haunted the oracular grot,
Some gentle spirit still pervades the spot,
Sighs in the gale, keeps silence in the cave
And glides with glassv foot o'er yon melodious wave.
Delphi would be just the spot, in which an enthusi-
astic Hellenist might read to most advantage the history
of primitive Greece, with the Gulf of Lepanto spark-
ling far below and the peaks of Parnassus above him
Soaring snow-clad through its native skv
In the wild pomp of mountain majesty.
Read in such a storied and sublime locality the his-
tory of Greece would have a new significance. Another
English nobleman who visited Delphi, viz: the late
Lord Houghton, better known as the poet Milnes, also
wrote some fine verses inspired by the genius loci, he
says or sings :
Beneath the vintage moon's uncertain light,
And some faint stars that pierced the film of cloud
Stood those Parnassian peaks before my sight,
Whose fame throughout the ancient world was loud.
Still could I dimly trace the terraced lines
Diverging from the cliffs on either side;
A theatre whose steps were filled with shrines
And rich devices of Hellenic pride.
*****
Still rise the rocks and still the fountain flows.
*****
Desolate Delphi! pure Castalian spring!
Hear me avow that I am not as they,
Who deem that all about you ministering
Were base imposters, and mankind their prey ;
That the high names they seemed to love and laud
Were but the tools their paltry trade to ply;
This pomp of faith a mere gigantic raud,
The apparatus of a mighty lie!
Le' those that will, believe it; I, for one,
Cannot thus read the history of my kind;
Remembering all this little Greece has done
To raise the universal human mind.
*****
I know that hierarchs of that wondrous race,
By their own faith alone, could keep alive
Mysterious rites and sanctity of place, —
Believing in whate'er they might contrive.
It may be that these influences combined
With such rare nature as the priestess bore,
Brought to the surface of her stormy mind
Distracted fragments of prophetic lore.
In modern spiritualistic parlance the Delphic priestess
was a clairvoyant, medium, or mind- reader. The oracle
was shrewd and its priesthood knew all about the States
and cities of the world of its day and all about every
prominent person and family in it. They could speak
all the languages of their time.
Once temples and temple-cities were the centers not
only of moral but of political influence. The Moham-
medan world has for its metropolis such a city, viz.,
Mecca. Rome, with its St. Peter's Church, is in like
THE OPEN COURT.
353
■manner the ecclesiastical metropolis of the two hundred
millions, be the same more or less, -who believe in Roman-
ism. But the scientific, enlightened, rational civilization
of to-day, and the foremost modern communities, do not
acknowledge allegiance to high priests or recognize tem-
ples or temple-cities as centers of power and influence
where supernatural aid and counsel can be obtained.
The great shrines and temple-cities of all the creeds and
religions and of every age, clime and race, were and are
all external manifestations and outgrowths of the same
superstitious mood of mind and the same dense igno-
rance of nature and natural law. Memphis, Sai's, Jeru-
salem, Delphi, Rome, Mecca and Benares were and are
all on the same moral plane, all claiming to be centers
and radiating points of supernatural power ami influ-
ence. There was a time when this preposterous claim
•was universally acknowledged. But that time has gone
bv so far as all really modern men and communities are
•concerned. There are still shrines and so-called shrine-
cures, and pilgrims and pilgrimages to shrines and so-
called holy cities; but the people who indulge in such
eccentricities, and who believe in such exploded super-
naturalisms, though living in and breathing the air of
the world of to-day, belong really to the past of several
centuries back. They are absurd survivals of gross
ignorance, credulity and superstition.
From an aesthetic point of view and as relics of a
nearly extinct mood of the human mind the Parthenon
of Athens, the Pantheon of Rome, and the Pyramids of
Egypt, and the ruins of the old Samothracian temples,
and St. Peter's dome, and the great old mediaeval cathe-
drals and minsters of Europe are noteworthy and
interesting. We may even say with Emerson, that
These temples grew as grows the gras*,
and that
Love and terror laid the tiles.
But we cannot forget the bestial condition of the
people who toiled at the bidding of piiests and kings,
almost guerdonless, to rear these monstrous and useless
architectural enormities to swell the arrogance of abso-
lute hierarchs and monarchs. A pine-board New Eng-
land meeting-house really indicates a higher civilization
than do or did such gorgeous temples as I have enu-
merated.
CHOPPING SAND.
BY WHEELBARROW.
I believe there is somewhere in the laws of me-
chanics a principle known as " waste of power." At
all events, I have heard the phrase used by workingmen,
and although I do not understand its technical or scien-
tific meaning, I suppose it refers to some leak or other
defect in the machine or implement, in consequence of
which its mechanical efforts are weakened, and some of
its labor lost. I fear that many of the efforts of
workingmen to improve their condition are in the
wrong direction, and therefore a "waste of power."
Much effort is being used to relieve the mechanic
trades from the competition of convict labor. I think
this effort is a " waste of power." Lately I pointed out
the unfairness of the demand that convicts be not per-
mitted to work at the mechanic trades, but only "on
the roads." As a worker "on the roads," I claimed
protection also from convict competition, ft is gratify-
ing to notice that my claim has been conceded by the
trades as reasonable and just, for in the platform adopted
by the Anti-Monopoly Convention in New York, the
demand that convicts be compelled to " work upon the
roads" has been abandoned, and it is only now required
that they be employed at such labor as will be least in
competition with workingmen outside.
It is plain as figures that if they are employed at any
useful or productive labor at all, the)' must compete
with somebody, and in that case the spirit of the resolu-
tion requires that they be employed at the most expen-
sive occupations; at those trades which pay the highest
wages, because they can best afford to stand the compe-
tition. Of course this doctrine will not be admitted,
and having made the circuit of every useful trade and
calling in the land, we bring up at last against the
frank position we should have maintained in the begin-
ning, namely, that convicts must be compelled to work
at something that produces nothing, and I suggest that
they be employed at chopping sand.
I have no patent on this plan; it is not original with
me. I have seen it actually tried, and I know its value.
Once I was employed with some other men in building
a house. I was bricklayer's clerk. My duty was to carry
up the bricks in a hod, while the bricklayer fixed them
with his trowel, square and true. This was before the
hod carrying business was prostrated by the competition
of the pulley and the rope, and when I used to find it a
healthful rest and recreation from the monotony and
weary iteration of the shovel and the pick. One day
the boss brought a young fellow with him to work
upon the job. He had taken him as an apprentice to
the bricklayer's trade; he gave some instructions about
setting the youth to work, and then went away. The
new comer was not well received, for it was clear as
print that unless he should tumble off a scaffold and
break his neck, he would grow into a "competitor" at
the bricklaying business with the very men then work-
ing on the job. "What shall we set him at for a
beginning?" said one of the men to the foreman. "Set
him to chopping sand," he .-nswered, and that was done.
It was explained to the new comer that the sand
they were using was rather coarse, and that some of
a finer quality was required. A hatchet was given
him, a bushel or two of sand was placed in front of
him, and he was told to chop it up fine. He worked
354
THE OPEN COURT.
faithfully and well, but at last he discovered that all
his labor was a " waste of power," that although he
might chop forever, the sand would remain the same.
Here then is the solution of the convict labor problem,
set the convicts to chopping sand; this will give them
work enough, and the results will be the desired noth-
ing. How much of the workingmen's efforts to improve
their social condition is based on false reasoning; how
much of it is a useless "waste of power," a weary
chopping of sand !
Again, if the hard labor of convicts is intended
merely as a punishment, nothing can be more exqisitely
refined and cruel than the labor of chopping sand. To
work and produce nothing is torture. The divine
quality of labor is proved by the pleasure its product
brings. Whether the profit of it comes to the worker
or not, it is a satisfaction to know that by his work
something exists that did not exist before, or exists in
better shape. In my childhood I knew an old man for
wl.om my father use to work. His name was Andrew
Mann. Poverty and hardship were his lot in early
life, but in his old age he had become very rich, partly
through some lucky speculations, and partly through
the ''unearned increment" of some town property
which he had bought in an early day. Riches bring to
a man the luxury of eccentricity, and there are some
men who from lack of early education, or some other
aptitudes, enjoy no other luxury in old age. Andrew
Mann was one of these.
One day a poor man came to him for charity.
"Why do you not go to work?" he said; the man
answered that he could not get employment. "I want
a man to turn a grindstone," said old Andrew; "you
can have the job if you want it, and I'll give you a
dollar a day." The poor man gladlv accepted the
offer and went to work. He turned the grindstone
merrily under the old man's directions, but nobody
came to grind anything. This, of course, was none of
his business, and he kept on turning. At last he
became very tired, and said, "Mr. Mann, isn't somebodv
coming to grind something?" " No," said his employer;
"but go ahead with your work." Like the never-ending
drip of water on the head, this profitless toil at last be-
came intolerable, and the poor man fairly begged his tor-
mentor to send a man to grind an axe, or a chisel, or a
hatchet, or anything at all that would show some ben-
efit from his toil. But the old man was inexorable, and
told him to grind on. At last the torture became insup-
portable, and the man threw up the job. "I don't
object to turning a grindstone," he said, "if I could see
anything to grind, but to grind away at nothing will
drive me mad." If punishment alone is the object of
convict labor, and if it is good social economics that
convicts must not earn anything, then let them turn
barren grindstones or chop sand.
NATURE'S LESSON.
BY W. F. BARNARD.
What time we murmur, saying "wear}' life!"
And deem our task-work overburdensome,
How all the gladder voices of the world
Sing through our sighing with announcement sweet
Of labor done with willingness and joy.
The flowers give their perfume to the wind,
Growing for beauty's sake the whole year through.
The trees made vocal with the voice of birds,
Put forth the bud to keep themselves in leaf;
And every living thing lives out its life,
Intent to reach some end whate'er befall.
The rivers flow unwearied evermore,
Through all their curves and shallows, and through all
Their rapids that disturb them, singing still;
The loudest in the rapids, bearing on
With only thought to find the sea at last
That answers to their singing with its deep
And everlasting solemn organ-tones,
Announcing all the labor of its tides.
The very hills keep silent watch and ward
Above the world, their sleepless summits raised
To mark the passage of the sun and moon
And everlasting journeys of the stars;
That fail not, coming ever with the night,
Brightest in darkness.
All obey the law ;
Which bids them live and work. That highest law,
To which our lives shall set themselves at last
More fully and completely, seeking naught
But strength to keep the path that points alway
To something nobler than they yet have known;
The strength to be as steadfast as the stars,
And faith to keep them faithful to the end.
This is the way one of our Chicago dailies refers to
the Concord philosophers L
The Concord School of Philosophy opened with the ther-
mometer in the 90's, and at once fell to a discussion of Aristotle's
doctrine of reason. If people so defiant of hot weather as these
should be sunstruck, it would serve them right. Who but people
that have lost their reason would discuss abstruse theories of rea-
son with the thermometer in the 90's?
It remains completely unknown to us what objects may be in
themselves and apart from the receptivity of our senses. We
know nothing but our manner of perceiving them, that manner
being peculiar to us, and not necessarily shared in by every being,
though, no doubt, by every human being. This is what alone
concerns us. — Kant (Mux MUller's Trans.), Vol. II., f. jy.
At the bottom of all the anarchism in this country is laziness
The Russian anarchist has some reason for seeking the life of
his despotic ruler; but here, where no amount of assassination
will better his condition, the anarchist has no status. As a mat-
ter of fact, his anarchy is a business — out of the laboring man's
pocket. — Puck.
THE OPEN COURT.
355
The Open Court
^ Fortnightly Journal. '
Published every other Thursday at 169 to 175 La Salle Street iNixor.
Buildingi, corner Monroe Street, by
THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY
B. F. UNDERWOOD, SARA A. UNDERWOOD,
Editor and Manager. Associate Editor.
The leading object of The Open* Court is to continue
the work of The Index, that is, to establish religion on the
basis of Science and in connection therewith it will present the
Monistic philosophy- The founder of this journal believes this
will furnish to others what it has to him, a religion which
embraces all that is true and good in the religion that was taught
in childhood to them and him.
Editorially, Monism and Agnosticism, so variously denned,
■will be treated not as antagonistic systems, but as positive and
negative aspects of the one and only rational scientific philosophy,
■which, the editors hold, includes elements of truth common to
all religions, without implying either the validity of theological
assumption, or any limitations of possible knowledge, except such
as the conditions of human thought impose.
The Open Court, while advocating morals and rational
religious thought on the firm basis of Science, will aim to substi-
tute for unquestioning credulity intelligent inquiry, for blind faith
rational religious views, for unreasoning bigotry a liberal spirit,
tor sectarianism a broad and generous humanitarianism. With
this end in view, this journal will submit all opinion to the crucial
test of reason, encouraging the independent discussion by able
thinkers of the great moral, religious, social and philosophical
problems which are engaging the attention of thoughtful minds
and upon the solution of which depend largely the highest inter-
ests of mankind.
While Contributors are expected to express freely their own
views, the Editors are responsible only for editorial matter.
Terms of subscription three dollars per year in advance,
postpaid to any part of the United States, and three dollars and
fifty cents to foreign countries comprised in the postal union.
All communications intended for and all business letters
relating to The Open Court should be addressed to B. F.
Underwood, P. O. Drawer F, Chicago, Illinois, to whom should
be made payable checks, postal orders and express orders.
' THURSDAY, AUGUST 4, 18S7.
THE CONCORD SCHOOL OF PHILOSOPHY.
It is now eight years since these courses of summer
lectures were started by Mr. A. Branson Alcott and
Mr. F. B. Sanborn. The father of the Little Women
•was then earnestly exhorting young people to study the
Westminster Catechism, which teaches that mankind are
under the wrath of God, and insists on the duty of "op-
posing all false worship" and the sin of "tolerating a
false religion." He and his friend, Dr. Jones, of Jack-
sonville, this State, continued during several years to
preach a reactionary transcendentalism, no longer heard
at Concord, in language still so often quoted in the news-
papers, that the present lecturers are supposed to be
more unintelligible than is actually the case. The pre-
siding intellect from the first has been that of Dr. Wm.
T. Harris, a man of singularly beautiful character, great
acuteness in metaphysics and strong moral earnestness.
He is one of those thinkers who unwittingly puts his own
ideas into the works which he interprets. He is some-
times very abstruse, and his most impressive utterances
are so much like those of an orthodox clergyman
of the new school, that his lectures, with those of the
two mystics just mentioned, gave the early sessions a
rather conservative tone. The original orthodoxy of the
school has been much mitigated of late by the part taken
by Messrs. Fiske, Davidson and others. Dr. Edmund
Montgomery has sent in three lectures which have at-
tracted much notice. The last, that on Aristotle's
Theory of Causation in Its Relation to Modern
Thought, was read on Thursday morning, July 14th,
and judging from reports given, is remarkable for the
great vigor with which the reality of the external world
is asserted, and not as a mere form of thought, but as the
result of definite sources of power which are no part of
the human mind, and which are known to us through
our senses. Professor Davidson pronounced the paper
one of the best he had ever heard, but thought that its
author had in some cases misunderstood Aristotle, which
is what every commentator on him, so far as we know,
says of every other. His main objection to the essay
was that it did not explain the fondness of men for seek-
ing after ultimate causes, which taste, however, has been
sufficiently accounted for perhaps by Conite, as a char-
acteristic of the pre-scientific stage of thought. Dr.
Harris took exceptions to what was said about Aristotle
by both Davidson and Montgomery, and asserted against
the latter, the subjectivity of things in themselves.
The disappointment at the absence of Dr. Mont-
gomery was great. A Concord correspondent wrote to
the Boston Post:
If the doctor doesn't show himself to the world at the next
session of the school, the Concord faculty and 6tudents will un-
questionably— to use words in his lecture to-day — emphatically
deny that he is a real man, subsisting as a substantial entity out-
side of themselves.
It is scarcely necessary to say that Aristotle's views
of metaphysics were discussed thoroughly and con-
stantly. A just, though rather summary, survey was
given of his contributions to ethics, sociology and poli-
tics, the lecture of Professor Ferri, of Rome, on the last
subject, having found a translator in Mrs. Helen Camp-
bell. The best work of the great peripatetic, that of
laying the foundations of natural science, was treated of
in only a single lecture, nominally on Aristotle's Physi-
ological Doctriftes. His real services to that science
were almost entirely ignored ; and extravagant praises
were lavished on his habit of beginning the study of
natural phenomena, by trying to reason out what they
ought to be according to the supposed design of nature,
before looking to see what they reallv were. Thus
special investigation was disparaged in favor of speculat-
ing on what we imagine to have been the divine inten-
tions. This view was accepted by the faculty, but
nothing, so far as we can learn, was said of Aristotle's
real discoveries in zoology, or of the attention he gave
to meteorology and astronomy, although Dr. Harris
356
THE OPKN COURT.
made the surprising statement that there does not exist
a sino-le science which was not named and defined by
Aristotle, and reference was made to praise given by
Cuvier and Agassiz to their great forerunner.
The most interesting of Aristotle's theories, that
about the drama, was made the subject of nine lectures,
the first of which was delivered on Wednesday evening,
Tul\ 13th, by Mr. Davidson, who showed what full and
rich use the Greek drama made of all the arts, especially
muMC, to which the proper place cannot easily be
given by us moderns, who have ceased to employ the
choruc.
Shakespeare and his contemporaries were treated of
in six lectures. Mr. Edwin D. Mead showed how much
mistaken Mr. Snider, a lecturer in previous years, had
been in representing Julius Caesar as a champion of the
world-spirit against the state. The usurper was led by
personal ambition. Among other dramas bringing the
individual into collision with institutions, are Timon of
Athens and Coriolanus. He also said that Sophocles
aims to show that Antigone is punished unjustly; and
Dr. Harris remarked that she is really a champion of
religious institutions against political ones. How far
Shakespeare was in advance of the Greek dramatists in
letting the punishment of criminals proceed from their
own conscience rather than from any arbitrary decree of
a supernatural Nemesis, was spoken of by Professor
Shackford. Dr. Barlol spoke to a large audience of the
healthy delight in this world shown by the great dram-
atist, who is not like Emerson, a celestial visitor, but
has taken out his .naturalization papers. Marlowe, the
most revolutionary writer of his century, was depicted
by Mr. Sanborn, as were Ford and Massinger by Mrs.
Cheney. Mrs. Howe spoke on Aristophanes and the
Elizabethan Drama, and Mr. Cooke on Brozvning's
Dramatic Genius.
Among the most instructive lectures was that of
Professor Davidson, on Education in Greece. He
showed how the old method which sought merely to
make good citizens, was reconciled with the new theory
of getting knowledge for its own sake by Socrates, who
answered the question, How to restore the lost moral
sanctions? by inventing liberty, which should be de-
fined as "action guided by knowledge and insight, not
by habit and traditional authority."
Another of his lectures, which was particularly
charming because it contained so many of his own
translations, showed how far all other women have been
surpassed in poetic genius by the "violet-crowned,
chaste, sweet-smiling Sappho," whom the Greeks placed
next to Homer, and whose intensity resembles Dante,
except in its freedom from mysticism, while the mascu-
line strength of Burns is united in her to the exquisite
womanly pathos and humor of Lady Nairn. Onlv one
of her songs, whose number must he estimated by the
hundred, has been suffered to come down to us unmuti-
lated by monkish bigotry, which delighted to perpetrate
such scandals as that about her suicide on account of un-
requited love. She is now known to have lived to a
good old age, and to have been the happy, honored
mother of the child of whom she savs,
I have a little maid as fair
As any golden (lower.
Among other fragments which have been spared by
the church is this,
The lullaby of waters cool
Through apple boughs is softly blown,
And, shaken from the rippling leaves,
Sleep droppeth down.
All antiquity admired these lines addressed to some
friend of her own sex:
I hold him as the gods above,
The man who sits before thy feet
And, near thee, hears thee whisper sweet,
And brighten with the smiles of love.
Thou smiled'st; like a timid bird
My heart cowered, fluttering in its place:
I saw thee but a moment's space,
And yet I could not frame a word.
Her own prophecy,
I think there will be memory of us yet
In after days,
has been fulfilled, for as another Greek poet said,
Sappho's white, speaking pages of dear song
Yet linger with us, and will linger long.
One of Dr. Harris' four lectures presented what he
calls " my best contribution to philosophy." This theory
which is said to have been attained by no other philoso-
pher, may be summed up thus. We can perceive noth-
ing but what we can identify with what was familiar
already. This identification is made unconsciously
through syllogisms. Sense-perception could not begin
without a priori ideas. Unconscious syllogizing forms
the warp and woof of human experience. The mind
acts in the form of syllogisms upon the presentation of
every sense-perception. A similar view is claimed, how-
ever, for Rosmini, and Mill ( Logic, II, III) shows the
inconsistency of the "set of writers" who " represent
the syllogism as the correct analysis of what the mind
actually performs in discovering" truths of science and
daily life, with "the doctrine, admitted by all writers on
the subject, that a syllogism can prove no more than is
involved in the premises." I must protest with Mephis-
topheles against the idea that
What we've done at a single stroke, easy and free,
Has got to take place in steps, one, two and three.
Dr. Harris and Professor Davidson are, without
doubt, the pillars of the school ; but there is some dif-
ference of opinion as to which of them is its indispens-
able support. Most of the lecturers who were annouced
on the programme have attended for at least a day or
THE OPEN COURT.
35/
two, or sent in their lectures to he read by others; and
and there have been fewer disappointments than a year
ago. The attendance has been smaller, owing partly to
the dryness of the main subject, and partly to the num-
ber of hot days before the session began; and a scholar
who has been present at several of the sessions writes
us, " No one of ability comes here now except to lecture,
and but few of the audience can take in what is origi-
nal in the metaphysics." Perhaps this statement needs
some qualification. It is a great pity that one of the
hottest and least accessible spots in Concord should have
been picked out for the chapel on account of nearness
to the house in which Mr. Alcott formerly dwelt.
The school closed Thursday evening last week, with a
reading of Scotch ballads after another lecture by Pro-
fessor Davidson. Jin^lisli and Scotch Philosophers
and Poets of Nature, beginning with Thomson, were
provisionally announced as the subjects for next year.
The present management of the Concord School is
not, in our opinion, adapted to make its work one of
great importance in the solution or discussion of philo-
sophical questions. The school is controlled not by
minds imbued with the spirit of modern scientific and
philosophic thought, but by one or two men whose
chief tastes and interests are merely literary. Hence it
resorts to the discussion of Greek and Elizabethan
literature, when, as the Boston Herald observes, it ought
to be "a wrestling place of the giants of the earth."
"As a coterie of a few bright men engaged in literary
studies, it has no future, but as the arena for free philo-
sophical discussion, it should have special attraction for
our best thinkers in the field of philosophy, sociology
and religion."
GERMAN INFLUENCE IN AMERICA.
What Dr. McGlynn, the excommunicated priest,
says in his rather sensational article in the August
number of the North American Review in favor of
the rights of conscience, the separation of Church
and State, the equal taxation of the property of all
corporations, without exception in favor of any
ecclesiastical bodies, and the support from the com-
mon treasury only of common schools and common
charities is good, although but a repetition of what
our liberal journals have been saying for years.
What he presents respecting the attitude of the
Roman Catholic church toward our public schools is,
too, doubtless, just. But many of his statements —
such as that American institutions are in danger
from German influence, that there is a scheme on
foot to Germanize the country and to make the Ger-
man as much the national language as English, and
that this influence has its stronghold in the Catholic
church, which like the country at large is to be Ger-
manized— will not strengthen confidence in his
sagacity and judgment among intelligent unpreju-
diced thinkers.
German is as much the language of Protestantism
and Freethought as of Roman Catholicism. German
immigrants are among the most intelligent and
liberty-loving that come to this country; they be-
come attached to our institutions and yield to those
forces which soon make all immigrants Americans
and determine the leading language of the country.
German as well as English is a language of science,
philosophy, poetry and song, a knowledge of which
is necessary to a liberal education, and it is not
strange that Germans cling to this language anil use-
it to teach their children German learning and litera-
ture; but this is done without neglecting to learn and
use the language in which most of the business of
the country is done and in which its constitution
and laws are written. There is nothing to indicate
that the Catholic church is especially interested in
increasing, or that our institutions are in danger
from German influence, which in this country is
strongly republican and on the whole liberal in its
religious character.
It is stated on apparently good authority that
there is not much demand for the revised editions of
either the Old or the New Testament, compared with
the demand for King James' version, which with all
its errors, is still preferred by the people. Mr.
Magee, of the Methodist Book Establishment, said
recently to a reporter:
The revised version is no good as an article of merchandise,
and we would not venture to order a half dozen copies at one
time. The people have no confidence in it, and are not willing
to adopt the mere verbal changes. There is too much capital
represented in the old Bible to be supplanted.
* * *
Professor Cope, in the American Naturalist, calls
attention to the fact that the Nero type of physiog-
nomy is becoming frequent among the weaklings
who lounge about club rooms and are taught to do
nothing but gratify their senses. Imbecility and
family extinction flow from power used for debasing
purposes. The history of the Romanoff Czars of
Russia give extreme illustrations of this.
A minister was questioning his Sunday school concerning
the storv of Entychus — the young man who, listening to the
preaching of the Apostle Paul, fell asleep, and falling down, was
taken up dead. "What," he said, "do we learn from this solemn
event?" when the reply from a little girl came pat and prompt:
" Please, sir, ministers should not preach too long sermons! "-
Investigator.
* * #
" Bov," said a schoolmaster, putting his hand on the boys'
shoulder, " I b=lieve Satan has got hold of you." " I believe so
too," replied the boy.
;ss
THE OPEN COURT.
MONTGOMERY ON THE THEOLOGY OF
EVOLUTION.*
BY PROFESSOR E. D. COPE.
Part II.
I must here warn my readers not to infer that my
doctrine involves any foresight or intention on the part
of living things as to their evolution. Consciousness is
first passive, and is merely stimulated by contact with
matter. Its subsequent action is determined first by its
immediate needs, and second by the intelligence with
which it satisfies them. No animal, except man, has yet
taken into account the future evolution of his kind, and
■even he in a majority of instances neglects to adopt the
measures necessary to accomplish it. Sensation is a
humble department of mind, but it has accomplished
•wonders. The action of the environment alone, with-
out its intelligent response, would have extinguished life
almost as soon as it had birth on the earth.
I refer here to the recent expression of Weissmann,
that structures acquired through the movements of
animals cannot be inherited by their descendents. He
leases this opinion on the fact that the reproductive
elements of animals have a continuous life; i. e., that the
reproductive cells have their origin from certain cells of
the gastrula, and that protoplasm of the one has an
.-absolute continuity of existence from that of the other.
Let this be granted; the fact is, however, clearly demon-
strated by paleontology, that characters have been suc-
cessively acquired by animals, and that they have been
inherited. And it can be shown that these characters
.are just as much due to mechanical causes as would have
been the case with so much dead matter, moved in the
same -cay. But that the motions of the animals could
have taken place in the manner they have, excepting
under the original influence of consciousness is not for
& moment to be supposed.
Professor Weissmann's reproductive cells, like other
cells, experience nutrition in the course of their exist-
ence. Tnis is necessary to supply the material necessary
to segmentation, both before and after fertilization. It
is the molecular condition of this nutrition which deter-
mines the changes noted in inheritance, and which con-
stitute evolution.
The fact is that evidence of the control of mind over
matter is much clearer when sought for in the special
•department of science called phylogeny (or evolution )
than in any of the departments which deal with finished
creations. Mind is then seen to be related to matter
somewhat as the builder is related to his house. When
the house is finished, we no longer behold him as a
creator; on the contrary, we see him everywhere under
restraint. The walls prevent him to the right and left,
and the floors and ceilings below and above. lie is
compelled to lie on the bed he has made for himself, to
« A Lecture by E. D. Cope. Arnold & Co.: Philadelphia. 1SS7.
cook in his kitchen and to eat in his dining-room. His
liberty is curtailed on every hand. His house wears
out, and it must be repaired from time to time at his
own expense. But do we learn of the man's true rela-
tions to the house by these observations? Surely not.
We must see him as the builder before we comprehend
his importance to the house. So it is with physiology
or functioning as compared with phylogeny or crea-
tion. Function of all kinds, whether in the processes of
life, or of chemical or of physical energy, betrays little of
the creator. It is rather the destroyer that we see.
Phylogeny, on the other hand, shows us the building
and the builder. In many living processes, however,
both functioning and building go on simultaneously.
Building is in excess of destruction when use adds
something to pre-existent structure. But when use is in
too small or in too great quantity, not addition, but sub-
traction (or degeneracy) follows. I believe that the pri-
mary source of obscurity in all discussions on the
relations of mind to matter is the failure to discriminate
between the functioning of the finished machine, and
the original building of the machine. Functioning is
seen in the automatic stage of mind, or most frequently
in the automatic stage of energy, which is still more
remote from the conscious mind. Yet more remote from
its source is the man-made machine which records and
repeats to us the thoughts of its author, as the book on
the phonograph, to which Mr. Montgomery refers.
j. Objection to the Doctrine of the Unspccialized.
Nothing is better known in animal and vegetable
phylogeny than that the unspecialized is the parent of
the specialized; and the corresponding truth in general
evolution is well stated by Spencer as the process of
change of the homogeneous to the heterogeneous.
Ontogeny teaches the same truth as seen in the growth
of the mind from infancy to maturity, and in this field,
as in that of inferior functions, ontogeny probably
repeats phylogeny. I have cited the mind of the
amceba as the most primitive and the most generalized,
and have declared that from this primitive consciousness,
aided by its copartner memory, the varied and more
complex minds of all higher animals have been derived.
Dr. Montgomery opens his objection to this view by
denying consciousness to the amceba. In proof of
this he asserts "that nutritive assimilation and the pro-
trusion and retraction of processes take place solely by
dint of the chemical and physical relations subsisting
between the organism and its medium, and between
different parts of its own protoplasm" (Part III). Now
I do not question the truth of the above statement. I
have nowhere stated assimilation of nutritive material
to be accompanied by consciousness, or at least to be
produced by it, nor is the contractility of protoplasm
to be regarded as an indication of the presence of con-
sciousness. Not even designed movements mean present
THE OF- EN COURT.
359
consciousness; but I believe that such movements
can only have had their origin in consciousness. That
the amccba exhibits conscious-designed acts is testified
to by Leidy in the following language:* "The amccba
evidently possesses a power of discrimination and selec-
tion in its food, for although it appropriates with the
latter many particles of vegetal tissues, and even
abundance of sand-grains, it commonly rejects dead
diatom shells, and the empty shells of other alga?."
Leidy also remarks :y "Personal consciousness is ob-
served as a conditio>i of each and every living animal,
ranging from microscopic forms to man." But it is not yet
demonstrated that the amccba may not be degenerate and
automatic, rather than the most primitive of animals.
There is an incredulity as to the mentalitv of ani-
mals which is natural to the human being. The only
way to get over this state of mind is to observe them.
Dr. Montgomery has studied the protozoa, and if he has
not seen them perform designed acts he differs in experi-
ence from some of the ablest students of the subject.
The second objection (b) to the doctrine of the
unspecialized is directed against the opinion that proto-
plasm is a generalized substance. He remarks (Part
III) that I "obviously believe morphologically unor-
ganized protoplasm to be also molecularly unorganized."
This sentence does not correctly express my opinion as
I have stated it in several places in The Origin of the
Fittest. I there called attention to the fact that proto-
plasm consists of an association of simple substances
which represent the four predominant types of chemi-
cal valency. From this I infer that the result is likely
to be a greater or less mutual restraint of the four types
of molecular motion, producing, perhaps, a neutraliza-
tion of much of it through interference. • This is further
suggested by the very inert character of protoplasm itself.
Again, I understand that static chemical energy is the
condition of stabilitv of chemical compounds. This sta-
bility is therefore the expression of the most positive
types of chemism, and we know that these types, as
expressed in stable compounds, arc many. But proto-
plasm displays neither chemical energy as a whole, in
relation to other substances, nor stability of union as
regards its component parts. So far, then, as regards
the type of energy known as chemism, protoplasm is
one of the most generalized of substances, and this
statement will be true, of course, with reference to such
molecular movements as express that kind of energy.
It is just this weakness, in all probability, which gives
opportunity for the kind of motion or energy which rep-
resents vitality, whether it be conscious at a given time
and place, or whether it be a recent product of conscious
energy, of the reflex or some other automatic form. Dr.
Montgomery has missed my meaning on this subject
^Monograph of Fresh Water RhizopoJs of North America, 1879, p. 44.
^Christian Register, April 7, 18S7.
completely, and his argument thus loses its relevancy. I
admit and believe fully that the molecular peculiarity of
the protoplasm of different species of living things is
the very cause and condition of inheritance, anil have
so published. But this has obviously nothing to do
with chemical energv.
4. Objection to Inference of Deity.
As a basis of inference for the existence of primitive
mind or Deity, we have then the following facts: First,
the direction of energy by will; second, the direction of
the evolution of organic beings either immediately or
primitively by will; third, the necessity for belief in an
anti-chemical type of energy to account for the stability
of living protoplasm. As a matter of speculation we
havetthe extreme improbability of the restriction of mind
to the earth, among the myriad bodies of the universe.
The fact second above mentioned involves the "law
of the unspecialized," since evolution shows that primi-
tive forms are always unspecialized, both in mechanical
and mental organism and function. According to this
principle the primitive mind must be simple and without
those intellectual and moral qualities which characterize
the highest known, that is, human, minds. On this
ground Dr. Montgomery asserts that my primitive mind
or Deity must be of lower constitution than human
minds, but perhaps of about the grade of that of the
amoeba. Taken by itself this view has a reasonable
appearance. (Critique, Part II.)
Not wishing to reach any conclusion by an a priori
method, I have as I think, in the first and second propo-
sitions above enumerated, confined myself to demon-
strated facts. I have in the third proposition stated a
fact of which the interpretation requires further scien-
tific evidence for its support, but in the correctness of
which I have nevertheless great confidence. Facts may
sometimes appear to land the logical reasoner in absurd-
ities, but it may be in such case confidently assumed
that the absurdity is but an appearance of temporary
duration. The reductio ad absurditm of Dr. Mont-
gomery of a "generalized," and therefore utterly inapt
Deity from my premises, is an instance of this kind. If
I believed that the physical basis of Deity is protoplasm,
his reductio would be legitimate, but I have in various
ways asserted my disbelief in such an idea, a disbelief
which necessarily follows from an extension of the
"doctrine of the unspecialized " to the inorganic world.
Function, mental and other, follows organization in the
organic world, but not a step would ever have been
taken without consciousness to inaugurate it. The same
law was probably applied to the construction of proto-
plasm, which though generalized in respect to chemical
functions, is itself the product of specialization from still
simpler antecedents. Under the circumstances we are
forced into a hypothesis in order to explain facts other-
wise inexplicable. It is this:
\6o
^l-A,
rHE OPEN COU RT
We know that consciousness of every degree may
he, and is, experienced by men, as results of various
physical interferences. We see the same phenomenon
in all living things. There is no reason to suppose that
the case is different in the universe generally. We may
believe that consciousness, like combustion, will invade
every physical basis which is capable of exhibiting it
whether in greater or lesser degree. Is there any reason
to suppose that protoplasm is the best substance in the
universe for the display of the phenomena of conscious-
ness? Probably not. Certainly not if we are to judge
from its exhibitions in the protozoa. Metaphorically
speaking, protoplasm without some peculiarities of or-
ganization of which we know nothing, appears to be
almost am-esthetic to consciousness. We do not know
the physical basis of the most pronounced consciousness,
but we can safely conclude that it is not protoplasm.
Science will probably some day reveal it to us. That it
will be chemically inert we may well believe, but how
complex may be its molecule, cannot be surmised. If
the law of the unspecialized is true in molecular physics
as it is in chemistry and in organism, it will be the sim-
plest of substances, the protyle of chemical speculation.
The question of the immortality of the lesser mind
of man is inseparably connected with that of the exist-
ence of Deity. Direct evidence on this question is al-
most wanting. I say almost, in view of the many asser-
tions made by reliable people as to the appearance to
them of persons after death, which I am unable to re-
fute or accept. Nevertheless a belief in a primitive or
predominent mind, or Deity, is entirely favorable to a be-
lief in immortality. If the human mind can acquire a
relation to a physical basis similar to that of the divine
imind, it must continue to exist. As development of will
has elevated the human mind from its humble beginnings,
we naturally look to the same source for further pro-
gress. Evolution looks on the interaction of social forces
of contending and co-operating interests and affections,
as the source of that development of the standard of
will-action which we call moral. And it is evident that
if there be an)' existence beyond the present one, a
moral order is the only one which is practicable as a
state of enjoyment. Moral will power then represents
the highest attribute of mind, whether greater or lesser,
and we must suppose that it has, like other mental func-
tions, a correspondingly peculiar molecular basis. Anil
it must he the creator of this basis under the general
law of the limited control of mind over physical energy.
It seems eminently reasonable that the development of
will in man should eventuate in the production of a
type of energy similar in kind to that which expresses
will in Deity, and that it should be persistent in the one
ease as it is in the other.
5. Conclusion.
The objections which Dr. Montgomery has expressed
against the Theology of Evolution are the effective'
ones that can and will be made. As the reader
perceives, I do not regard them as affecting its stablility.
As I have attempted nothing but fundamentals, so there
is no dispute as to details. But I wish to say in con-
cluding, that from a scientific standpoint the subject is
in its most primitive stages. I shall be gratified if I
have succeeded in effecting one result in some minds;
that is, if I have proven to their satisfaction that the
question is at least an open one, and that instead of the
result of scientific research having proved inimical to a
belief in the past, present and future existence of con-
scious mind in the universe, it is decidedly and posi-
tively favorable to such a belief. I refer to conscious
mind as a practical question which interests everybody.
The unconscious mind, though highly important from a
scientific point of view, is not important to theology or
morals. Doubtless some automatic form of energy
exists to which Haeckel's expression atom-soul may be
applicable, and his plastidule-soul may be my bathmism;
but no one who believes in the immortality of these or
any other forms of energy only, can be regarded sa
believing in the immortality of consciousness. Argu-
ments both for and against such immortality derived
from the consideration of the conservation of such forms
of energy, are perfectly idle. We do not know of any
form of inorganic energy that is persistent, that is that
does not undergo constant metamorphosis, excepting
heat, and this is not the physical hasis of consciousness.
Of a somewhat less mysterious and inscrutable char-
acter than the plastidule-soul of Haeckel is the "per-
durable substratum" of Montgomery. Some explana-
tion of the mysteries of evolution and mind must be
had, and these hypotheses represent the efforts in this
direction of two able men. The latter does not adopt
the view of Haeckel, but endeavors in his highly inter-
esting article on the " Substantiality of Life,"* to dem-
onstrate the existence of a "perdurable substratum " for
the display of organic phenomena, both mental and
non-mental. He puts in philosophical form the hypoth-
esis of the soul. I ennnot perceive, however, that he
adduces other than speculative evidence for the exist-
ence of this "substratum," or that he succeeds in abol-
ishing the "aggregation hypothesis" of science. That
such a substratum may exist I will not attempt to deny,
and as a working hypothesis it can be entertained so
long as it does not conflict with tridimensional realism.
The principal ground for the substratum hypothesis as
regards mind, is found in the evanescent quality of con-
sciousness, and in the precision of its reappearances. In
the language of the article quoted (p. 31 ) " conscious states
are clearly ephemeral influences of an enduring being,
poised — far beyond conceptual comprehension — in the
exquisitely exact and subtle balance of what symbolically
* Mind, July, 1SS1.
j
the open court.
361
reveals itself to us as vital substantiality." But the sub-
stratum which returns consciousness into being after
unconsciousness in the physical organism, is the auto-
matic form of energy which effects repair of exhausted
tissue (as is stated by the author, p. 25), a species of
energy which owes its individuality to the conscious-
ness which preceded it in time, and of which it is a
dead derivative product. No other "substratum" is
necessary so far as I see, but I am not at present pre-
pared to deny its existence. We know of the creative
power of consciousness; of anything else we do not
know. And thus knowing, we may rest in a definite
hope that consciousness does and will continue to
create a form or forms of energy which will persist in a
physical basis which is more permanent than that per-
ishable protoplasm of which it is now a property.
As regards any unconscious substratum of conscious-
ness, not tridimensional matter and energy, I am an agnos-
tic. I do not know what represents consciousness during
its eclipse. I would not consider my hypothesis fatally de-
fective if it should be discovered that there is nothing
left to take care of the premises during its absence, but
organic energy. This is the field for future research.
Meanwhile we can trust consciousness for what it can do
when it is present.
There are some minor points on which I differ more
or less with the language at least of my critic, but it is
not desirable to extend the discussion beyond a reason-
able length. One of these is as to the nature of the
impressions produced on the mental organism (brain)
bv external stimuli. I have asserted that the man re-
ceives them, and is passive. Dr. Montgomery states
that they are received in a form that is as much "satu-
rated with intelligence" as are the movements which is-
sue from the man in response. Perhaps this statement
is a little fuller than its author intends to make. In the
sense in which I used the word passive, i. e., without ex-
hibition of will, my statement is certainly correct; if Dr.
Montgomery wishes to express the fact that perception
as a subjective act possesses all the peculiarities of the
subject, I agree with him. As to the peculiarities
of perception being rightly included under the head
of intelligence, I doubt it. I at least used intelli-
gence as the act of the intellect, for which perception
simply furnishes the material.
In closing I will observe that the personal and me-
chanical conceptions of the universe, which are almost
everywhere regarded as antagonistic and mutually
exclusive, are not truly such. Both are true. The me-
chanical type of order is the automatic product of the
personal, by cryptopnoy. It is the dead which is always
present with the living. Catagenesis is the only theory
which reconciles the personal and mechanical theories of
the universe.
The views expressed in the preceding pages have
been necessarilv discursive; I therefore summarize them
so far as they relate to theological issues.
1. Nothing exists excepting tridimensional matter
and its properties (or behavior).
2. The properties of matter are energy (motion)
and consciousness.
3. Consciousness is not a property of universal
matter, but is conditioned by the axiomatic qualities of
matter, of extension and resistence.
4. The mode of motion (energy) of matter is on
die other hand primitively conditioned by consciousness,
but ceases to be so conditioned when it reaches a certain
degree of automatism (to be better defined by future
research).
5. Consciousness ultimately disappears from matter
and energy w.i.ch have established automatic conditions;
therefore the condition of the persistence of conscious-
ness is the maintenance of will, the antagonist of me-
chanical automatism.
6. Every new process of conscious will creates
new (? molecular) machinery in the conscious matter.
7. Hence physical and mental development de-
pend on the will.
S. The phylogeny of protoplasm requires a parent
substance.
9. Since then the existence of primitive mind in a
primitive physical basis is far more probable than the
opposite view, the existence of a Supreme Being is ex-
ceedingly probable.
10. Since will controls the movements and organi-
zation of matter, the persistence of human conscious-
ness in other worlds than the earth is possible.
MEMORY.
Prof. W. D. Gunning gave a lecture recently at
Keokuk, la., on "Memory" in which he presented in-
teresting facts and illustrations in support of positions
which have been maintained in papers printed in this
journal, by Mr. Edward C. Hegeler, Prof. Ewald
Ilering, and in abstracts of some of Ribot's works, pre-
pared for and presented by Mr. Hegeler. Professor
Gunning said in substance:
You sit idly on a veranda in Florida, where the odor of flow-
ers and blossoms regale you, but pass away. A woodpecker tells
his song from a neighboring tree. Years pass and you forget it-
You happen in the home of a professor in Indiana, and from a
mocking bird you hear the very song — the identical song — you
heard from a woodpecker in Florida; while you were on the
veranda a mocking bird was perched, perchance, on the ridgepole
and heard the song as idly as you, but its brain was a phonograph,
and the symbols passed latent through five generations, when the
phonograph began to unreel. In the common phonograph the
words and tones of the human voice are latent in the dots and
dashes of the ribbon, and the instrument speaks back to you
every word and tone. So the bird carries a chronograph in its
brain. Where is Munchausen with his storv of frozen music
which sang again as it thawed? Munchausen told a story of a
362
THE OPEN COURT.
horse hitched to a church steeple not so marvelous as the story
which a horse tells of itself when it trembles at the scent of a
lion it does not see, and when no odor of a lion had ever assailed
its sense. How deeply were the attacks of the lion indented on
the brain of the horse perhaps five thousand years ago, and the
phonograph again unwinds at a whiff from a lion's cage now.
Every organized being is such a phonograph. Darwin found the
birds' on the Gelapagos Islands so tame they would light on his
hand. No man had been there to teach them dread. Since then
men have frequented the Island, and now a bird at sight of man
shudders as a horse at scent of a lion. The birds remember how
men stoned and shot his ancestors before he was hatched. At
Rock Island the government forbids man to kill birds and articu-
late brutes. The memory of persecution is already fading from
the memory of birds, turtles and squirrels. Some had forgotteni
some had dim recollection. Under the touch of science instinct
has stepped from its robes of kingcraft that held in awe the mind,
and its name now is "unconscious memory." It is memory
physiological memory. Instinct may be called the "inherited
experiences of a species." Memory, in its lowest phase, is a func.
tion of organized matter. Limbs remember lessons of walking
and walk automatically. The vast procession of life through
ages of earth commensurate with the spaces of the heaven, ever
widening, ever gaining new powers of perceiving, getting deeper
emotions, never quite forgetting, until the age that it holds in
unconscious memory all the ages foregone and man is impacted
memory of all yesterdays. The conception takes us into the
inner temple of nature. Matter and mind are different phases of
one fact. You know that the speech or song from the phono-
graph does not come from nothingness. It may be a mystery ?
but not a deep one to science ; and if it were it would only type
that deepest mystery, the unsolved problem of philosophy, the
relation of the mind to matter. You know that the thoughts of
man do not come from nothing. Their underlying stratum is a
gray, lace-like membrane. When you remember an incident of
childhood it was indented on the life-stuff of the mind. The
indented tablet gives up its record, and thoughts and fancies of
the past flit across the field of consciousness. "Will you say that
in assigning a natural basis to memory I am weighting matter
with properties which it cannot carry?" But a few years ago
elementary works on philosophy gave a full inventory of the
properties of every form of matter. But who is there now whose
eyes are so clairvoyant over the realm of matter? Who could
have thought that a sheet of paper could carry latent, as long as
the paper endured, the tones of the voice?
CORRESPONDENCE.
A LETTER FROM ENGLAND.
To the Editors: London, England.
One notable sign of the times is the rebellion in Wales and
many of the agricultural districts of England, against the payment
of certain dues to the Church known as tithes. The payment of
tithes in England originated with one of our earliest law-makers,
Offa, King of Mercia. In 794 Otl'a is supposed to have given all
his tithes to the Church in expiation of some particular sin. This
law, of course, only extended over Mercia, the dominion controlled
by Ofl'a, but sixty years later Ethelwolf enforced it over all Eng-
land, and his grant to the Church was confirmed by succeeding
kings. William I (the Conquerer), following Edward the Confes-
sor, enacted that " Of all corn the tenth sheaf is due to God, and
therefore let it be paid to him." In like manner, if any shall have
a herd of mares, the tenth colt; if any have cows, the tenth calf;
of cheeses, the tenth cheese; of milk, the milk of the tenth day;
the tenth part of the profit of bees, woods, parks, meadows,
orchards and "of all things which the Lord shall give." If any
one feels inclined to withhold his tenth part, said William of Nor-
many, then he shall be forced the payment thereof.
Tithes are divided into three kinds, predial, mixed and personal.
Predial tithes are payable on the annual produce of the ground;
mixed tithes are payable on things nourished by the ground or on
the fruits thereof (colts, cheeses, etc.); personal tithes are payable
on profits arising from the personal labor and industry of man.
The tithes are also divided into two classes, great and small. The
great tithes are those due on corn, hay and wood. The small
tithes include the mixed and personal and all the predial other than
those which come under the head of "great."
As may easily be imagined the payment of these tithes in kind
excited much ill-feeling which grew as the years went on so that
at length, in the years 1S36, 1837, 1S38 and 1839, four acts — known
as the "Tithe Commutation Acts" — were passed. These acts pro-
vide for the substitution of a corn rent, payable in money, for all
tithes. Extraordinary tithes are paid on hop grounds or market
gardens, coming into cultivation since the Tithe Commutation
Acts.
In England the objection to the payment of tithes is directed
mainly against the extraordinary tithes and the principal seat of
the rebellion is in the great hop growing districts of Kent. In
Wales, however, the refusal to pay tithes bears a somewhat differ-
ent aspect and is without doubt in the majority of cases, objection
on the part of non-conformists to pay dues to a church to which
they do not belong. There, then, is a steady resistance against
the payment of any tithes whatsoever, and this resistance has in-
creased to such a degree that the agitation is now popularly known
as " the tithe war."
On the 13th of May the bailiffs employed by the Ecclesiastical
Commissioners went to Llandrills to serve writs of distraint on
certain rebellious farmers — for the law still upholds William's
fiat, that he who is inclined to withhold his tenth part, shall be
forced the payment thereof. On one farm the bailiffs seized
twelve cattle for a claim of £20; on the next, a stack of hay for
£22; on the third, four cows for £19. There was tremendous ex-
citement in the neighborhood and the bailiffs were prevented from
going to some of the farms by large crowds which had assembled
The men, armed with sticks, hid themselves behind hedges until
the bailiffs came up and then springing suddenly upon them
caused them to run. At Cynwyd (between Corwen and Llan-
drills, Merionethshire), the auctioneers were surrounded by farm
laborers and stoned.
Disturbances are continually taking place at the sales and
a force of 250 police were sent into Meifod Valley, Montgom-
eryshire, to protect the representatives of Christ Church, Oxford,
in selling stock seized for unpaid tithe. It is stated that no fur-
ther attempt will be made to effect the sales without the assist-
ance of the military.
I have just been staying at Jersey, one of the Channel Islands,
and there, I am informed, tithes are payable on corn and apples
only. Curiouslv enough, corn has fallen almost entirely out of
cultivation and there are now comparatively few orchards, it has
been found much more profitable to grow potatoes than either
corn or apples; so that, at Jersey, although the clergy have the
right to exact tithes, nevertheless there is little or nothing for
them to exact them on.
A letter from Lord Randolph Churchill which appeared in
the Times of May 15th, upon the position of the conservative
party and the Oaths Bill has produced considerable agitation in the
minds of many members of his party. The letter is somewhat
long as Lord Randolph gives his view of the course of action
taken by Mr. Bradlaugh and the House of Commons in reference
to him since 1880, but the point lies in the concluding paragraphs
in which he says, " I am strongly of opinion that the hands of
THE OPEN COURT.
363
those who, like myself, were identified with opposition to Mr.
Bradlaugh in a former parliament are tied. Should we oppose
and defeat the bill we by no means exclude Mr. Bradlaugh from
parliament; all we do is that we provide that the oath shall be con-
tinually profaned whenever Mr. Bradlaugh or persons of similar
opinions are elected as members of the House of Commons. By
supporting and passing the bill, on the other hand, we secure that
the parliamentary oath in the future will in all probability only be
taken by those who believe in and who revere its effective solem-
nity." This letter of Lord Randolph Churchill's was in reply to one
from the Rev. Dr. Lee, who appealed to his lordship to do his " ut-
most to defeat so fundamentally bad and so destructive a measure "
as that Oaths Bill, which he says is backed by eight revolutionists.
The day after Lord Randolph Churchill's letter appeared there
was one in the Times from a very old and venerated member of
the Tory party, the Right Hon. J. G. Hubbard, asking to explain
why conservatives who have opposed Mr. Bradlaugh in the past
may consistently oppose the Oaths Bill now. "An affirmation de-
vised to ignore God even though it do not in terms exclude Him "
writes Mr. Hubbard, " is in words a promise or a declaration, but
the words can have no binding effect upon him who utters them,
for he owes responsibility to no being beyond or higher than him-
self, and the oath or affirmation of a proclaimed infidel can carry
to others no conviction of his testimony, and can impart no confi-
dence in his promise.'' It is strange how meanlv Christians hold
their fellow-men, they do not seem able to believe that men will
do right merely because it is right; they seem to think that men
must be coerced into right doing by fear of punishment or hope of
reward. Of course I am now considering men who are commonly
supposed to be honest; fear of punishment or hope of reward be-
yond the grave never withheld the dishonest man from his wrong-
doing; the punishment and the reward are too remote. The gaol
is much more effective, it is nearer. Several other letters appeared
in the Times, of no great importance, and then came one from Mr.
Bradlaugh, in which he clearly states the position of freethinkers
in regard to the oath. Hypatia Bradlaugh Bonner.
Howard, Mary Carpenter, Florence Nightingale, Robt. Raikes,
etc., witnessing scenes similar to that which nearly deprived
Mr. Parton of his reason, have had their whole lives changed
thereby. This sort of crankiness Mr Parton thinks he has success-
fully avoided. To me his case seems to be the not uncommon
one of
" One lost soul more,
One task more declined, one more footpath untrod,
One more devil's-triumph and sorrow for angels,
One wrong more to man, one more insult to God."
John Basil Barnhii.l.
[While we yield to Mr. Barnhill's special request to print the
above, we must say that in our opinion it fails to do justice to the
meaning and spirit of the article criticised. — Ed.]
MR. PARTON'S ARTICLE ON "LABOR CRANKS''
CRITICISED.
To the Editors:
May I ask for space for a few observations on Mr. Parton's
recent paper on " Labor Cranks " [printed in The Open Court
No. 5]? I am not at all disposed to challenge the correctness of
many of Mr. Parton's statements. I admit that an overwhelming
compassion for human suffering and sorrow has wrought a cer-
tain sort of ruin in many a life. If Jesus had not had this over-
whelming compassion, he might have escaped what Mr. Parton
would doubtless esteem the highly unsatisfactory end of a public
execution. If his soul had been of a different fiber he might
indeed have had so much " patience and tolerance " with the ideas
current in his time, that he could have lived with impunity to a
green old age, and have become one of the most illustrious of the
hair-splitting rabbis. As it was he preferred, like many other
so-called cranks, " to give to misery all he had — a tear." He stands
forever a "youth to fortune unknown," but not to fame. Still, no
one could deny that by his untimely taking off he was "disqual-
ified from thinking beneficially " or otherwise — that he thereby
lost the " power of communicating with other minds."
Mr. Parton admits that he once had much compassion for
suffering and sunken humanity, but this is remembered now only
as a youthful indiscretion. He has so far conquered this effeminate
tendency of his nature that he can now contemplate thousands of
his fellow-creatures in misery and ignorance, unmoved. Did not
Nero give the highest proof of Mr. Parton's philosophy, when the
Eternal City was in flames?
Other men and women — such cranks, for instance, as John
INTERNATIONAL FREETHOUGHT CONGRESS,
1887.
To the Editors: June n, 1S87.
I should be obliged if you would give the widest publicity to
the annexed invitation. I should also be very pleased to send
special invitations to any American freethinkers whose names
and addresses you might furnish to me.
Yours very sincerely,
C. Bradlaugh.
Bv the authority ol the Council-General of the International
Federation of Freethinkers, under the auspices of the National
Secular Society (of which I am president), and with the approval
and confirmation of the freethinkers of Great Britain and Ireland
in conference at Rochdale assembled, I most earnestly invite you
to attend the sittings of the International Freethought Congress,
to be held in the Hall of Science, 142 Old street, E. C, London,
at 10:30 a. m., on Saturday, September 10, at 11:15 A- M-> on
Sunday, September 11 and at 10:30 A. m. on Monday, Septem-
ber 12.
Your early reply will be esteemed a favor.
Charles Bradlaugh.
20 Circus Road, St. John's Wood, London, N.W.
MEMORY AND CONSCIOUS MENTAL LIFE.
To the Editors : New York City, July 20, 1887.
I cannot pass by the very courteous queries of your corres-
pondent Janet E. Ruutz-Rees, regarding one point in ray article
in The Open Court, on the subject of " Personal Immortality "
(May 12, 1SS7). I think it due to her to explain a little more fully
mv assertion that memory is essential to conscious life. I did not
go into such an explanation because I had already done so in my
System of Psychology. In the analysis of consciousness which
I make there, it appears that conscious experience univers-
ally requires both the presentative and the representative as neces-
sary elements and that no consciousness whatever is attained
without representation. The elements of conscious experience
are agreement, difference, time, representation and power, active
and passive. In order to any continuance of sensation or thought
in the absence of which continuance there can be no conscious-
ness) there must even be a representation from moment to
moment of the preceding moment's experience. Without this
there can be no identification nor distinguishing. Hence, there
can be no perception without representation, or memory ; and it no
perception, certainly no conscious experience whatever; for gen-
eralization, abstraction and reasoning evidently depend upon
memory. In other words, representation is primordial and essen-
tial to all consciousness. The latter consists' of apprehensions of
likeness and difference ; these require continuance, else there could
be no such apprehension; and there is no duration of the expe-
rience without the postulate of representation. We have no per-
ception of a tree without a re-cognition of the object, a reference
to a class which our past experience has enabled us to constitute.
364
THE OPEN COURT.
Where there is sensation with representation at a minimum, cog-
nition is at a minimum ; and when we get so low down in the scale
of consciousness as to find that there is substantially no memory
we discover that there is no consciousness. As representation
varies so conscious mental life varies in degree of definiteness.
I shall hardly venture to repeat the analysis made in my
Psychology. Indeed, you could not allow me the space. But if
it should happen that your correspondent has access to the work
in question (London: Longmans & Co., 18S4), she will find my
ideas fully set forth in Chapters IX, XXXII, XXXVII)
XXXVIll" and XXXIX.
In conclusion let me thank her both for the inquiry she makes
and for her own suggestions upon the general topic.
Very truly yours,
Daniel Greenleaf Thompson.
BOOK REVIEWS.
The Emancipation of Massachusetts. By Brooks Adams.
Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin & Co., 18S7; pp-
3S2. Price $1.50.
No better evidence of the rapid advance of Freethought in
this age could be offered than this work, written by a Boston
lawyer, the grandson of the sixth and the great grandson of the
second President of the United States, and a member of a family
remarkable for its legal, political and literary ability; a work
which has already met with angry criticism from orthodox
sources, and with dubious comment from the conservative critics
of the secular press. If it had been written by any active and
avowed Freethinker and issued by a Freethought publishing con-
cern, it would, even in these days of growing liberalism, have
been generally denounced as a bitter libel upon the revered his-
torical idols of the old Bay State, and the "Puritan ancestors"
upon which the state prides itself. The work is written in a vig-
orous style, in a daring spirit and is eloquently palpitant with the
intense desire of its lawyer-author to bring forward in the strong-
est light "the other side" of a story which lie seems to feel has
been only half told hitherto, and that half with manifest theologi
cal and partial bias. The "emancipation" of which the book
claims to give the history, is the evolution of colonial Massachu-
setts from what the author calls a " theocracy " to a genuinely
republican form of government. Mr. Adams says, "there would
seem to be a point in the pathway of civilization where every
race passes more or less under the dominion of a sacred caste.
When and how the more robust have emerged into freedom is
uncertain, but enough is known to make it possible to trace the
process by which this insidious power is acquired and the means
by which it is perpetuated," and it is this which he here under-
takes to do in the case of Massachusetts, with whose history that of
his own family is so closely interwoven. His arraignment of the
Puritan clergy is very severe. He accuses them of arrogance, big-
otry, cruelty and greedy assumption and abuse of power. He does
not hesitate to make strong accusations or to use straightforward
phrases in regard to them, of which we give a few samples. " The
clergy held the State within their grasp and shrank from no deed
of blood to guard the interests of their order." " One striking
characteristic of the theocracy was its love for inflicting mental
suffering upon its victims." " 1 he power of the priesthood lies
in submission to a creed. In their onslaughts on rebellion they
have exhausted human torments; nor in their lust for earthly
dominion have they 'felt remorse, but rather joy when slaying
Christ's enemies and their own." " who was bred for the
church, and whose savage bigotry endeared him to the clergy."
"The duplicity characteristic of theological politics." During
the supremacy of the clergy the government was doomed to be
both persecuting and repressive." "An established priesthood is
naturally the firmest support of despotism." "An autocratic
priesthood." "A venomous priesthood," etc. He brings up a
startling array of witnesses against the evil wrought by the
clergy in the matter of the witchcraft craze, and their treatment
of Quakers, Anabaptists and others who presumed to differ from
their Congregational creed. Some of the evidence in these cases
read like nightmare horrors set down in cold print. His pen por-
traits of some of those whose names are familiar to us in colonial
history are often strongly drawn and set these heroes before us in
entirely new lights. Especially vivid are his delineations of the
Mathers, father and son, Increase and Cotton, also of Samuel
Adams, Anne Hutchinson, John Cotton, John Winthrop, John
Endicott and others. Extracts are given from the Mather's pri-
vate diaries, which revtal in a pathetically ludicrous light the
intense religious self-deceptions of these two undoubtedly strong
men, and suggests thoughtful studies of human nature. Mr.
Adams does not fail to render due justice to the nobler charac-
teristics of these men, his main purpose being to show what effect
sincere belief in their creeds had upon their actions and their
time. Speaking of the pilgrim fathers, he observes truly, "The
exiles of the Reformation were enthusiasts, for none would then
have dared defy the pains of heresy, in whom the instinct onward
was feebler than the fear of death. Yet when the wanderers
reached America the mental growth of the majority had culmi-
nated, and they had passed into the age of routine, and exactly
in proportion as their youthful inspiration had been fervid, was
their later formalism intense." In this sentence is a lesson and a
warning to the enthusiasts of to-day.
Aphorisms of the Three Threes. By Ed-ward Owings
To~vne. Chicago: Charles H. Kerr X' Co., 1887; pp. 41.
Price, $1.00.
The rather mystifying title of this handsomely printed and
daintily bound volume leads one in these days of "occult" inves-
tigation to expect something more romantic than the really
prosaic origin of it as given by the compiler in the preface, which
is that a club of gentlemen in Chicago dine together on " every
ninth night after the first night of each and every of the nine
months following the ninth month of the year," and enter into
elaborate conversation, "seated in threes at three three legged
tables," and that one of these nine, in a spirit of friendly appre-
ciation of the wit and wisdom of his companions, has noted one
hundred and eighty-one of the sayings which appeared to him
particularly wise or sparkling and made a book of them which is,
we hope, gratifying to those thus complimented. Doubtless, in
the glamour thrown over these sayings by a good dinner and its
accompaniments, they seemed to their reporter worthy of so
enduring a form, but we fear they will strike the majority of
unbiased readers as being mainly a collection of platitudes, com-
monplace, sophistic or pert.
The Popular Science Monthly for August is filled with its usual
abundance of progressive educative literature, among which we
can only briefly note ex-President A. D. While's "New Chapters
in the Warfare of Science," which deal with the Middle Age
ecclesiastical views respecting meteorological phenomena; these
are sharply contrasted with the almost universal modern view
that law governs them all. In "Astronomy with an Opera Glass"
Mr. Serviss describes and illustrates pictorially what can be seen
in the moon and the sun with that handy little instrument. Grant
Allen gives a review of "The Progress of Science from 1836 to
to 18S6," or substantially the period covered by the reign of
Queen Victoria. A biographical sketch and a portrait are given
of Paul Gervais, a French zoologist and paleontologist. The
subjects of "Scientific Orthodoxy," and the application of "Phys-
ical Culture as a Means of Moral Reform," are discussed in the
"Editor's Table."
The Open Court
A Fortnightly Journal,
Devoted to the Work of Establishing Ethics and Religion Upon a Scientific Basis.
Vol. I. No. 14.
CHICAGO, AUGUST 18, 1887.
\ Three Dollars per Year.
i Single Copies, 15 cts.
THE SIMPLICITY OF THOUGHT.*
BY PROF. F. MAX MtlLLER.
One of three Lectures on the Science of Thought delivered at
the Royal Institution, London, March, 1S7S.
Part II.
[Not published nor to be published in England.]
All difficulties which visit us in the various spheres
of thought, whether scientific, historical, philosophical,
or religious, vanish as soon as we carefully examine the
words in which we think. Let us see clearly what we
have put into every word, its so-called intention, and let
us never try to take more out of it than we or others
have put into it. My wonder is, not that we misunder-
stand ourselves and others so often, but rather that we
ever understand ourselves and others correctly. From
our earliest childhood we accept our words on trust.
We fill them at random, and when we come to compare
and to exchange them, we are surprised if thev do not
always produce on others the same effect which they
produce on ourselves.
And if that is so in treating of the common affairs of
life, how much more mischief must language produce,
when we deal with philosophical problems? To my
mind true philosophy is a constant katharsis of our
words, and the more completely this process of purifica-
tion is carried out, the more completely the clouds will
vanish which now obscure Logic, Physiology, Meta-
physics and Ethics. How could there be contradictions
in the world, if we ourselves had not produced them ?
The world itself is clear and simple and right; we our-
selves only derange and huddle and muddle it. Hamann
said many years ago: "Language is not only the foun-
dation of the whole faculty of thinking, but the central
point also from which proceeds the misunderstanding of
reason herself." There is, therefore, no help or hope
for philosophy except what may come from the science
of thought, founded as it is on the science of language.
I can only give a few illustrations, but every one will
be able to carry out the same experiment for himself.
How often do we hear it said : " I am not a material-
ist; still, there is a great deal to be said for materialism."
What is the meaning of that? It simply means that we
are playing with words, or rather that words are play-
ing with us.
If we want to know what materialism is we must
* Copyright, 1S77, by The Open Court Publishing Co.
first of all study the meaning of the word matter. The
history of a word, if only we could get at it in all its
completeness, is always its best definition. It has been
the fashion to laugh at etymologies, but in laughing at
etymologies we are only laughing at ourselves. Every
word is an historical fact as much as a pyramid. Now
a pyramid may seem a very foolish and ridiculous build-
ing, but for all that it represents a real primitive thought
executed in stone, just as every word represents a real
primitive thought executed in sound. The builders of
the pyramids and the architects of our language are so
far removed from us that in trying to interpret what they
meant by their pyramids or by their words we are apt
to go wrong. But the very fact that we are able to tell
when our interpretation has been wrong shows that we
are competent also to judge when our interpretation is
right. The etymological meaning of every word shows
us the intention with which that word was framed, and
allows us an insight into the thoughts of those palaeozoic
people whose language we are still speaking at the pres-
ent moment. Moment is not a very ancient word, but
how does it come to mean present time? A/omen turn
stands for movimentitm, and, being derived from moverc,
it meant motion, and, applied to time, the motion of
time. "At the present moment " was therefore intended
originally for " at this motion of time," or, it ma}' be,
" at this motion of the shadow on the dial." But moment
had also another meaning. It meant anything that
makes move, therefore weight, importance, value. Now
if we tried to derive the second meaning from the first,
we should go wrong; and we should at once be set
right by any one who knew that momentum in Latin
was used also for the weight which made the scales of
a balance move, which was therefore a matter of impor-
tance, something decisive, something momentous.
If, then, in the same manner we ask for the original
meaning of matter, we find that it comes to us through
French from Latin materies. Matcries in Latin meant
the solid wood of a tree, then timber for building; and
it had that meaning because it was derived from the root
MA, to measure, to make. Wood became and was
called materies only when it had been measured and
properly shaped for building purposes. From meaning
the wood with which a house was built it came to mean
anything substantial out of which something else had
been shaped and fashioned. If people made a wooden
366
THE OPEN COURT.
idol, they distinguished between the material, the wood
and the form. When statues were made of metal or
marble, these also were called the matter or material;
and at last, whenever the question came to be asked what
anything — what, in fact, the whole world — was made of,
the same word was used again and again, till it came to
mean what it means with us now, matter, as distinguished
from form. This matter, then, which may be wood, or
metal, or stone, or at last anything of which something-
else is supposed to consist, is clearly beyond the reach of
the senses. The senses can never give us any informa-
tion about matter in general, because, as we saw, matter
may be either wood, or stone, or metal, or anything else,
and such a protean thing escapes entirely the grasp of
the senses. We know matter as a name only, not as
matter, but as a name which conveys exactly what
we have put into it, neither more nor less.
If that name had been used by philosophers by pro-
fession only they might no doubt have differed about the
right meaning of the word, but they would have felt
hound to give us an exact definition of it. But, unfor-
tunately, philosophy cannot reserve a language for its
own purposes. Whatever terms philosophers coin soon
enter into the general currency ; they are clipped and
defaced and recast in the most perplexing way. People
now speak of decaying matter, and matters of impor-
tance. "What is the matter?" people say, and they
answer, " It does not matter."
Such is the injury which words suffer by wear and
tear that true philosophers feel it all the more incumbent
on themselves to call in, from time to time, the most
important words to weigh and assay them once more,
and then to fix once for all the exact meaning which they
mean to attach to them. Locke* defined matter as an
extended solid substance. I doubt whether we gain
much by that definition, for substance comprises no more
than matter, while extended and solid means hardly
more than that matter exists in space and time. At all
events if matter escapes the grasp of our senses, so does
substance. To speak of matter and substance as some-
thing existing by itself and presented to the senses, is
again mere mythologj-.
Mill evidently felt that substance was nothing sub-
stantial but a mere abstraction, that is, a word; and he
therefore defined matter as the " permanent possibility of
sensation." But that is a mere playing with words. We
cannot say matter is possibility, for in doing so we stray
from one category into another. We can only say mat-
ter is what renders sensation possible, or, more correctly
still, matter is what can be perceived, provided that it
possesses perceptible qualities. The important feature
in Mill's definition of matter is the contrast which he
establishes between matter and mind, the former being,
according to him, the permanent possibility of sensation,
*On the Understanding, IV., 3; p. 420. (Ed. London, 1S30.)
i. e., of being perceived; the latter the permanent pos-
sibility of feeling, i. e., of perceiving.
If, then, we once define matter as what by its quali-
ties can permanently be felt, in opposition to mind or
what can permanently feel, it is clear that in all our rea-
sonings about matter we ought to abide by this defini-
tion. What, then, shall we say to a declaration such as
we find in Mill's Logic, that it is a mere fallacy to say-
that matter cannot think. He cannot mean a fallacy of
the senses, for, as I explained before, matter, as such —
that is, matter without its qualities— can never fall under
the cognizance of the senses. Matter is a word and
concept of our own making, and it contains neither more
nor less than we have put into it. But whatever we
may put into this thought-word, we must not put into it
what is contradictory.
Now I ask, is it not self-contradictory first to define
matter as what can be perceived, in opposition to mind,
or what perceives, and then to turn round and say that
after all matter also may not only perceive, but think ?
Mill would not venture to say that thought was possible
without perception, and therefore his argument that it is
a fallacy to say that matter cannot think seems to me a
contradiction in terms. I do not say that we could not
conceive thought to be annexed to any arrangements ot
material particles. On the contrary, I should say that
our experience never shows us thought except as annexed
to some arrangement of material particles. But when
we have once separated matter from thought, when we
have called matter- what is perceived, in opposition to
thought or what perceives, we must not eat our own
words or swallow our own thoughts by saying that, for
all we know, matter may think or mind may be touched
and handled.
From this point of view I call materialism no more
than a grammatical blunder. It is the substitution of a
nominative for an accusative, or of an active for a passive
verb. At first we mean by matter what is perceived,
not, indeed, by itself, hut by its qualities; but in the end
it is made to mean the very opposite, namely, what per-
ceives, and is thus supposed to lay hold of and strangle itself.
What causes the irritations of our senses is confounded
with what receives these irritations; what is perceived
with what perceives, what is conceived with what con-
ceives, what is named with the namer. It is admitted
on all sides that there never could be such a thing as an
object or as matter except when it has been perceived by
a subject or a mind. And yet we are asked by material-
ists to believe that the perceiving subject, or the mind, is
really the result of a long continued development of the
object or of matter. This is a logical somersault which
it seems almost impossible to perform, and yet it has been
performed again and again in the history of philosophy.
And do not suppose that I have an)' prejudice against
materialism. To my mind spiritualism commits exactly
THE OPEN COURT.
367
the same grammatical blunder as materialism. We can-
not compare matter and spirit, and say, like the old
Gnostics, that one is of the devil and the other of God.
Matter is the temple of the spirit. It is immense, it is
incomprehensible, it is marvelous. Matter is all that is
given us to know, and the whole wisdom of the human
race constitutes but a very small portion of what matter
is meant to teach us. Why, then, should we despise
matter instead of falling on our knees before it, or at all
events listening with reverential awe to the lessons which
the Highest Wisdom has designed to teach us from
behind its vail ?
There is nothing morally wrong in materialism as a
philosophical system. Its weakness arises from the
fundamental grammatical blunder on which it is based,
the change of it into /.
And the same blunder underlies spiritualism. Spirit
was one of the many names by which human ignorance
tried to lay hold of the perceiver as distinguished from
the perceived. It is a poor name, if you like; it meant
originally no more than a puff or whiff, a breeze, a
breath. It is an old metaphor, and all metaphors are
dangerous things. Still, as long as we know what we
mean by it, it can do no harm. Now, whatever defini-
tion may be given of spirit by different philosophers,
they all agree in this: that spirit is subjective, perceiving,
knowing; and if, therefore, spiritualism tried to account
for what is objective, perceived or known as spirit, it
commits exactly the same grammatical blunder as mate-
rialism, it changes I into it.
Matter and spirit are correlative, but they are not
interchangeable terms. In the true sense, spirit is a
name for the universal subject, matter for the universal
object. And as there can be no subject without an
object, nor an object without a subject, neither can there
be, within a narrower sphere, spirit without matter, nor
matter without spirit. Matter is determined by us quite
as much as we are determined by matter. As we have
made and defined the two words and concepts, matter
and spirit, they are now inseparable; and the two sys-
tems of philosophy, materialism and spiritualism, have
no sense by themselves but will have to be merged in
the higher system of idealism. The science of language
teaches us what such words as matter and spirit meant
in the beginning, and what they came to mean in course
of time in different schools of philosophy. The science
of thought has to teach us what such words shall or shall
not mean in future ; nay, it has sometimes to relegate
them altogether from the dictionary of philosophy.
These few illustrations must suffice to show you
what work the science of thought has to do. It has to
carry out a complete reformation of all philosophy, and
it has to do this by examining the foundations on which
philosophy stands, by analyzing every brick with which
its walls have been built, by testing 'all the arches on
which its cupola is made to rest. If we think in words
we must never take words on trust, but must be read}-
to give an account of every term with which our think-
ing and speaking is carried on.
I showed how in natural history the one term
species, which was introduced at random we hardly
know by whom, has caused endless confusion of thought.
As there was the term species, it was taken for granted
that there must be something corresponding to it in
nature. Now I have nothing to say against species in
the Aristotelian sense of the word. It is a useful word
for many purposes, as when we have to speak of swords,
or knives, or books, or any other sorts of things as so
many species. But in nature there is no need and no
room for species, and to try to find the origin of species
in nature is like trying to find the origin of ghosts and
goblins. The science of thought is meant to break the
spell of words, but that spell is far more powerful than
we imagine.
One of the richest sources of philosophical mythol-
ogy springs from the transition of nouns of quality into
nouns of substance. We are quite correct, for instance,
in saying I feel hungry, or, I am hungry and thirsty
and we may safely speak of our hunger or thirst if we
restrict these words to the expression of qualities or
states. But when language leads us on to say, I have
hunger, I have thirst, hunger and thirst are apt to
become entities. We then go on to say that we are
driven by hunger or thirst, or that we have lost our hun-
ger and thirst, that is, our appetite. And then the ques-
tion arises, What is hunger and thirst, or what are our
appetites, our desires, our passions? We imagine we
have to possess something which we may call our pas-
sions. We ask for their seat, for their origin, for their
nature, and then the psychologist steps in and dissects
these passions, and describes them as if they were things
or entities by themselves, like corpses on a dissecting
table.
In this case, however, a little reflection suffices to
show us that to speak of passions and appetites by them-
selves is only a convenient way of speaking, and no one
would think that he was being robbed if passions are
shown to be no more than states of feeling.
It is different, however, when the science of thought
proceeds to show by exactly the same analysis that there
is no such thing as intellect, understanding and reason.
" I reason " meant, as we saw, " I add and subtract." If,
then, we proceed to say that we possess reason, that
means no more than that we possess addition and sub-
traction. No one, however, would say that, because we
can combine, or add and subtract, therefore there is some
entity, or faculty, or power, or force within us called
combination, which enlightens us, which lifts us above
the animal creation, which rules our thoughts — nay,
which governs the whole world. I do not deny that we
368
THB OPEN COURT.
reason; on the contrary, I hold that we do nothing else.
But as little as we possess a thing called hunger because
we are hungry, or a thing called patience because we are
patient, do we possess a thing called reason because we
are rational. Why, then, should philosophers trouble
their heads about the true seat of reason, whether it is
in the brain or in the heart or in the stomach? Why
should they write it with a capital R, and make a god-
dess of Reason and worship her, as she was actually
worshiped in the streets of Paris? What would the
French mob have said if they had been told that in wor-
shiping this goddess of Reason they were worshiping
addition and subtraction? Yet so it was; and possibly
addition and subtraction were something far more per-
fect and wonderful than the goddess of Reason before
whom they knelt and burnt incense.
This is, of course, an extreme case of philosophical
mythology and idolatry, but the number of these psycho-
logical gods and goddesses, heroes, fairies and hobgob-
lins is very large. Our mind is swarming with them^
and every one of them counts a number of worshipers
who are deeply offended if we doubt their existence.
The protests are already beginning, as I fully anticipated,
against my philosophical heresy in having denied the
existence of reason, intellect and understanding. As the
Ephesians cried out with one voice about the space of
two hours, " Great is Diana of the Ephesians!" I know
I shall have to hear for the space of more than two
hours, the shout of my critics, " Great is the Reason,
great is the Intellect, great is the Understanding of the
Reviewers!" Yet I am not a blasphemer of the great
goddess of Reason; all I have tried to show is that to
reason — that is, to add and to subtract — is simply an act
which we perform, and that the goddess, if goddess there
must be, is not an image which fell down from Jupiter,
but the voice within us which makes us keep a true
account of all we think and speak and do.
It is difficult — nay, it is impossible — to give in a
course of three lectures an adequate idea of what I mean
by the science of thought, still more to answer all the
more or less obvious objections that may be raised against
the fundamental principle of that science, namely, the
identity of thought and language. 1 must ask you to
look upon these three lectures as a kind of a preface only ;
and if you think the subject worthy of a fuller considera-
tion, this large volume on the Science of Thought
which I have just published will give you all the neces-
sary material, and will supply the answers to many of
the questions which have been addressed to me by some
of those who have done me the honor of attending these
lectures. One of the questions which I have been asked
most frequently is: If thought is identical with language,
what about deaf and dumb people? Are they unable
to think because they are unable to speak ?
My answer is, first of all, that deaf and dumb people
are exceptions, and we must not allow our general argu-
ments to be influenced by a few anomalies. Secondly,
I have the authority of the best judges, such as Professor
Huxley, for stating that a man born dumb, notwithstand-
ing his great cerebral mass and his inheritance of strong
intellectual instincts, would be capable of few higher
intellectual manifestations than an orang or a chimpan-
zee if he were confined to the society of dumb associates.
Thirdly, we must remember that words are not the only
embodiment of thought. Holding up three fingers is as
good a sign for the addition of one, one, one, as the
sound of three. Shaking the fist in the face is as express-
ive as saying "Don't." Hieroglyphic writing shows us
how our thoughts may be embodied in signs without
any reference to the sound of spoken words, and
Chinese is read and understood perfectly by people who,
when they pronounce and speak it, are quite unintelli-
gible to each other.
It is by means of signs appealing to the sense of
sight, and not at first to the sense of hearing, that deaf
and dumb people are educated and thus become what
they were meant to be, rational beings.
Again, as to animals, I have been asked whether
they, because they are dumb, must be declared to be
incapable of thought. Here the science of thought
steps in at once and says: "Before you ask whether
animals think, define what you mean by thinking."
Descartes, in his famous aphorism which is supposed to
form the foundation of all modern philosophy, Cogito,
ergo s»m, explains cogito, I think, as comprising every
kind of mental action. If, therefore, we mean by think-
ing, perceiving, enjoying, remembering, fearing, loving
and all the rest, we have no grounds for denying ani-
mals, particularly the higher animals, the possession of
these qualities. Their enjoyments, their fears and hopes,
their loves and disappointments may be different from
ours, still, with the usual discount, animals may claim
for the troubles of their souls the same words which we
use for our own. Every philosopher, however, knows
that what we seem to know of the inner workings of
the mind of animals we cannot know directly, but by
analogy only. We judge by signs. If, then, we mean
by thought that mental function which has its outward
sign and embodiment in language, we must say that ani-
mals do not think as we think, namely, in words. They
may think in their own way. Their way of thinking
may be, for all we know, more perfect than our own.
I am inclined to believe all the good that can possibly be
said of animals, but I cannot allow that they think, if
we define thinking by speaking.
Definition, here as elsewhere, is the only salvation of
philosophy. If we wish to fight and conquer we must
look to our swords; if we wish to argue and to conquer
we must look to our words. " Looking to our words "
is the fundamental lesson of the science of thought. Do
THE OPEN COURT.
369
not let us despise words. They are the most wonderful
things in the world. Their history, or, as we now call
it, their evolution, is more surprising than evolution in
any other sphere of nature. The beginnings are so few
and so small, their final outcome so magnificent and over-
whelming. To some minds, I know, nothing seems
grand or worthy of admiration except what is intricate,
complex and almost unintelligible; to others there is
nothing more fascinating than what is simple, regular
and almost transparent. The science of thought appeals
to the latter class. And as Kant, when in his Critique
of Reason he had disentangled the skein of mediaeval
philosophy, exclaimed in the words of Persius:
" Tecum habit a et novis quam sit tibi curta supelles I "
we may sum up the result of the science of thought in
the same words: "Dwell with thyself and you will
know how small thy household is!"
SEPARATION OF CHURCH AND STATE.
STATE OF THE QUESTION IN FRANCE.
Part I.
BY ALBERT REVILLE, PROFESSOR IN THE COLLEGE OF FRANCE.
It is to readers American and liberal that I now
address myself; and to readers, consequently, accustomed
to live where Church and State are separated, and who,
if I am not mistaken, would find it somewhat difficult to
put themselves into the same frame of mind as the socie-
ties of the old world. There, almost everywhere, union
is still the rule, even in old Republics such as that of
Switzerland. I shall perhaps even surprise more than
one of my readers, in telling them that in these Swiss
Republics it is the democracy that maintains the union,
the aristocracy that is rather disposed to separation.
Swiss democrats are afraid that the severance might be
too much in favor of plutocracy.
I ought equally to recall to my American readers
that the English mind in general — of which they repre-
sent the triumphant outcome upon new ground and freed
from old traditions — is already in England itself more
disposed toward this separation than the Continental
mind, whether of France or of Germany. Historical prec-
edents on the Continent have accustomed the people, for
centuries past, to ask for the intervention or support of
the State upon matters from which it becomes more and
more evident that the State, as such, should hold itself
aloof. This is most distinctly visible in the so-called
Latin races, who inherited from the Roman domination
a pronounced taste for centralization in all things; and
with the French people this is the case.
In England, albeit there exists a State Church largely
endowed and privileged, the considerable numbers and
the diversities of dissenters show that the mind of the
English people is not inherently opposed to separation
and that the disestablishment of the Anglican Church is
only now a question of time.
In France, what is the situation?
Since the Revolution of 'S9, omitting the fifteen
years of the Bourbon restoration, 1S15 to 1830, there
has been no State Church. The State, as such, pro-
fesses no definite religion. Very often, until the estab-
lishment of the actual Republic, facts have been in disac-
cord with this constitutional principle, inasmuch as on
many an occasion such as public festivals and military
masses, and in rules for public instruction, the State has
seemed to make profession of Roman Catholicism, basing
its action upon the incontestable fact that Roman Cathol-
icism was the religion of the great majority of French-
men. The latter Empire made itself above all conspic-
uous in these fallings off from acknowledged principles.
But this inconsistency was owing to customs of old date
or to momentary causes, rather than to any formal inten-
tion of making Catholicism a State religion. It had
long been criticised and blamed by the most liberal-
minded; and the existing Republic, able at length to put
into practice the principles of liberal democracy, has not
ceased to harmonize facts and theory. The govern-
ment, as such, does not identify itself with any particular
sect and labors actively, in its laws for public instruction
and for military organization, to put out of sight the last
absolute privileges which the Church of Rome still
possesses.
On the other hand, the French State recognizes and
subsidizes the churches that, by the number of their
adherents and their secular assemblies on the national
soil, appear to have a right to its official recognition and
to its aid. As a set-off to this, it claims the right to
supervise and to intervene, where the nomination of
their ministers and the management of their property
are concerned.
In the first place, we have the Roman Catholic
Church, which looks upon the forty to fifty millions of
francs, or even perhaps a little more, that are allotted to
it annually for the support of its clergy and its services,
as an indemnity intended to replace the revenues that it
drew from its real estate prior to the Revolution of '89.
When the Constituent Assembly merged all these pos-
sessions, termed mort-main, in the national domain, it
decided that thenceforward the Catholic priests should
receive an allowance from the State. This agreement,
unacknowledged during the revolutionary turmoil, was
affirmed by the concordat entered into between Napo-
leon, when First Consul, and the Court of Rome, and
since that time it has not ceased to be binding. It is to
be noted here that in France, considering the great
numerical preponderance of Roman Catholics, the older
and the modern governments have always deemed it
expedient to take precautions for guaranteeing the
national autonomy against possible pretentions or
encroachments on the part of the Popes, who, from
motives really or apparently religious, might meddle
with French affairs and thus restrict the independence
37°
THE OPEN COURT.
of the country. It is clear that the man whose indi-
vidual conscience is submitted to a priest, himself depend-
ent on a foreign superior, is not as a citizen as free as he
would be if he depended only on his God, without an
intermediary essential for his salvation. It is thus that,
conformably with the concordat, the government nomi-
nates the bishops, the Court of Rome giving them only
ecclesiastical confirmation, as also the cure's of impor
tant parishes, the others being simply officiating minis
ters. If a bishop appears to it to have abused his epis-
copal power in a manner prejudicial to public tranquility
or the national interest, it can summon him before the
Council of State and have him condemned by appeal
from the ecclesiastical to the civil court, such condemna-
tion authorizing the chief of the .State to banish him
from its territory. This extreme course has, however,
for a long period remained purely theoretical.
In the same way the French State recognizes and
subsidizes the Reformed Church (the old Calvinists),
that numbers about a million of adherents. It is the
President of the Republic who confirms the pastors
nominated by the Consistories — these latter being
appointed by suffrage of the faithful — after being
satisfied that they hold university diplomas granted by
the State faculties, in proof of regular studies and satis-
factory examinations. To this end the State supports
two faculties of Protestant theology, one at Montauban,
the other in Paris. That of Strasbourg was taken away
from France, with Alsace itself, at the close of the last
war with Germany.
This mutilation of territory, for which France cannot
console herself, has also greatly diminished the Church
called Lutheran, or that of the Confession of Augsbourg,
which counted in Alsace the larger number of its follow-
ers, and which, save in Paris and in the old country of
Montbeliard, has now but few communities. Neverthe-
less, it continues to receive for its pastors and its churches
the subsidies of the State.
It is the same with Jewish communities, that are sub-
jected to laws similar to these affecting Protestant
churches. Further still, since the conquest of Algeria —
although, properly speaking, it forms no part of the
organic law — the French government grants subsidies
to a certain number of Musselman communities.
There is then, without descending into details, an
undeniable spirit of liberalism and equity in the religious
constitution of France; and in this country, formerly
ravaged by religious wars and persecutions of grievous
intensity, it may be said that the Revolution of 'S9 —
except during the Reign of Terror and during the years
of reaction that followed the Restoration— inaugurated an
era of peace and tolerance, such as the old regime would
not have been willing to recognize as legitimate. That
old regime, concentrated in the person of the King
of France, was essentially and exclusively Roman
Catholic.
However, for a certain number of years past, voices
growing more and more numerous have been crying out
for the suppression of the budget of public worship and
for the total separation of Church and State.
It was in the protestantism of the French tongue,
under the impulse of Vinet and of the supporters of the
Reveil (French Methodists), that the first claims were
made. The right of the State, as such, to intermeddle
in the government of the Church was contested. It was
held that the Church, lulled to sleep under the guardian-
ship of the State, would be lacking in its own proper
vitality, directed as it would be by pastors, diplomed per-
haps and educated, but on whom the official investiture
could not confer the gifts of the Holy Spirit. It was
this movement that gave rise to the formation of a cer-
tain number of so-called Free Churches, several of
which exist in Paris and in the provinces. At the same
time it must be added — and again on this point I call
attention to a frame of mind that may be little known
and perhaps be difficult of comprehension in America —
the mass of French Protestants look with apprehension
upon schisms or external divisions in the Church. This
alone it is that explains why it has not yet ostensibly
divided itself into two groups, the one liberal and more
or less rationalistic, the other orthodox and more or less
faithful to the old orthodoxy. The fact is, the two do
co-exist under cover of the same organism, despite the
asperity of the controversies exchanged between theolo-
gians of opposite views. The majority of French Prot-
estants, knowing themselves to be of very small numeri-
cal force in comparison with the Roman Catholics, their
memory still freshly charged with the sufferings and
rude combats of their ancestors, regard their own Church
as a sort of religious department in the great national
country of the other, for which they nourish a sort of
veneration, an affection filial and tender, not easily to be
reconciled with the idea of separation and banding apart.
It is not on their side that are heard the most violent out-
cries in favor of detachment from the State. Without
apprehension, they wait to see what will come from the
relations of the Catholic Church with republican
democracy.
It is hence above all that arises the getting-up of
interrogations addressed to the Chambers and to the gov-
ernment. The question in France is much more politi-
cal than religious. For the ardent Catholics do not wish
for the separation. On the contrary, they would much
prefer that the book of compromises that has existed
since the Revolution should be suppressed, and that the
State should become again exclusively Catholic as it
was formerly. The Roman clergy have never recog-
nized as legitimate a state of things that places "error"
and "truth" on an equal footing.
THE OPEN COURT.
37i
But it is well-known that, of all the countries of
Catholic traditions, France is the one where the Catholic
creed is the most lowered in popular esteem. And here
there must be no exaggeration. The falling-off from
Catholicism is more palpable in the towns than in the
country, in certain of the Central and Northern depart-
ments than in others. Brittany, a notable portion of the
South, and French Flanders, in a word, those districts
where the inferior classes still speak a local -patois, still
cling earnestly to the Catholic faith. On the other hand,
the departments the most industrious, the richest, the
most densely populated — except, perhaps, that of the
Nord, as it is specially called — are in great measure
emancipated from their old moral bondage to the clergy.
It is also to be observed that the women in large
majority have remained more deeply attached to Cathol-
icism than the men, which is not without notable influ-
ence on the disposition of children and the family
instincts.
But as a general rule it may be said that a very large
proportion of young Frenchmen shake off, toward the
age of twentv, the religious ideas that were instilled into
their childhood. Skepticism or incredulity take their
place, augmented by the gross superstitions that the
Catholic clergy uphold. Mistrust of the priesthood,
when it is not a passionate hatred, succeeds to earlier
submission. It is at once the force and the misfortune
of Roman Catholicism, that the majority of those whom
it brings up in its school confound it absolutely with
Christianity, with religion in itself, and think themselves
called upon the moment they reject the Catholic dogmas,
to reject also all religious belief. Protestantism has in
their eyes but a partial approval. It is, they say, less
absurd, less anti-national, more liberal; but it gives them
the impression of having halted half-way, of being odd,
eccentric, singular. They rather incline to wish it well,
but remotely ; and above all have rarely any idea of
entering its ranks. So much the more, inasmuch as
marriage brings back the revolted Catholic as a matter
of course into a sort of compromise. The promised
bride is generally a devout and practicing Catholic, and
she could not be had without a Catholic marriage. The
mother desires that the children should be baptized; and,
for the sake of peace the man consents to become Cath-
olic again during some hours of his life, taking it out by
abuse of the clergy and their pretensions, all the rest of
the time.
BREADTH AND EARNESTNESS.
BY CELIA P. WOOLLEY.
A friend with whom I was lately discussing some
question of social reform, and the efficacy of philan-
thropic effort in general, asked me if I did not think the
increased knowledge and mental breadth which the
years bring to all of us were almost inevitably accom-
panied by a decreased moral enthusiasm? The question
is one of the saddest, but one also which every thought-
ful mind is compelled to ask at times. My friend is both
thoughtful and intelligent, with conscience and sym-
pathies keenly alive to the sufferings and shortcomings
of his kind ; one of those natures in which a rigorous
logic, unrelieved by imagination or great spiritual trust
and insight, governs all the other faculties. Such a
nature, always subjecting its vision of ideal truth and
goodness to the narrow measurements of intellectual
definition, is, when accompanied by a sensitive heart,
necessarily led to a depressed view of life and its own
surroundings. It is my observation that this extreme
conscientiousness, applied to processes of thought as well
as to practical affairs, forms a large ingredient of the
pessimistic philosophy of the day. I have small sym-
pathy with those critics who, complacently resting on
the sublime heights of their idealistic creeds, are con-
tent scornfully to ignore every less pleasing interpreta-
tion of the universe than their own; and to me the
pains of a moderate and thoughtful pessimism are more
easily understood than the conceited joys of an unquali-
fied optimism. Without, therefore, taking fright at or
severely condemning my friend's view as set forth in his
question, I am inclined to give it sober examination.
Doubtless in many cases breadth of intellectual hori-
zon is gained at the expense of moral earnestness;
but this is haidlv more than to say that in the realm of
morals as in nature one of the first effects of an enlarged
view is loss of visual distinctness. Climbing the moun-
tain to catch a wider vision of the surrounding country,
the adventurous tourist sees both less and more than
before; smaller details and particulars are lost in the
largeness of the scene, and have become blended with
the general landscape. But if our mountain climber
has another object in view, is a practical surveyor let us
say, intent on the selection of a new town-site, this
larger view will prove as useful as that gained from the
plain below, if he wishes to consult scenic effect and
fitness, the minor morals of his work, along with more
practical needs. The same truth holds in the moral
realm. The social reformer needs the widest possible
survey of the field in which he labors, the largest
knowledge of men and human motives, and of the
laws governing the world's j31'0?1'6515- Proof of this
is found in the advanced charitable methods of the day.
The old thoughtless standards of benevolence, with the
unreasoning methods of help and relief to which they
gave rise, have been replaced by the severe, but safe,
instructions of scientific philanthropy, which seeks to
work upon as accurate data and with the same patience
and logical precision as in material science. The
leaders in the associated charities movement are basing
their efforts upon a wider knowledge of the problem
with which they are dealing than their predecessors pos-
sessed, knowledge taking the form of carefully-gathered
THE OPEN COURT.
statistics, yet not accompanied, so far, by a depressed
faith in their work. On the contrary, the workers in
this particular field are distinguished for their cheerful
courage and zeal. In this case wider knowledge means
nearer knowledge, nearer heart as well as brain knowl-
edge, intimate acquaintance and sympathy with those
elements of wrecked and diseased manhood which make
up the philanthropist's problem. All true knowledge
that men gain of each other, of whatever class or con-
dition, must be of this kind. Failure in knowledge
generally results from failure in sympathy, as conversely
stated failure in sympathy results from lack of knowl-
edge.
We can divorce knowledge from moral enthusiasm
only as we misinterpret both terms. There is a so-called
culture extant in our times which admits no strong unit-
ing tie with conscience and the sense of obligation; that
easy, dilettante conversance with books, — knowledge
often of the names of things rather then of the things
themselves — that complacently holds itself aloof from
the world's duties and needs, and is as cold and selfish at
heart as any form of brutal tyranny that ever oppressed
the race. It has neither breadth nor vitality, nothing
but what Margaret Fuller called the "cold skepticism
of the understanding." No such abnormal develop-
ment of one set of faculties above another can be digni-
fied with the name of culture. Equally there is a
kind of enthusiasm, the ardent, undisciplined faith of
youth, which the superior knowledge of manhood cor-
jects and modifies. We need not mourn the loss of such
enthusiasm, which, useful in its place, appears elsewhere
as silliness; as the artless trust and innocence which
make up the charm of childhood become unbearable
when preserved in such a figure as Dickens has por-
trayed in Harold Skimpole. There is an enthusiasm
which is but the overflow of exuberant fancy and child-
ish good nature, as there is another which, owning the
deeper quality of faith, I like rather to call by that name,
partaking as it does of that deep soul-content and trust
which, in spite of loss and discouragement, still abides.
A widening knowledge of men and things may
bring diminished faith in immediate results, though it
need not do that if we estimate results on the side of
character and self-discipline. When enthusiasm dies it
is because it has Been too much engrossed in these im-
mediate results; but it is the very essence of faith to
wait the unseen and far off. Knowing how slowly the
world was made, and with what difficulty man has won
his present degree of progress, the wise reformer sub-
mits to copy his efforts after those of the universe, to
work along the slow, sure lines of nature and the
world's past achievement, moderating his hopes to the
promises here conveyed. Science teaches us that we
can do anything in the work of reform but hurry. It is
because things do not move faster, and a hundred failures
seem necessary to a single success, that my friend
and others like him, with conscience and sympathy un-
duly excited by the loss and waste that everywhere
accompany fruition, are led to their present mournful es-
timate of things. Perhaps we need to correct our
notions of failure. The lenses Herschel spoiled before
completing the final perfect one were failures perhaps
as regarded the immediate end of the lens, but successes,
rare and priceless, as related to the development of the
science of optics. Moral mistakes hurt and hinder the
man who makes them, but the race learns to conquer its
selfish instincts and base passions in no other way — and
by the race is meant no glittering abstraction, but the
aggregated number of individuals like ourselves.
The need of faith remains though most of its for-
mer objects have passed away ; faith in principle, the
abiding nature of those laws man has not more discov-
ered than wrought out of his own hard, glorious experi-
ence; faith based on the certainty of the just and sure
relation cause everywhere sustains to effect. I make
use here of part of a quotation found in a recent vol-
ume of essays: "Faith is a misapplied word when set
to the theological scheme as the way of salvation; faith
to me now is something which follows truthful, disin-
terested, sincere action, and stands waiting to see
whether you will accept whatever comes of such con-
duct, though it lead where you know not, see not, away
entirely from your own plan. The point is whether I
shall wish I had not done this or that, whether I shall
wish another way had been chosen, whether I will
seek to retrace steps, or whether I can say I saw not, yet
I acted to do right."
John Morley presents us with the same thought in
his essay on Rousseau, where he savs, " Men and
women are fairly judged by the way in which they bear
the burden of their own deeds. The deeper part of us
shows in the manner of accepting consequences."
Life is the greatest of consequences so far as the
necessity of our accepting it is concerned. Through the
combined action of choice and necessity we find our-
selves caught in the web of its mingled relations, with
something we have agreed to call duty continually
urging us forward; something we have learned to dis-
tinguish as hajDpiness and peace of mind when we
choose the right action above the wrong, and as unhap-
piness and sense of guilt when we make the contrary
choice. Such knowledge is enough to determine the
practical bent of men's lives, to prove the growing
worth of truth above falsehood, right above wrong, and
thus give rise to that assured expectation of goodness
we call faith.
And I find better evidence for belief in the con-
tinued, hopeful effort of man to promote and establish
this goodness, in that system of thought which takes all
knowledge for its province, than in any of the partial
THE OPEN COURT.
373
systems of the past based on miracle and credulous
fancv. Knowledge but increases, not destroys man's
power of usefulness in the world of material gain and
enterprise; and to suppose a contrary rule obtains in the
field of his moral achievment, is to convert the universe
into a hideous satire ; a conclusion which experience of
truth and goodness already gained, as well as the heart's
instincts, leads us to promptly rebel against and deny.
ARISTOCRATIC PROTESTANTISM.
BY C. K. WHIPPLE.
In an article in The Open Court of June 9, con-
trasting " Protestantism and the New Ethics," I find the
following passage :
" The general mass of mankind are regarded by it
("ordinary Protestantism] as 'children of wrath,' from
whom a remnant are graciously to be selected by some
mysterious process. Thus the ordinary Protestant doc-
trine is fundamentally aristocratic, denving practically
the unity of mankind (the very corner-stone of the new
ethics) and declaring a doctrine of divine favoritism."
This statement recalls the impression made upon my
mind during a close attendance, for several years pre-
ceding and following 1870, upon the daily prayer-
meetings of the Boston Young Men's Christian Asso-
ciation. I suppose the character and tendency, the
rules and methods of this institution, to remain now as
they were then; and if so, it may be worth while to
state the circumstances which then made me consider it
"fundamentally aristocratic," both in theory and practice.
The Young Men's Christian Association is a school
of preparation for membership in the orthodox church;
or more accurately, a recruiting office for enlistment
there. By its constitution and by-laws two classes of
members are established, one to make and execute the
rules, the other to obey the rules; one to govern, the
other to be governed; one to choose offices and be eligi-
ble to office, the other to hold a membership thus
restricted, and subject to the further restriction of lia-
bility to arbitrary dismissal by vote of the managers,
without cause assigned. It was, no doubt, these pecu-
liar features of the Young Men's Christian Association
which caused the formation of the "Boston Young
men's Christian Union" a really unsectarian and exceed-
ingly useful society.
I say really unsectarian, because the Young Men's
Christian Association makes special claim to be so, and,
curiously enough, does it on the ground thaj it excludes
from its superior class only those who are not members
of orthodox churches. Membership in Unitarian or
Universalist churches would absolutely disqualify for
upper membership in the Association, and would be
regarded as worse than belonging to no church whatever.
At the time of my intimacy with the Boston Young
Men's Christian Association, its sectarian character was
further shown by a rigid discrimination against unor-
thodox literature in books for the library and periodicals
for the reading-room. Nothing was consciously admit-
ted there which called in question any doctrine or
practice of the orthodox church, or which even pro.
posed inquiry into the authority upon which such
doctrine or practice rested. The idea of the ruling
authority manifestly was, first, by perpetual assertion
and assumption to persuade the inferior class that
the doctrines there taught were sound and indispu-
table, and next, to keep from their knowledge the fact
that any of them had been successfully controverted. For
instance, among the most constant and emphatic of the
assertions and assumptions made by those of the ruling
class who conducted the meetings were these: that the
bible, in all its parts, was "the word of God;" that no
error, either of fact or doctrine, could be found in either
the New or the Old Testament, and that all claims of the
discovery of such error had been successfully refuted.
Every one of these assumptions had been thoroughly
disproved in the works of Bishop Colenso, Francis \Y.
Newman, William Rathbone Greg and William E. H.
Lecky, as well as in the pamphlet by Andrew Tackson
Davis, entitled Self- Contradictions of the Bible. But
these works and the many like them by other authors,
would neither have been bought for the Young Men's
Christian Association library nor admitted to it if
offered as a gift. Yet the institution of whose policy
in every department this is a fair specimen, continually
and unblushingly claimed to be unsectarian.
The classification of members as high-caste or low-
caste was made at the very beginning. As soon as an
applicant had given his name, age and residence, he
was asked by the Secretary: " Of what church are you a
member?" If his reply did not show orthodox church-
membership, he was assigned to the inferior class, with
no vote in regard to the officers, or the administra-
tion or the policy of the society, or to any change
which might seem .desirable in either; and he was also
required to give his signature of acquiescence in the
system, one part of which was that he himself might at
any time be deprived of membership at the mere will of
the Executive Committee.
It is hardly to be expected that young men of even
average intelligence and self-respect should make appli-
cation for the crumbs that fall from such a table. On
the other hand, in a place so large as Boston there is no
lack of ignorance and credulity, and even so excellent
a thing as piety often co-exists with both. The pious
young man is taught to consider it his duty to take part
in the propagandist work of the Association, and,
though he is of course assigned to the governing class,
his first thought is of doing good by saving souls, and
he really works hard at it, repeating confidently the
formulas which the church has put in his mouth. And
374
THE OPEN COURT.
to the poor and ignorant young man who is not yet pious,
but who believes it essential to become so in the church's
sense, there are many attractive things in the view of
the Association given by those who invite him there.
There is a pleasant room, warmed and lighted at the
appropriate seasons, with pictures, and music, and liter-
ature of various sorts, and companionship spiritually
desirable, abundantly cheap at $i.ooayear, especially
as such membership is (they tell him) in the line of his
present duty, and also in the way of salvation. Is it
strange that many walk into that parlor, and continue to
sing the song that is taught them there?
The ignorance and credulity of which I have spoken
were bv no means confined to the subordinate class.
Both qualities were conspicuous in the majority of
young men who joined the Association while I was
conversant with it. Vew few of them seemed capable
of giving a reason for either their faith or their hope.
Verv few seemed to have the slightest conception
of the nature of evidence. And yet it seemed to be
taken for granted as a settled matter by both classes in
the Association that, as soon as one of these ignorant
young fellows became "pious," he was competent to
instruct all who were not so. And it was pathetic to
see the humility with which members of the subordi-
nate class accepted this doctrine, allowing themselves to
be catechized and lectured by one who had last week
been one of their own number, without venturing to
question him in return, or to doubt that the superiority
thus claimed was real, or to apply the test of reason to
his pretensions.
To return to the thought quoted at the beginning of
this article (that the ordinary Protestant doctrine is
fundamentally aristocratic) it was plain from the
demeanor of both classes in the Young Men's Christian
Association that they really believed that class No. I
possessed more rights and were entitled to more privi-
leges than class No. 2; and that the doctrine and policy
and practice of the Association would strongly tend to
keep them and their successors in that mind. In short,
that the influence of the Young Men's Christian Asso-
ciation tends toward a return to the doctrine of the
pilgrim fathers that the saints were the only appropriate
rulers, and that the right to vote depended upon mem-
bership in the church.
SCIENCE IN THE NEW CHURCH.
BY EDWARD CRANCH, PH.B., M.D.
"'What is Science, rightly known?'
'Tis the force of Life alone :
Life canst thou engender never,
Life must be Life's parent ever."
— Goethe and Schiller (JCem'a).
Life is a force, propagating itself in perpetual series,
where the conditions of suitable substances and conge-
nial forces are present.
All forces are practically one; man can change them
but not renew them, else could he produce Perpetual
Motion and the Elixir of Life. The origin of force for
this earth is, by common consent, referred to the sun, on
which we are dependent every moment, humbling as it
may sound. But what is the source of the sun's power,
and does life and vital heat come from our sun, or from
some power beyond? In short, what is the first cause
of all force and substance?
All past religions and many scientists have tried to
answer, but the thought of the world has gone beyond
all that has hitherto been offered, till now a New Church
is arising, upsetting all previous notions of a plurality of
gods, of an absolute tyrant-god, of a blind principle
called Nature; setting these aside and making all things
new.
Let us study the teachings of this New Church a lit-
tle and see if reason and experience will confirm them.
There is but one source of life and substance. Could
one least atom of outside substance be a source of life
it could control conditions, being self-existent, and make
itself infinite, thus destroying the universe, for there is
no room for two infinites.
That which is life itself must include, in the degree
of infinity, all the manifestations of life we can ever
know; therefore, it must be infinitely powerful and in-
finitely wise.
As there can be no life without substance, therefore
this infinite must be substance itself; indeed, in their
very source, life and substance must be identical, and
must be continually proceeding as an infinite will,
forming and creating, according to the endless accom-
modations of infinite wisdom. The only form that
unites will and wisdom in use, is the human. Animals
have only a semblance of them, and men only have them
in an imperfect, finite degree; but the form that alone
can use infinite will and infinite wisdom is a Divine Hu-
manity, from which creation has proceeded, something
in the way now to be outlined.
The first exhalations from this Divine Humanity, sur-
rounding him as every man's personal atmosphere of
exhaled particles surrounds his body, form a living sun
in which he dwells, apparently far beyond everything
else, but conscious of everything, therefore omniscient,
and so omnipotent; above space and time, by which he
cannot be confined, for they would limit the infinite.
Consider our own thoughts; are they not superior to
both space and time? Witness Rosalind's pretty riddle
to Orlando: "I will tell you who time ambles withal;
who time trots withal ; who time gallops withal, and
who he stands still withal."
Being the source of all power, he is omnipotent, but
not absolutely so, as formerly believed ; for he can do
nothing contrary to his own order, consequently cannot
do evil, cannot form anything hurtful, nor be angry, as
THE OPEN COURT.
375
is the case with finite, and therefore necessarily imper-
fect creatures.
The emanations from this living sun are exactly an-
alagous to the emanations from our own sun ; that is,
they consist of heat and light, of atmospheres and of a
world of objects, created from substances at one time
atmospherical, and still pervaded by those atmospheres,
by which forces are distributed as in their proper media;
just as in this world our planet is formed of substances
at one time fluid or gaseous in and around the sun, and
still pervaded bv such atmospheres, whose vibrations
and changing densities bring us heat, light and other
forces.
The world that was created from the spiritual sun
was a spiritual world, ready for the habitation of men
yet to be formed ; for no superior beings exist, no angel
lives who was not once a man, woman, or child on this
or some other planet. But this digresses. To return to
the consideration of creation in its order: The substances
of the dead, material suns were formed at the same time
and from the same spiritual atmospheres as the objects
of the spiritual world, and these first-formed material
substances, by their mutual attractions, contractions and
combustions, continually kept active bv the influences of
the spiritual sun, formed each its own system of planets,
which, revolving in widening orbits, are receding from
their central body, perhaps one day to be used up and
scattered, their particles going to form other suns and
systems, for matter is indestructible, and creation must
forever go on.
Having reached a reactionary basis in the rocks and
sands of the lower worlds, the Lord began to introduce
new life by a more direct way; for the introduction of
life was not entrusted to a dead sun, only the care of it
for a season. All creation has man and his eternal wel-
fare as an object, and man is only distinguished from
lower forms by his ability to know and co-operate with
his Maker, by means of the rationality and free-will,
which he feels within himself; the earliest men had no
spoken language; no outward sign of separation from
the lower animals.
The many series of living forms all bear some relation
to man and resemble him in some one or more of his men-
tal and physical qualities; hence, the resemblances that
have been attributed to self-evolution, as if each little
polyp, plant or animal was wise enough itself to determine
what it needed, and alter its whole structure accordingly.
If, for instance, the flesh-eating flowers of Borneo " know
enough" to imitate the smell and looks of raw meat to at-
tract their pre}', is it not strange that they went so far in
that direction and did not improve by originating self-
motion, which perhaps could have been done more simply ?
The fact is, we so seldom use the only powers that distin-
guish us from animals and plants that we are often at a
loss where to draw the line between will and its blind
images in our own lower life and in the life of the lower
forms.
Evil came into this world by man's own abuse of his
essential qualities, liberty and rationality, and his conse-
quent rejection of the Divine, and exaltation of self and
the world in His place; whereupon, the Lord, in tender
mercy, permitted the formation of hell, where evil souls
(for the souls of men retain all their vital characteris-
tics, and men and women live as men and women after
death in the spiritual world before spoken of) can " enjoy
life," as Bill Nye would say, " in their poor way," apart
from the direct influence of the Lord, who is not respon-
sible for their self inflicted misery, any more than the
sun is responsible for the poisonous saps that grow under
his beams. The Lord did not create such poisonous and
hurtful forms, but they have risen as an ultimation of the
evil states of hell, which place will finally be reduced to
greater order, though like the order of a prison, con-
trasting with the free life of heaven (for which all men
were designed), as a frog- pond might contrast with a
forest of singing birds.
Man has the power while yet in this world, of choosing
how he will live, and establishing that life by habit;
after death he can change his habits no more, but will
forever go on in the direction he has chosen here; for in
that world there is no material foundation in which alone
the man can be radically changed, and in which alone
propagations can take place.
Forms of life in the spiritual world other than man,
are created instantly by the Lord from the atmospheres,
etc., as they were at first created on this world, though
now they increase by germination and procreation.
Having skimmed the field so far, space fails and no
more can be said than to refer the reader to the writings
of the New Church given to the world by the Lord
Tesus Christ, the very Divine Man Himself, by means
of his servant Emanuel Swedenborg.
There the inquirer will find full light on the nature
of the two worlds and their respective suns, the consti-
tution of the human mind, the relations and compari-
sons of human and animal life, including the new
doctrine of discrete degrees, by which the several steps
of life are graded as higher and lower, not as greater
and less; all this and much more will be unfolded to the
mind that inquires and studies in the right spirit.
"Thought from the eye shuts the understanding,
but thought from the understanding opens the eye."
(Swedenborg.)
To Skepticism we owe that spirit of inquiry which, during
the last two centuries, has gradually encroached on every possible
subject, has reformed every department of practical and specula-
tive knowledge, has weakened the authority of the privileged
classes, and thus placed liberty on a surer foundation, has chas-
tised the despotism of princes, has restrained the arrogance of the
nobles, and has even diminished the prejudices of the clergy. —
Thomas Henry Buckle.
376
THE OPEN COURT.
The Open Court.
A. Fortnightly Journal.
Published every other Thursday at i6g to 175 La Salle Street (Nixot
Building), corner Monroe Street, by
THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY
B. F. UNDERWOOD,
Editor and Manager.
SARA A. UNDERWOOD,
Associate Editor.
The leading object of The Open Court is to continue
the work of The Index, that is, to establish religion on the
basis of Science and in connection therewith it will present the
Monistic philosophy. The founder of this journal believes this
will furnish to others what it has to him, a religion which
embraces all that is true and good in the religion that was taught
in childhood to them and him.
Editorially, Monism and Agnosticism, so variously defined,
will be treated not as antagonistic systems, but as positive and
negative aspects of the one and only rational scientific philosophy,
which, the editors hold, includes elements of truth common to
all religions, without implying either the validity of theological
assumption, or any limitations of possible knowledge, except such
as the conditions of human thought impose.
The Open Court, while advocating morals and rational
religious thought on the firm basis of Science, will aim to substi-
tute for unquestioning credulity intelligent inquiry, for blind faith
rational religious views, for unreasoning bigotry a liberal spirit,
tor sectarianism a broad and generous humanitarianism. With
this end in view, this journal will submit all opinion to the crucial
test of reason, encouraging the independent discussion by able
thinkers ot the great moral, religious, social and philosophical
problems which are engaging the attention of thoughtful minds
and upon the solution of which depend largely the highest inter-
ests of mankind.
While Contributors are expected to express freely their own
views, the Editors are responsible only for editorial matter.
Terms of subscription three dollars per year in advance,
postpaid to any part of the United States, and "three dollars and
fifty cents to foreign countries comprised in the postal union.
All communications intended for and all business letters
relating to The Open Court should be addressed to B. F.
Underwood, Treasurer, P. O. Drawer F, Chicago, 111., to whom
should be made payable checks, postal orders and express orders.
THURSDAY, AUGUST 18, 1887.
MONISM AND MONISTIC THINKERS.
Monism— from the Greek monos, single, alone — is
the philosophical conception that all phenomena have a
common source, and that one ultimate principle under-
lies them all. This conception is presented in distinc-
tion especially to the various forms of dualism — such, for
instance, as that of Descartes, who assumed an extended
substance devoid of thought, and an unextended think-
ing substance — and in opposition to all systems which
have recourse to a plurality of principles to explain
mental and physical phenomena.
There are many different conceptions of monism, all
agreeing, however, in the single-principle theory as
opposed to dualism. Several of these monistic concep-
tions were referred to by Dr. Edmund Montgomery in
a series of articles printed in the first three numbers of
this journal. There is the monism of .Spinoza, " the
monism of substantiality," which identifies God and
nature in an absolute substance that possesses, with many
attributes unknown to us, both thought and extension:
the monism of Schelling, " a monistic system of trans-
cendental realism ;" Hartman's " monism of unconscious
transcendental Will, logically evolving the world ; "
Hegel's "monism of self-evolving logical reason, of the
formal deductive sort;" "a spiritual monism which gen-
erally goes by the name of Transcendental Idealism ;"
the monism of Herbert Spencer, which sees in mental
and physical phenomena but different modes of an abso-
lute inscrutable Power; the mechanical monism of
Haeckel, according to which every atom is eternal and
has " sensation and volition, pleasure and pain, desire
and aversion, attraction and repulsion," which properties
aggregating parallel to combinations of material parti-
cles form complex souls, even the souls of men; the
" psycho-physical monism " of Lewes, according to
which consciousness is the subjective aspect of the same
fact of which brain motion is the objective aspect; the
monism of Bain, who holds that physical and mental
phenomena are the properties of one substance — " a
double-faced unity." We have seen quoted by Mr.
Hegeler, as expressive in a general way of his monistic
position, the pantheistic words of Paul on Mars' hill:
" For in Him we live and move and have our being "
(Acts xvii. 28). Monotheism may fairly be regarded as
a religious form of monism.
That all these different theories of monism can be
true is, of course, impossible; that they are all even
logically consistent is improbable; that any one of them
contains the entire truth is extremely unlikely ; that the)'
all contain certain aspects or hints of the truth which,
fused into a synthesis with errors eliminated, would
afford a better explanation of phenomena than an)- of
them singly can give, is reasonably certain.
On another page may be found a number of passages
which we have extracted from the writings of monistic
thinkers. Our own monistic position, which we have
been requested to state, we now give in a few words:
There is no chance, no caprice in the operations of
nature. Every motion has a speed, direction and des-
tiny predetermined by its condition and the nature of
things. Such is the regularity of occurrences in the
physical world that in those groups of phenomena which
we have been able carefully to observe and study, as in
astronomy, we can predict events long before they hap-
pen. All phenomena are connected and dependent, and
all are subject to causation; there is no event without an
antecedent, no effect without a cause; in the succession
of phenomena the thread of continuity is unbroken and
the condition of any given time is the outgrowth and
product of all pre-existent times. The farthest stars are
connected with our planet, and the remotest ages are
related to the present. Evolution and involution (dis-
solution) are waves of a shoreless ocean that belongs
equally to the beginningless past and to the endless future.
Every form of matter is the product of the modification
THE OPEN COURT.
377
of previous forms. Every form of force is a manifestation
of the universal immanent force
"Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,
And the round ocean and the living air.
And the blue sky, and in the mind of man :
A motion and a spirit that impels
All thinking beings, all objects of all thought
And rolls through all things."
Mental phenomena are no more exempt from causa-
tion than are material phenomena, and if we were able
to see the contents and condition of any mind and to
calculate the forces which would operate upon it, we
should be able to foresee its action with as much cer-
tainty as we can predict the velocity of a falling body.
Mind implies organism and environment. We can
have no conception of mind without matter, and no con-
ception of matter without mind, for the very qualities
which we ascribe to objects — color, fragrance, hardness,
weight, resistance, etc. — are but so many different names
for ways in which we are consciously affected. Says Dr.
Ewald Hering: "Materialism explains consciousness as
a result of matter; idealism takes the opposite view, and
from a third position one might propound the identity
of spirit and matter." We hold to the monistic view
that mental and physical phenomena are manifestations
of the same reality, and that, as Haeckel observes, " the
whole knowable universe forms one undivided whole, a
' monon,' and that spirit exists everywhere in nature,
and we know of no spirit outside of nature."
Says Prof. F. Max Midler, in his lecture concluded
in this number of The Open Court: "Matter and
spirit are correlative, but they are not interchangeable
terms. In the true sense, spirit is a name for the univer-
sal subject, matter for the universal object. And as there
can be no subject without an object, nor an object without
a subject, neither can there be, within a narrower sphere,
spirit without matter, nor matter without spirit. Matter is
determined by us quite as much as we are determined by
matter. As we have made and defined the two words and
concepts, matter and spirit, they are now inseparable; and
the two systems of philosophy, materialism and spirit-
ualism, have no sense by themselves, but will have to be
merged in the higher system of idealism." (In a system
of monistic realism we should say.)
To those who insist that we must think of the uni-
versal power as a personality, we reply in the words of
Tyndall: "When I attempt to give the power which is
manifested in the universe an objective form, personal
or otherwise, it slips away from- me, declining all manip-
ulation. I dare not, save poetically, use the pronoun
'He' regarding it; I dare not call it 'Mind;' I refuse to
call it even a ' Cause.' Its mystery overshadows, but
it remains a mystery, while the subjective frames which
my neighbors try to make it fit simply distoit and dese-
crate it." "Belief in the personality of God is a 'theo-
logic cramp,'" says Emerson. "A personal God is not
thinkable consistently with philosophical ideas," observes
Fichte. "The idea of a personal God is pure myth-
ology," says Schleiermacher. "Alas!" exclaims Goethe,
"for the creed whose God lives out»ide of the universe,
and lets it spin round His finger. The universal spirit
dwells within and not without."
"The universal spirit" or universal immanent force
is the sum total of Natures capacities and powers, which
though divided like the billows are united like the sea,
constituting from everlasting to everlasting an unbroken
unity, while producing that variety of form and mani-
festation among which is personality — a phenomenon
so complex and in which there are such concentration
and intensity of force as to make it unique, and to seem
in its fulness and strength to exist apart from the
natural order, as tho' it were detatche ', isolated, inde-
pendent, autonomous, giving rise to the belief that its
distinguishing characteristics are the essential attributes
of the universal source and basis of all activity. But
personality is connected, as science can demonstrate, by
countless invisible ties, to the universal order from which
it is never for a moment severed; and it is one of the
modes, the highest known to us, of the universal power
that manifests itself to us with such wonderful wealth
and diversity of form.
CONCERNING BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE.
To the Editors:
Would vou be kind enough to send me the names of a (ew
good books suitable for a little girl ten years old to read that are
instructive and entertaining without being religious. In using the
word religious, 1 mean in the general acceptance of the term. I
find it verv difficult to get children's books that do not treat
largelv about a personal God and immortality. Perhaps a list of
such books might be interesting to more than one mother tnat
reads The Open Cocrt. Yerv truly yours,
Mrs. C. H.
The above note asks a question which in various
forms is so often repeated by parents who are desirous
that their children should grow up free from any theo-
logical bias or prejudice that we very willingly give here
our views on the subject.
It is natural enough that parents who have them-
selves found difficulty, as they grew into a wider sphere
of thought, in emancipating their own minds from the
influence of false dogmas and narrow creeds imbibed in
vouth and enforced by the books they then read, should
object to allowing their children to begin life thus preju-
diced; but in this age of general diffusion of knowledge
and of steadily growing liberalism in the churches, and
out, it seems to us that this fear is in great part ground-
less.
But though we believe with Charles Lamb that in
a well selected library of standard works children should
be turned loose "to browse as they please among all its
treasures, secure to pass the evil without knowing it to
37*
THE OPEN COURT.
be evil, and to gain the incalculable good that comes
from familiarity with good books;" yet in these days
when books of all sorts come tumbling from the press
by tons, it would be a help for parents anxious to guide
their children in the direction of true knowledge and
the highest morality to have a list to which additions
could be frequently made, of the books which would
be of the most help to young readers in these direc-
tions.
In one of the magazines lately Rev. Edward Eg-
gleston gave a list of the books which had been most
helpful to him. We did not see the article, but have
read various criticisms of his taste and judgment because
of the character of some of those aids. These criti-
cisms could not but be unjust, for in reading as in eat-
ing it is quite as true that "what is one man's meat is
another's poison." Lessons might be gained for Mr. Eg-
gleston from books which might be hurtful to the morals
of a Sam Jones and insipid or worthless to the mind of
an Emerson. Thus it is very difficult for even the
wisest parent to guide unerringly the literary tastes of
his children, and the wiser the parent the less would he
hope to do so. But it still is wise to place before the
developing intellect invitations to growth by the choice
of the best in all good directions. That is the utmost
that should be done.
Except in books directly intended for orthodox
Sunday-school use, there is comparatively little that
has a decidedly theological tendency in these days of
growing liberalism. Since the note which we print
was received we have looked carefully through the
contents of three magazines for youth for the cur-
rent month, Wide-Awake, St. Nicholas and Treasure
Trove, and can find nothing directly theological in any
of them, and stranger still, no direct reference even to
God and immortality, save in some few verses. Writers
like Charles Egbert Craddock, Louise Imogen Guiney,
H. H. Boyesen, Frank R. Stockton, Palmer Cox, Mar-
garet Sydney, Lizzie Champney, Elbridge S. Brooks,
Sarah K. Bolton, Rev. Edward A. Rand, Edward
Everett Hale and many others, give lessons in courage,
in truth, in history, in art, in medicine, in helpful work
and healthful play, without bringing in any reference to
creed, dogma, or orthodox religion. For ourselves, we
would by no means choose to keep children in ignorance
of creeds or dogmas. The harm done by them has
been in limiting the study of these by orthodox parents
to each parent's particular creed and church tenets.
Ignorance is always harmful. The child who does not
know what creeds are is unprepared to pass judgement
as to their truth or untruth, nor will a spirit of mere
contempt for creeds be shown by anv unbelieving
parent who has come to his unbelief in the course of
his search after truth, for, as Mrs. Oakes-Smith, in her
poem, "The Creedman," beautifully shows, creeds have
done their necessary part in the evolution of man's
intellect and morals. So let the children read freely —
while taught to use their reason in so doing — that they
may be prepared to think clearly and without prejudice.
So only can their minds grow symmetrical in wisdom
and their thought develop harmoniously.
The genius of the very best writers in all depart-
ments for grown people is now-a-days enlisted for the
benefit of the rising generation. The question with the
parent of to-day is not " Where can I find suitable read-
ing?" but " What shall I choose from this over-abund-
ance?" If we were to choose a small library for the
use of a child of ten or twelve years, our choice would
be somewhat as follows:
In history, Dicken's Child's History of England,
Col. Higginson's Child's History of the United States,
and Edward Clodd's Childhood of the World- in biog-
raphy, Plutarch 's Lives, Barton's Captains of Industry,
Sarah K. Bolton's Girls Who Became Famous, and
Eldredge S. Brooks and Miss Jane Andrews' series of
short biographical sketches for young readers; in
travel, Livingstone, Stanley, Du Chaillu, Horace Scud-
der's Bodley books, Louise Alcott's Shawl Straps, and
Edward Everett Hale's various Family FligJits through
different countries, are all delightful reading; in science,
R. A. Proctor's Light Science for Leisure Hours,
Arabella Buckley's series of Science Studies, Mary
Treat's Home Studies in Nature, Felix Oswald's zoo-
logical sketches, Trench On the Study of Words, and
the Appleton's series of Science Primers; in fiction,
Louise Alcott's Old Fashioned Girl, Little Men and
Little Women, Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland,
Anstey's Vice T'ersa, Jules Verne's Around the Afoon
and 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, Charles Kingsley's
Water Babies, Dicken's David Copperfield, Dombey <&
Son, Old Curiosity Shop, Christmas Carols and
Nicholas Nicklcby, George Eliot's Mill on the Floss,
Frances H. Burnett's Little Lord Fauntleroy and
Fredrika Bremer's Home and Tlie Neighbors; in
poetry, Wordsworth, Longfellow, Whittier and Bryant.
To these we would add Ruskin's Sesame and Lilies and
Ethics of the Dust, Charles and Mary Lamb's Tales
from Shakespeare, the Grimm brothers' Fairy 7^ales,
Hans Christian Andersen's works, and even such old
books as ^Esofis Fables, Gulliver's Travels, Robinson
Crusoe, The Arabian Nights'1 Entertainment and Pil-
ofinis Progress.
Children are usually thorough realists and like books
of action which convey truths by example, rather than
didactic works which bore them by wearisome preach-
ing. In the above incomplete list we have aimed only
to give a few hints to those who, like our correspondent,
have probably no time to search for themselves for such
literature as they prefer their children to read.
s. a. u.
THE OPEN COURT.
379
BRAINS AND SEX.
The incidental mention of relative and absolute brain
weights and sizes of the sexes, by an author in the
Popular Science Monthly last April, brought out a
rather peppery reply and a rejoinder in succeeding num-
bers.* Correlative articles made a timely appearance
in the July issue.f
Time honored post-mortem statistics were cited and
sneered at, but the verv evident fact was maintained that
the average female brain weight was less than that of
the male.
The worst error was made by Dr. Hammond, who
stated that "the head of a boy or girl does not grow in
size after the seventh year; so that the hat that is worn
at that age can be worn just as well at thirty." How
the doctor could have made such a blunder is incon-
ceivable. He reconsidered the matter and substituted
brain for head, but that could not dispose of the hat
preposterousness.
The main points brought out are as follows:
The brain of the child is larger in proportion to its
body than is that of the adult, but immaturity should
prevent too many studies being undertaken in youth.
The men and women who have made the most of
themselves are those who have began to study hard
after they have reached adult life.
The skull of the human male is of greater capacity
than that of the female, and civilization increases the
difference. The average male brain weighs a little over
forty-nine ounces, the female a little over forty-four
ounces, or about five ounces less. The proportion being
100:90.
Relatively to the weight of the bedy the difference
is in favor of women. The body of the female is shorter
and weighs less than that of the male. Thus in man
the weight of the brain to that of the body average as
1 :36.50, while in women it is as 1 :^6-[6, a difference of
.04 in her favor.
A large brain may have its gray cortical substance
thinner than a smaller brain.
In man the frontal lobe, separated from the posterior
portion by the " fissure of Rolando," affords 43.9 per
cent, of the total brain length in the male, 31.3 per cent,
in the female.
The specific gravity is greater in male than female
brains, but this increases in insanity and old age in both
sexes. The doctor makes a fair allusion to the mental
differences of the sexes, based upon the foregoing, but
his critic construes his remarks into implying female
incapacity and inferiority. She quotes Topinard to the
♦"Brain Forcing in Childhood," by Win. A. Hammond, M. D. ; " Sex and
Brain Weight," by Helen H. Gardener; "Men's and Women's Brains, an
answer to Miss Helen H. Gardener and the ' Twenty of the Leading Brain
Anatomists, Microscopists and Physicians of New York,' " by Wm. A. Ham-
mond, M. D.
t" Human Brain Weights," by Joseph Simms, M. D. ; " Mental Differ-
ences of Men and Women," by George J. Romanes.
effect that " the brain increases with the use we make
of it."
Dr. Hammond defends his position by asserting that
the mental differences of the sexes are due to women not
having availed themselves of the advantages offered
them by civilization. He does not deny that there are
some female brains of superior weight and that some
woman have excelled, mentally, but as a rule he holds
that women are logically defective.
Romanes alleges for women a comparative absence
of originality, particularly in the higher levels of intel-
lectual work, but there is no disparity in powers of
acquisition after adolescence; young girls being more
acquisitive than bovs of the same age. After develop-
ment the male has the greater power of amassing knowl-
edge. Woman's information is less wide and deep and
thorough than that of a man. In musical execution he
concedes equality. The female lacks judgment and
impartiality but is more refined in her sense faculties,
her perceptions are more rapid, thoughts swifter, but
superficial. Her will control is less, her temper is
unstable and emotions shallow. Coyness, caprice,
vanity, love of display and admiration, for pageants,
society and even "scenes," characterize her. Romanes
concurs with Lecky : "In the courage of endurance
females are superior, but their passive courage is not so
much fortitude which bears and defies, as resignation
which bears and bends. They rarely love truth, though
they adore what they call 'the truth,' or opinions
derived from others, and hate vehemently those who dif-
fer from them. Their thinking is a mode of feeling, they
are generous but not in opinion. They persuade rather
than convince and value belief as a source of consolation
rather than as a faithful expression of the reality of
things."
Romanes attributes all this to their not having
enjoyed the same educational advantages as men, and
accords women preeminence in affection, sympathy,
devotion, self-denial, modesty, long-suffering, reverence,
religious feeling and morality. Feminine taste is good
in small matters but untrustworthy where intellectual
judgment is required. He attributes much to the coarser
nature of man suppressing female chances for equality,
and holds that the coyness, caprice and allied weaknesses
and petty deceits are acquired and inherited self-defense
traits, intensified by natural and sexual selection.
We have room only to indicate some important
matters that were wholly neglected or but merely
hinted at by The Popular Science Monthly writers.
The processes of development known as embryology
alone settle the matter of sex differentiation, and pro-
claim woman to be a very highly organized being —
exquisitely adjusted to an important life relation, that
dominates her intellectually as well as physically, afford-
ing her the advantage of mental refinements and the
3 So
THE OPEN COURT.
disadvantage of physical inferiority. In the offspring there
is a fusion of advantageous traits that at first belong- to
both sexes unequally; acquired beauties of form or char-
acter that sexual selection perpetuates and perfects.
The mental and physical superiority of the average male
needs the amiable governance of the female disposition.
This is most apparent in mining countries where males
preponderate and unconsciously grow coarse in their
manners and ways of thinking.
The microscope has transferred the conception of
degrees of intelligence from gross to finer morphology.
Mere brain weight counts for nothing, except for the
crudest generalizations. Of more consequence are the
relative quantities of white and gray matter in brains,
the associating nerve bundles, that pass in showers of
minute telegraph lines between brain parts, and of equal,
if not transcendent, importance, the disposition and
development of the blood vessels. Also given two
brains exactly alike a difference in the heart's ability to
supply blood to the brain will determine stupidity in
one and intellect in the other. Intelligence depends
more upon the quantitative relating fibers of parts of
the brain than upon weights, and a forty-ounce brain
may have a more intricate microscopic development than
one that weighs fifty ounces.
The normal brain exists in ratios related to muscular
development and the brain weighing methods fully
demonstrate that woman is the equal of man in this par-
ticular; that is, in proportion to physical development
there is no difference in the associated brain quantity in
the sexes.
New avenues are opening up to women and decades
change our views concerning women's capacities. Let
there be the fullest chance for her development. She
cannot surpass in certain matters, but let opportunity
and not a priori prejudice settle what she can and can-
not do. It is idle to fear that she will become the intel-
lectual and physical monster of Bulwer's Coming
Race. There are physiological reasons that set limits
for both sexes.
The subject is exhaustless and we reluctantly leave
much that we wished to dilate upon unsaid. Tenny-
son's verse appropriately helps our closing:
"The woman's cause is man's! they rise or sink
Together, dwarfed or godlike, bond or free.
*****
" For woman is not undeveloped man,
But diverse: could we make her as the man,
Sueet Love were slain: his dearest bond is this,
Not like to like, but like in difference.
Yet in the long years liker must they grow;
The man be more of woman, she of man ;
He gain in sweetness and in moral height,
Nor lose the wrestling thews that throw the world;
She mental breadth, nor fail in childward care,
Nor lose the childlike in the larger mind;
Till at the last she set herself to man,
Like perfect music unto noble words."
Prof. Albert Reville, from whose pen a paper on
the question of "Separation of Church and Sate" in
France, is commenced in this number of The Open
Court, was born in Dieppe, France, November 4,
1S26. He became a leading minister of the French
Protestant Church at Nimes and Luneray, and in 1S51
pastor of the Walloon church at Rotterdam, Holland.
He is author of De la Redemption (1859), Essais
dc Critique Religieuse (i860), Eudes Critiques Sur
F Evangile Selcn S. A/atthieu (1S62), La Vie de Jesus
de i\I. Renan devant les Orthodoxes et devant le Cri-
tique (i S63), Notre Christ ianisme et Notre Bon Droit
(1^64), Historire du Dogtne dc la Divinite de Jesus
Christ (1S69), and author of several volumes of sermons
and many essays in theological reviews and numerous
translations of religious works from the English and the
German. He now fills the chair of the History of Re-
ligions at the College de France, Paris. In obtaining an
article for this journal from the distinguished French
scholar we are largely indebted to the personal influence
and effort of our contributor, Theodore Stanton, through
whom the article came to us accompanied with a note
from Professor Reville, which reads as follows:
To Mr. Sttrutou, fellow-laborer in Open Court :
Dear Sir — In your drawing-room, not far from the Champs
Elysees, where you had gathered together a brilliant and charm-
ing party, you did me the honor to solicit from me, for The Open
Court, an article on the separation of Church and State as con-
nected with the actual condition of France. I now fulfill the
promise that I then made you, offering at the same time an
apology for the delay — with which you would have a right to re-
proach me. But latterly I have been altogether absorbed bv the
lectures that I was delivering at the College of France on the an-
tique Roman religion, and by the course that I was giving at the
Sorbonne on the history of Christian dogmas.
* * *
The following passage from a recent letter of Mrs.
Elizabeth Cady Stanton to the editors of The Open
Court, will be read with interest by those admirers of
George Eliot who have been interested in the discus-
sion as to the influence of her marriage to George Henry
Lewes upon her life and writings. Mrs. Stanton writes:
"I dined last even.ng at John Chapman's, editor of The
Westminster Review. He handed me cut to dinner,
and I had the post of honor at his right hand which gave
me the opportunity of a long talk with him. Among
other things I asked him about George Eliot, as she was
two years in his family. As it is a disputed point
whether Lewes was a help or a hindrance to her, I
asked his opinion. He said that he (Lewes) was an
inestimable blessing to her as his devotion was chival-
rous and sincere; that he helped her in every way and
shielded her from many adverse winds. He said she
was a highly emotional woman, strong in her feelings
and needed love; hence her relations with both her hus
bands were natural and necessary to her well-being."
This testimonv accords with that given so abundantly
THE OPEN COURT.
3S1
in George Eliot's own letters and in the inscriptions
made by her on successive MSS. of her writings, as
when she says, " I am very happy — happy in the high-
est blessing life can give us, the perfect love and sym-
pathy of a nature that stimulates my own to healthful
activity." " Mr. Lewes sends his kind regards to you.
He too, was very pleased with your letter, for he cares
more about getting approbation for me than for him-
self. He can do very well without it." " Mr. Lewes
makes a martyr of himself in writing all my notes and
business letters. Is not that being a sublime husband?
For, all the while there are studies of his own being put
aside — studies which are a seventh heaven to him."
The MS. of "Adam Bede" bears the following inscrip-
tion: "To my dear husband, George Henry Lewes, I give
the MS. of a work which would never have been writ-
ten but for the happiness which his love has conferred
on my life."
have wealth it will be applied to noble ends, to better
the condition of his fellows; if genius, the same ends.
Even poverty can be invested with beauties, and it cer-
tainly has advantages, which are set forth by masterly
pens to aid multitudes to rise above continual discontent.
The world needs a new crop of writers who will, with-
out the cant and churchly platitudes of the last century ,
put forth the unparalleled happiness of plain virtue
and honest}'. It is not because there is a positive dis-
relish for this kind of writing, that there are so few
successful books of this kind, so much as because of the
jaundiced, whining "goody-good" way in which they
are written. Let Mr. Haggard, with his undoubted
ability, play a trick upon his readers that they will
never forget but readily forgive, by taking for his hero
one who has an object in life worthy of the man and the
times. Or in other words, tell of a man, and not of
apes who fight for lust and cocoanuts.
In the next number we shall begin the publication
of a series of articles on Monistic Mental Science, by
Dr. S. V. Clevenger, and regret that the first of the
series was crowded out of this issue. It will be a popu-
lar presentation based upon fifteen years' stud}' of
nervous and mental phenomena in their biological rela-
tions. Wm. W. Ireland, M. D. (Edin.), formerly of
Her Majesty's Indian Army, in his recently published
book The Blot on the Brain, Studies in History and
Psychology, page 237, quoting Dr. Clevenger, on con-
sciousness, says: " The evolution of consciousness in the
animal kingdom is well treated in Dr. Clevenger's
Comparative Physiology and Psychology, Chicago,
1SS5, Chap. XII. This is a very able and thoughtful
book." Other competent reviewers have been equally
laudatory.
3fc %: =/f *
The popular novel may usually be taken into con-
sideration in estimating the average taste. People who
are too busy to read a page of any standard, thoughtful
work, find abundance of time to wade through Hag-
gard's stories or similar nonsense. The terra incognita1-
■" which is always a terrible country," may be peopled
and equipped by the wonder pandering author, to the
heart's content. Africa may be made to contain the
"secret of life," the fountain of youth, the philoso-
pher's stone, the mines of Solomon, giants, dwarfs, any-
thing you please. Jules Verne takes advantage of curi-
osity and wonder adroitly to teach his readers what in
the end they are better off for knowing; but novelists
of the Haggard order make wealth, and incidentally, the
possession of a lovely female the only desiderata. It is
a prostitution of talents to cater to vulgar ideas of life
in this manner. The high order of writers will strive
to make you think that sensuous pleasures are not the only
things in the world worth striving for. If their hero
The last of Professor F. Max Midler's lectures on
"The Science of Thought," given at the Royal Insti-
tution, London, last March, is concluded in this number
of The Open Court. Some additional notes received
lately from the author will be printed in our next issue.
These valuable lectures, which this journal was very
fortunate (with the influence and aid of Mr. Moncure
D. Conwav) in securing for its columns, will soon be
issued by The Open Court Publishing Company in a
handsome pamphlet.
* # *
Rev. Phillips Brooks, of Boston, in the Princeton
Review suggests to a surprised profession that ministers
should learn something of what they t ilk about. He
thinks that there has been altogether too much sneering
at the theory of evolution by preachers whose only idea
of that theory is that it claims man to have descended
from a monkey. He tells them that as congregations
grow better informed they will drop away from ranters
who will not study up the living issues of the day.
CONCLUSION.
BV J. F. D.
What then am I to do?
Simply to live the life that's given me to-day.
Wholly to cast myself into the present hour.
Wherever duty calls, or human suffering waits for will-
ing hands:
And to the unknown future leave the rest —
So will I pass life's journey through.
And coming to the end of this, my earthly stay,
Where'er I may,
Know ever I have done my best,
Kept my heart clean and used my utmost power.
So made my memory dear to kindred souls, and blest
throughout all lands.
382
THE OPEN COURT.
THROUGH WHAT HISTORICAL CHANNELS DID'
BUDDHISM INFLUENCE EARLY
CHRISTIANITY?
BY GENERAL J. G. R. FORLONG, AUTHOR OF "RIVERS OF LIFE."
Part I.
For many years past this has been a question which
literary and scientific thinkers have felt ought to be
answered. Those of them who are not trammeled by
their surroundings have for the most part felt convinced
that there has been a close connection, and that the
younger Western sister has borrowed many of the ideas
and some of the legends and parables of the older East-
ern brother; whilst the scientific evolutionist, who can
neither find a first man, first rose, nor first anything, has
stood apart silently scouting the idea of a first faith
either of Jew or Gentile, Buddhist or Christian. To
such an one the prophet or reformer, be he Buddha,
Mahamad or Luther, is but the apex or figure-head of a
pyramid the foundations of which were laid long before
his birth. The reformer contributed, indeed, to the
beauty and symmetry of what may have then appeared
a formless structure, and made it useful to his fellows;
but even he himself may be called an evolution of the
growths around him— a necessity of the times, and a
force which would have been produced had he never
been born. Circumstances but led up to the production
of a suitable nature to work out a mayhap inscrutable
and eternal law. Such a theory of evolution argues for
a Buddhism before Buddha and Christianity before
Christ, and to this the sage of Buddha Gaya agreed in
regard to himself, when he said he " was only the fourth
Tathagata."
Many scholars are now of opinion that from North-
ern India to trans-Oxiana, in the lone mountain caves,
especially of Afghanistan and Kashmir, and in the
passes leading therefrom (like the Bamian and others
into Baktria ), as well as in Balk and other important
cities, the precepts and practices familiar to us as of the
essence of Buddhism were well known to the Asiatic
world. These were, it is believed, promulgated there by
the third Buddha, Kasyapa, and his followers some one
thousand years before the royal Brahman heretic of
Kapila Vasta arose to combat priestcraft ami the agnos-
tic heresies of the Sankhya philosophic schools, then —
in the seventh century B.C. — led by the Rishi Kapila.
Yet the ultra-evolutionist, as well as most students of
history and religions, have long felt, as Professor Max
Midler expressed himself three years ago, that "we
should be extremely grateful to anybody who would
point out the historical channels through which Bud-
dhism had influenced early Christianity."*
My own researches, extending over many years, had
long made it quite clear to me that the advance of Bud-
dhist thought westward prior to the teaching of Christ
• * India: What Can It Teach Us? P. 279.
and rise of Christian literature — and how much more so-
before 170 A.c, the date when, according to many
learned critics, we have first cognizance of the Gospels
— was sufficiently and historically plain, and I put the
subject aside, assured that some specialists less busy and
more competent than myself would attend to it. But a
literary friend, looking over some of my own researches
in connection with a polyglot Dictionary of Compara-
tive Religions, has begged me to place some of the evi-
dence and conclusions at once before the public as of
pressing importance at this moment; and I will now try-
to do so as far as the limits of a popular review admit.
Sir William Jones, although no longer a good author-
ity in these days of maturer knowledge, came to the
conclusion, after a long course of original research in the
sacred writings of India, that "the Sramans or Buddhist
monks of India and Egypt must have met together and
instructed each other," and this is metaphorically still to
some extent the conclusions of many scholars; but scien-
tific thought demands that we produce our proofs, or
very close and conclusive evidence of the early western
march of Buddhism.
We premise that our readers have somewhat studied
the history of Buddhism; that they know it is about
twenty-six centuries since the groves of Buddha Gaya
and woodland colleges of Nalanda sent forth a new gos-
pel of work for our fellows of doing good without
seeking reward here or hereafter — and that India and
trans-India followed and upheld the teacher for over
twelve hundred years; and that still about one-third of
the human race profess to do so; that too many revere
him as a god, mixing up the first high and pure teaching
of their faith with all the varied old and new doctrines,
rites and follies peculiar to each race and land which
adopted it.
Every religion has had to submit to this ordeal, and
the greater its ethical purity and want of forms, rituals
and ceremonies, so much the more have the busy multi-
tude sought to frame and fall back on some tangible
symbolism without which they do not feel that they have
a veritable piety. Millions of Buddhists believe that
" their Lord will come again to redeem His people,"
appearing as Maitri, like the tenth Hindu Avatara, the
" Kalki," who, as a "Lord of Light," riding a milk-
white steed and wielding a golden scimitar, is then to-
overthrow all enemies and efface evil and unbelief.
History tells us that Gotama, the Buddha, the son
of a King of Oudh, was born about 623, and died in
543 B.C., though these dates are disputed to some tiifling
extent — here of no consequence. We will assume that
he died in 500 B.C., at Kusa Nagara, not far from his
birthplace full of years and honors.
All nations, says the Rev. Dr. Eitel, of China,
" have drank more or less of his sweet poison," and
especially men of learning and philosophy — nay, even
THE OPEN COURT.
383
the Christian missionaries themselves according to Sir
E. Reid's "Japan" (see i. 70 et sa/.); where this author
details the close similitudes existing between Buddhist
and Christian parables, miracles and legends, and the
Essenic doctrines of the Jordan. It is on account of
this parallelism that students have sought such confirm-
atory evidence as history affords of the westward
approach of early Buddhism, and of that last Buddhist
wave which, in 250 B.C., surged from its centre — the
capital of the Magadha empire of the Ganges — in the
proselytising reign of the good and pious Asoka, the
so-called "Buddhist Constantine," but who, says the
Rev. Isaac Taylor, is scandalized by such a comparison.
("Alphabet," ii. 293.)
For some 300 years before this the faith of " Sakya
the Muni" had been diligently and kindly pressed upon
the people of India and all the valleys of Kashmir and
Afghanistan by argument, precept and example; for
Gotama Buddha was a quiet evangelist, desiring to
reform the corrupt faiths of his country after having
first reformed himself by study and meditation for many
years in the sequestered forests of Raja Griha- — a prac-
tice we see followed by Pythagoras (perhaps a Butha-
guru) and other reformers like Apollonius of Tyana.
The Brahmans merely looked on Buddha as the
establisher of a new monastic order; and when he told
his early disciples that he was going to renounce idle
meditation and prayer, and go forth into the busy world
to preach a gospel of good works, they forsook him and
fled. Brahmans eventually considered his life and
teaching to be so good that they claimed and still
acknowledge him as the ninth incarnation of their solar
god. They did not look upon him as driving all men
into a lazy life in monasteries; but regarded his teach-
ing as we do Christ's — that if we are willing and able,
we may "sell all and follow the Lord." Brahmanism
only rejected Buddha because he refused to assert what
he did not know, especially in regard to their animistic,
annihilation and transmigration doctrines. For reject-
ing these he was held to be as atheistic as the philosophic-
schools which he had risen to oppose.
Asoka, though a good Buddhist, was a believer in
" Isana, Brahma, or an ineffable spirit," confessing this
in his Lat and Rock inscriptions, so that we may term
him and most of his pious followers Stoics. We see
that he was acquainted with the leading current phases
of Western thought, and apparently with Zenon and
other leaders.
Asoka was a highly religious man, and very zealous
in propagating his faith, using with this object all his
manifold opportunities as the head of a great empire,
and all the influence which this gave him with foreign
powers, ambassadors and literary foreigners.
On one of his Lats he inscribed — " Without extreme
zeal for religion, happiness in this world and the next is
difficult to procure. * * * All government must
be guided by religion, and law ruled by it. Progress is
only possible by religion, and in it must we find
security."
In another edict he defines religion as "consisting in
committing the least evil possible, in doing much good,
in practicing pity, charity, veracity, and in leading a
pure life."
These were his views when presiding over the third
great Buddhist Council of Patna, of about 309 is.c.
the second having met say most Buddhists in 443, con-
sidered to be the first centenary of " the Master's death."
The Padma Purana affirms that Buddhism is older
than Vedantism and anterior to the era of Aranyakas
and Upanishads, and that the wars described in the
Mahabharata were waged between Buddhists and Brah-
mans, and that this pre-Gotama Buddhism died out
about 900 B.C., in the time of Ripunjava of Magadha.
(See Dutfs India, and the Puranas he quotes.)
Other Puranas written about the time the Vedas
were codified, mention Buddha and the leading doctrines,
customs and ideas of Buddhism; and the Chinese pil-
grim Fa Hian says he found in 400 A.c. a Buddhist sect
who acknowledged only the teachings of the Buddhas
prior to Sakya Muni.
Nowhere did he find, nor do we to-day, that these
pre-Buddha prophets were denied or their teachings
rejected. On the contrary, Gotama's teaching is par-
ticularly esteemed as confirmatory of and emphasizing
that of the earlier Tathagatas. All are held to be alike
inspired by the first or Adi Buddha. Oxiana, with Balk
and Samarkand, appear to have been early centers of
this faith; and Sir H. Rawlinson points to some monu-
mental remains* of it in bricks, etc., see his remarks on
Kasyapa, the Buddha preceding Sakya Muni. We
are assured that Kasyapa's followers existed long prior
to the cave-dwelling Sacac, those Indo-Skythic propa-
gandists who before and after the time of Darius I.
dwelt in every mountain-pass where they could meet
and converse freely with travelers, and thus widely pro-
pagate their doctrines. Gradually the caves were
enlarged, so as to accommodate even five hundred listen-
ers, like some in the Bamian pass; and these, as well as
the " cave towns," are universally acknowledged to be
the work of Buddhists.
The Kasvapa-B»dd/i/sts whose remains the Chinese
pilgrims found in Balk, had as predecessors Konaga-
mana and Ka-ku-sandka, apparently zealous mission-
aries, coeval with the Jewish patriarchs, and, like them
four of twenty-four — suggestively solar in idea. There
is a considerable literature regarding these pre-Gotama
Buddhas, especially the third and second — " the son of
Jaina," and probably a Jaina Tirthankara, who is said
^Central Asia, p. 246, etc.; and Proceedings Royal Geographical Society,
September, 1SS5.
3§4
THE OPEN COURT.
to have preached as far east as the lower Ganges in 2100
B.C.* Sabeans were then removing from their South
Arabian home about Safa to the Turano-Kuthite king-
doms on the Euphrates, as well as seaward to India and
Ceylon. In 1S00 B.C., a counter-move took place west-
ward. The colonists on the lower Indus, the home of
Ikshvakas and other Sakae of Gotama's Sakya stock,
then moved into Abyssinia; so the circulation of thought
would be pretty free as well as by land as by water.
In the twelfth century B.C., Ayodhia was the impor-
tant Indian capitol of the kingdom of Oudh. Hindus
were then maturing their astronomical calculations; and
the Chinese taught the obliquity of the ecliptic and were
stretching out their hands to Baktria, and in the seventh
and sixth centuries b. c. were absorbing the Buddhist-
like teaching of the Tao or " Way of Life and Peace."
These were inculcated by the sage Laotsi, who came
from the borders of India,f where he had caught up a
sort of Indo-Buddhist Brahmanism, which he adapted in
his Taotist Bible to Chinese modes of thought. He
was closely followed by the philosophical schools of
Confucius, which rejected his animistic theories, and
placed reliance rather on an agnostic and practical piety,
more congenial to the Chinese mind.
How many waves of Buddhism surged back and for-
ward between Oxiana and Central Asia toward India on
the southeast and to Khorasan and South Caspian States,
we can only guess; but one great wave clearly com-
menced some 1,000 years B.C., and though ever and
again swept back, or absorbed for a time in strange cur-
rents, it maintained itself among the fastnesses of the
Koh-istan, Hindu-Kush and Himalayas, and everywhere
left its mark, and finally established itself during, if not
before, the fifth century B.C., over all the mountains and
valleys from lower Kashmir into Western Persia and
Baktria. From Tara natha's History of Buddhism and
Spiegel's Five Gat/ias, we gather that Buddhist missions
existed in Western Persia, in 450 B.C., during the reign
♦In Alabaster's Wheel of Law and Spence Hardy's Manual of Buddhism
Chap. IV., will be found some details regarding the previous Buddhas, more
especially of those of the present kalpa (age). The author quotes approvingly
Forbes's estimate of the times of the three preceding Gotamas, as given in the
Asiatic Societv's Journal of ]S36,from which we gatt.er that:
1. Kakltsanda lived about 3101 B.C., when the Turano-Akads were a civil-
ized power in and around Babylonia and when Arabian Sabeans or Shemites,
were beginning to push them onward. 2. Ko-naga-mana lived about 2099
B.C., when Aryans were pressing on Turanian India, and Shemites ruling Baby-
lonia and exploiting Turano- Egyptians, Kheta, Hamaths, etc. 3. Kasyapa
lived about 1014 B.C., the period predicted by the Chinese, but which they con-
fused with Gotama Sakya Muni.
Fa Hian says in our fourth century that Baktrian Buddhists worshipped
these three as well as Gotama, and "the entire bones of Kasyapa, or the relics
of his entire body," then existed in Ayodhya (Oudh), which, says Spence
Hardy, " agrees with the Singhalese records." At the Sanchi tope of say 250
B.C., there are niches for all the four Buddhas, and an inscription urging devo-
tees to give offerings to all; and on the great bell of the Rangoon pagoda it is
stated that in the Dagola are enshrined divine relics of the three Paiyas " or
deities preceding Gotama. Buddha, always recogni/.ed and revered the three, and
on leaving his forest retreat for Banares he visited thei.- thrones in a temple
there and proclaimed them of his Gotra or Brahman sect. The twenty Buddhas
previous to them were Kshalriyas of a further back Skythic, Sakaj, or Sakya
race — that is, Sogdians B.iktrians. Kasyapa was a native of Kasi or Banares.
tF. II. Balfour's Taoist Texts.
of Artaxerxes Longamanus and some were there and
then specially located and favored by him. Jews had
then overrun all these countries,* and were striving to
re-establish themselves and a sacred literature in Jiidea,f
while Greeks were listening to Sophokles, Sokrates and
Anaxagoras, then ventilating not a little Buddhistic
teaching:.
MONISM.
If this be considered pure, unmitigated materialism, I will
not dispute it. In fact, I have always tacitly regarded the con-
trast so loudly proclaimed between materialism and idealism (or by
whatever term one may designate the view opposed to the
former) as a mere quarrel about words. They have a common
foe in the dualism which pervaded the conception of the world
throughout the Christian era, dividing man into body and soul, his
existence into time and eternity, and opposing an eternal Creator to-
a created and perishable universe. Materialism, as well as idealism,
may, in comparison with this dualistic conception, be regarded as
monism, i. e., they endeavor to derive the totality of phenomena
from a single principle — to construct the universe and life from,
the same block. In this endeavor one theory starts from above,
the other from below; the latter constructs the universe from
atoms and atomic forces, the former from ideas and idealistic
forces. But if they would fulfill their tasks, the one must leap
from its heights down to the very lowest circles of nature, and to
this end place itself under the control of careful observation;
while the other must take into account the higher intellectual and.
ethical problems. Moreover, we soon discover that each of these
modes of conception, if rigorously applied, leads to the other.
"It is just as true," says Schopenhauer, "that the percipient is a
product of matter as that matter is a mere conception of the per-
cipient, but the proposition is equally one sided." " We are jus-
tified," says the author of the History of Materialism, more explic-
itly, "in assuming physical conditions for everything, even for
the mechanism of thought; but we are equally justified in con-
sidering not only the external world, but the organs, also, with
which we perceive it, as mere images of that which actually
exists." But the fact always remains, that we must not ascribe
one part of the functions of our being to a physical, the other to a
spiritual cause, but all of them to one and the same, which may
be viewed in either aspect. — David Frederick Strauss, The Old
Faith and the Arew, ff. ro, 20.
Whilst, then, we emphatically oppose the vital or teleological
view of animate nature which presents animal and vegetable
forms as the production of a kind Creator, acting for a definite
purpose, or of a creative natural force acting for a definite
purpose, we must, on the other hand, decidedly adopt that view of
the universe which is called the mechanical or causal. It may
also be called the monistic, or single principle theory, as opposed
to the two-fold principle, or dualistic theory, which is necessarily
implied in the teleological conception of the universe. — Ernst
JIaeckel, History of Creation, Vol. 1, p. 20.
This unity of all nature, the animating of all matter, the
inseparability of mental power and corporeal substance, Goethe
has asserted in the words: "Matter can never exist and be
*Cf. Hue's Christianity in China and Tartar}', i. Chap. I.
fThe Jews on the Her-i-rud, as at Herat and Baktria, claim to have been
established there during the tumults bewailed by Jeremiah about 630 B.C. They
say Herat is the Hara of the Old Testament, well known to their "Savior"
Cyrus, and that the King ol Assyria drove two and a half of their tribes toward
Hara previous to the destruction ot their first temple. We have records of fights
between Jews and Mazdeans in Herat, regarding putting out lights. The
religion of the Her-i-rud valley and Baktria was well known in Syria in Asoka's
time (250 11. c); most of these countries be:ug then ruled by Syrian kino-sand
Greeks.
THE OPEN COURT.
3§5
active without mind, nor can mind without matter." These first
principles of the mechanical conception of the universe have
been taught by the great monistic philosophers of all ages. Even
Democritus of Abdera, the immortal founder of the atomic
theory, clearly expressed them about 500 years before Christ; but
the great Dominican friar, Giordano Bruno, did so even more
explicitly. — //';'(/., /. 22.
When a stone is thrown into the air, and falls to earth accord-
ing to definite laws, or when in a solution of salt a crystal is
formed, the phenomenon is neither more nor less a mechanical
manifestion of life than the growth and flowering of plants, than
the propagation of animals or the activity of their senses, than
the perception or the formation of thought in man. This final
triumph of the monistic conception of nature constitutes the
highest and most general merit of the theory of descent, as
reformed by Darwin. — Ibid., p. 23.
Scientific materialism, which is identical with our monism,
affirms in reality no more than that everything in the world goes on
naturally — that every effect has its cause, and every cause its effect.
It therefore assigns to causal law — that is, the law of a necessary
connection between cause and effect — its place over the entire
series of phenomena that can be known. — Ibid., P-3J.
In order, then, to avoid in future the usual confusion of this
utterly objectionable moral materialism, with our scientific
materialism, we think it necessary to call the latter either
monism or realism. The principle of this monism is the same
as what Kant terms " principles of mechanism," and of which he
expressly asserts, that without it there can be no natural science
at all. This principle is quite inseparable from our non-miracu-
lous history of creation, and characterizes it as opposed to
the teleological belief in the miracles of a supernatural history
of creation. — Ibid., p. 37.
The opponents of the monistic or mechanical conception of
the world have welcomed Agassiz's work with delight, and find
in it a perfect proof of the direct creative action of a personal
God. But thev overlook the fact that this personal Creator is
onlv an idealized organism, endowed with human attributes.
This low dualistic conception of God corresponds with a low
animal stage of development of the human organism. The
more developed man of the present day is capable of, and justi-
fied in, conceiving that infinitely nobler and sublimer idea of God
which alone is compatible with the monistic conception of the
universe, and which recognizes God's spirit and power in all phe-
nomena without exception. This monistic idea of God, which
belongs to the future, has already been expressed by Giordano
Bruno in the following words: "A spirit exists in all things,
and no body is so small but contains a part of the divine sub-
stance within itself, by which it is animated." It is of this noble
idea of God that Goethe says: " Certainly there does not exist a
more beautiful worship of God than that which needs no image,
but which arises in our heart from converse with nature." By it
we arrive at the sublime idea of the unity of God and nature. —
Hid., pp. 70, 71.
Undoubtedly every clear and logical thinker must draw
from the facts of comparative anatomy and ontogeny which
have been brought forward, a mass of suggestive thoughts and
reflections which cannot fail of their effect on the further devel-
opment of the philosophical study of the universe. Neither can
it be doubted that these facts, if properly weighed and judged
without prejudice, will lead to the decisive victory of that philo-
sophical tendency, which we distinguish, briefly, as monistic or
mechanical, in distinction from the dualistic or teleological, on
which most philosophical systems of ancient, mediaeval and
modern times are based. This mechanical or monistic philoso-
phy asserts that everywhere the phenomena of human life, as
well as those of external nature, are under the control of fixed
and unalterable laws, that there is everywhere a necessary causal
connection between phenomena, and that, accordingly, the whole
knowable universe forms one undivided whole, a " monon." It
further asserts, that all phenomena are produced by mechanical
causes [causae efficicntes], not by prearranged, purposive causes
[causae filiates]. Hence there is no such thing as "freewill" in
the usual sense. On the contrary, in the light of this monistic
conception of nature, even those phenomena which we have
been accustomed to regard as most free and independent, the
expressions of the human will, appear as subject to fixed laws as
any other natural phenomenon. Indeed, each unprejudiced and
searching test applied to the action of our "free will" shows that
the latter is never really free, but is always determined by previous
causal conditions, which are eventually referable either to Heredity
or to Adaptation. Accordingly, we cannot assent to the popular
distinction between nature and spirit. Spirit exists everywhere
in nature, and we know of no spirit outside of nature. Hence,
also, the usual distinction between natural science and mental
science is entirely untenable. Every real science is at the same
time both a natural and a mental science. Man is not above
nature, but in nature. — Haeckcl, The Evolution of Man, Vol.
2, /• 454S-
He [a critic] knows that I have repeatedly and emphatically
asserted that our conceptions of matter and motion are but
symbols of an unknowable reality ; that this reality cannot be
that which we symbolize it to be; and that as manifested beyond
consciousness under the forms of matter and motion, it is the
same as that which, in consciousness, is manifested as feeling
and thought. Yet he continues to describe me as reducing every-
thing to dead mechanism. If his statement on pp. 383-4 has
any meaning at all, it means that there exists some " force oper-
ating ab extra" some "external power" distinguished by him as
"mechanical," which is not included in that immanent force of
which the universe is a manifestation ; though whence it comes
he does not tell us. This conception he speaks of as though it
were mine; making it seem that I ascribe the moulding of ogan-
isms to the action of this "mechanical" "external power," which
is distinct from the inscrutable cause of things. Yet he either
knows, or has ample means of knowing, that I deny every such
second cause; indeed he has himself classed me as an opponent
of dualism. I recognize no forces within the organism, or with-
out the organism, but the variously conditioned modes of the
universal immanent force; and the whole process of organic
evolution is everywhere attributed by me to the cooperation of
its variously-conditioned modes, internal and external. — Herbert
Spencer, Principles of Biology, Vol. i,p. 401.
The expression "substance of mind," if we use it in any other
way than as the x of our equation, inevitably betrays us into
errors; for we cannot think of substance save in terms that imply
material properties. Our only course is constantly to recognize
our symbols as symbols only and to rest content with that duality
of them which our constitution necessitates.
The unknowable, as manifested to us within the limits of con-
sciousness in the shape of feeling, being no less inscrutable than
the unknowable as manifested beyond the limits of consciousness
in other shapes, we approach no nearer to understanding the last
by rendering it into the first. The conditioned form under which
being is presented in the subject can not, any more than the con-
ditioned form under which being is presented in the object, be the
unconditioned being common to the two. — 1Kb., Principles of Psy-
chology, § 63.
The genetic or monistic origin and development of life on the
globe is fast passing through the same phases, and is now on its
high way to recognition and admission to the class of truths
whose opposite is ^first long believed, because wearing the
3S6
THE OPEN COURT.
outward garb of reality. — Lester F, Ward, Dynamic Sociology,
I ~ol. i, f. 49.
Yet here in the dependence of the will we have a paradox
which clings with the utmost tenacity, even to the most enlight-
ened of mankind. They have been compelled to admit the
monistic principle in the celestial bodies, in the inorganic world,
perhaps in the organic world. They may be even willing to agree
that man is himself a genetic product, that brain has been mechan-
ically evolved, that sensation and even thought are the effects
of antecedent causes, but when the great demi-god " will " is
sought to be rolled in, they take fright and resist this last
encroachment. — Ibid., p. jo.
From the array of great names which philosophy and sci-
ence have given to the world, I have singled out those of Auguste
Comte and Herbert Spencei as the subjects of these brief
sketches, not so much in consequence of any assumed preemi-
nence in these two men above others, as because they alone, of
all the thinkers of the world, have the merit of having carried their
generalizations from the phenomena of inorganic nature up to
those of human action and social life. Of all the philosophers
that humanitv has brought forth, these two alone have conceived
and built upon the broad principle of the absolute unity of
Nature and her laws throughout all their manifestations, from the
revolutions of celestial orbs to the rise and fall of empires and
the vicissitudes of social 'customs and laws. This grand monistic
conception is the final crown of human thought, and was
required to round out philosophy into a form of symmetry, whose
outlines, at least, admit of no further improvement. — Ibid., pp.
142, 143.
Count Goblet d'Alviella, in his Contemporary Evolution of
Religious Thought, refers to " monistic solutions in which mind
is looked upon as the property or manifestation of matter (material-
ism); where matter is made the outcome of mind (spiritualism);
or, in the third place, where mind and matter are taken to be the
opposite of one and the same mysterious reality (monism
proper)."
Mr. Herbert Spencer, under the inspiration of the two great
generalizations of our scientific era, the interconvertiblity of
forces and the evolution-hypothesis, has worked out with most
comprehensive grasp, profound penetration and exquisitely subtle
thought that great system of " Synthetic Philosophy," which we
all so highly admire. Following with genuine philosophical zest
the monistic bent, he has also attempted to crown the whole ma-
jestic structure by an all-comprehensive outlook, showing how
the infinite variety of physical and mental phenomena forming
our manifest world all issue from one single absolute power.
According to this conception, all physical occurrences, as well as
all mental states, are but so many different modes of this one
Absolute. — Edmund Montgomery, M. D., The Open Court, p. 10.
"The prime matter is to be laid down, joined with the primi-
tive form, as also with the first principles of motion, as it is found.
For the abstraction of motion has also given rise to innumerable
devices, concerning spirits — life and the like — as if there were not
laid a sufficient ground for them through matter and form, but they
depended on their own elements. But these three (matter, form and
life) are not to be separated, but only distinguished; and matter is
to be treated (whatever it may be) in regard to its adornment,
appendages and form, as that all kind of influence, essence, action
and natural motion may appear to be its emanation and conse-
quence.— Quoted from Francis Bacon by II. G. Atkinson.
CORRESPONDENCE.
A priest made the remark that the Archbishop's suspension
of Dr. McGlynn had made suspension respectable, and that the
Pope's excommunication made excommunication ridiculous. —
The Independent .
COMMON CONSENT, THE SOUL, IMMORTAL LIFE,
AND THE GODHEAD.
To the Editors: St. Joseph, Mo.
In commenting upon what I have said respecting Common
Consent, Mr. Stevens has overlooked the distinction between
common consent in matters of opinion and the common accept-
ance of demonstrative reasoning respecting established truths.
He has thus been led to treat the subject of my essay illogically,
finally begging the whole question at issue. In his closing par-
agraphs he asks whether the common consent of average minds
among men in regard to moral, religious (not speculative) and
spiritual questions, and as to the faiths and beliefs of men in
regard to God and immortal life, is not a legitimate and convincing
proof in itself, and one which no scientific or mathemalical dem-
onstration can reach or unsettle, since it is not founded on intel-
lectual conceptions or based on scientific information? As this is
precisely the question at issue, and as Mr. Stevens has not even
touched the arguments I employed, it might seem almost idle to
discuss his letter; but it may be well that I should point out the
mistakes into which many fall who treat this matter as Mr.
Stevens has, and the worthlessness of common consent in matters
of opinion, not as illustrated by the argument from probabili-
ties, but as illustrated again and again by facts, and more
especially in regard to opinions on moral, religious and spiritual
questions. I must premise, however, that I am not able to recog-
nize the precise force of Mr. Steven's exclusion of speculative
questions in religion; for whatever opinions men may hold on
such subjects as the immortal life and deity, which he includes as
appropriate subjects for the application of the argument from
common consent, must necessarily be speculative.
Consider the opinions of men in old times on the heavens
above, the earth beneath, and the waters in some places the
fires elsewhere under the earth. When ideas relating to such
subjects were matters of opinion, all men practically agreed in
regarding the heavens above as the temple of deity, and the
orbs they saw moving over the heavens as either themselves
deities or the special instruments of deity, appointed as powers to
influence in various ways the fortunes of men. They regarded
the earth as the one fixed abode of all God's creatures, except
such celestial intelligences and powers as had their home in
heaven, and such immaterial beings as existed in hades. And
recognizing the signs of intense heat beneath the earth's surface,
and the evidence in certain regions of sulphurous emanations
from below, they were led — universally where such signs were
obvious — to regard the region under the earth as a place of pun-
ishment for the wicked, where their souls might be purified as
by fire.
Now here are opinions which may be very aptly compared
with the opinions men entertain now (as they entertained them
also then) respecting the immortality of the soul. It may be
regarded as a merely accidental difference that observation and
experiment have enabled men to ascertain (which in old times
men deemed to be impossible), the incorrectness of the commonly
accepted view about heaven, earth, and hell, whereas in regard to
the immortality of the soul men have not obtained and never can
obtain any scientific information. Common opinion in each case
was based originally on observed facts patent to all. We know
what those facts were in the case of heaven, earth and hades. In
the question of the immortality of the soul, we know also what
the facts were; and so far as these facts are concerned, science,
which does not express a definite opinion in regard to the ques-
tion itself of the immortality of the soul, has very definitely shown
that common consent was altogether mistaken. All men
agreed in regarding the breath as the spirit or soul of man,
THE OPEN COURT.
387
inasmuch that the very word "spirit" means simply " breath."
In Greek fneuma and psyche ("spirit" and "soul") alike
mean "air "or "breath;" in Latin spirit us and anima have
the same meaning. A writer in the Middle Ages employing, as
was customary, the Latin language, had to use the same word for
the Holy Gho^t, for the spiritual part of man, and for rough or
smooth breathings; he could only differentiate by adjectives
between the spiritus sanctus, the spiritus asper, and the spiritus
/em's. In Greek to give up the ghost (piieumn ap/iienni), like our
own "expiring," was to breath out lite, while one and the same
word, fneumatikos, served to signify " what relates to air or wind,"
" what is spiritual or ghostly," and " what refers to the third per-
son of the Trinity." It was a natural mistake, and therefore a
matter on which common consent naturally went wrong, to
regard that invisible essence which seems to be breathed out and
in during life, and to pass away at death, as the spirit of man, the
true soul, which passes awav at death, into the ethereal realms
around and above us, remaining itself unchanged. Had any one
in those old days, when common consent regarded the breath as
the soul, stated the actual facts as science has since explained
them — had he told his mistaken fellows that the breath drawn in
is simply a part of the air, itself a mixture of gases of such and
such properties; that a certain highly interesting process akin to
combustion takes place when the air has entered the lungs; and
that as a result of this process the breath expired is a gaseous
mixture of entirely different character from the gaseous mixture
inspired — he would have been regarded as striking a blow at all
the ideas men held most holy, as giving a material and most
irreligious interpretation of man's immortal part, his pneuina,
spiritus, or " ghost."*
Equally natural, and equally to be corrected by observation
and reasoning, was the idea that the " shadow " is another self,
not spiritual like the breath, though immaterial, and not belonging
to the upper ethereal regions, but to the place of shades. The
Greek skin, the Latin umbra, and ourow«i"shade"(asin Pope's "For-
give, blest shade, the tributary tear"), all attest the kindship, which
before observation and experiment had corrected such ideas,
men recognized between the shadow of a man during life and his
ghost in the "realm of shades." It might seem that science
need hardly have been called in to correct so obvious a mistake.
But common consent about such matters dates back from before
even the merest beginnings of science.
I touched in my former essay on the further series of mis-
takes by which common consent found in the phenomena of
trance, catalepsy, etc., evidence that the spirit, soul, shade, or
ghost — the ethereal part of man — could pass from the corporeal
part during life and return after visiting other scenes; while
in dreams men not only recognized this power during life but
supposed — since they dreamed of the dead — that the spirits of the
dead could revisit the living. Science has certainly so far
explained the phenomena of dreams, trance, catalepsy, as to
show that they afford not a particle of evidence in favor of an
independent spiritual existence.
We see that science has in reality had a great deal to say
about the reasons, at any rate, on which common consent based
its faith in immortal life. Not a shred of the old evidence or
of those old reasons now remains. Even as to the doctrine itself,
considered independently of such mistaken ideas, science has
had much to say. Consciousness, memory, and reflection, which
* It may be remarked that though the word " ghost" was not derived from
" gas," the relationship between " ghost" and " gas" is none the less obviously
indicated by the circumstance that the word " gas" was derived from " ghost"
— or rather from its Dutch equivalent, gecst — by Van Helmont, in 1644. The
German geist, the Dutch gest, the Swedish gaxa, and our English "ghost"
are all akin to " yeast," and relate to fermentation, boiling, bubbling, the
emission of gaseous matter from within matter not gaseous.
are all essential to the conception of any immortality worth con-
sidering, have all been shown to be functions of the brain,
depending not only on the brain's existence, but on its existence
in suitable condition for its special work. Apart from this, which
renders the idea of a conscious, remembering, and thinking
immortality, almost inconceivable, science recognizes in every
exercise of these functions a certain amount of energy expended.
Even while the brain is in full vigor, it cannot work without
intervals of rest during which its powers may be recruited ; and
taking the whole life of man, the brain, like the rest of the bodv,
is limited lo the exercise of a certain total amount of energy.
Now, to imagine immortal consciousness, everlasting memory,
and eternal reflection, is to imagine an infinite amount of
energy exerted by a being essentially finite in his powers as
observed during life, — apart from the fact that the only organ bv
which, during life, this being was able to exert that kind of energy
has been destroyed before he began this infinite expenditure of
energy.
Science shows her moderation and caution by refusing, even
in the presence of all this evidence, to assert what she has
not been able to prove, that immortality is absolutely impossi-
ble. Science can, and does indeed, assert the doctrine of the res-
urrection of the body to be wholly inconsistent with ascertained
facts and possibilities. But whereas common consent is ready
confidently to assert the immortality of the soul as certain — as
something which may not only he known, but felt to be real —
science, though knowing immortality to be almost certainly
impossible, yet refrains from asserting this impossibility, because
it has not been absolutely proved. Now if we compare the doc-
trine of immortality, as thus far dealt with by science, with the
doctrine formerly held by men respecting earth, heaven and hell,
we see that the resemblance is complete, up to the point where
high probability in favor of the accepted doctrines about the
earth give place to absolute demonstration. There is not, proba-
bly there never can be, absolute demonstration that immortal life is
impossible. '
We may agree with Mr. Stevens that the thoughts of
such demonstration is conceivable. But he goes on to sav that if
such demonstration were obtained and all men convinced, com-
mon consent would be in favor of the doctrine of no immortality,
which, therefor*, if my reasoning about common consent is
sound, must be untrue. But the case of the earth, heaven, and
hell, illustrates the fallacy of this reasoning. Common consent
made the earth flat, with the heavens above and the fires of hell
beneath; and common consent was altogether mistaken. Does
common consent now make the earth a globe, surrounded bv
star-strewn space, and inclosing an intensely heated nucleus? and
does common consent thus, according to my reasoning, show
this view to be incorrect? Common consent does neither of
these things. Common consent has not formed and adopted the
opinion that the earth is a globe, but has simply accepted the
reasoning by which the few who observe, experiment, and reflect,
have established that teaching as a demonstrated fact. The
theory that common consent is absolutely certain to go wrong in
matters of opinion, by no means implies that the average mind
cannot be convinced by facts and reasonings collected by minds
either above the average or specially devoted to particular
researches.
Similar considerations apply to all the examples cited bv Mr.
Stevens. It is certain that the average man bv no means
adopted honesty, truth, and independence, as things good in
themselves. It has been only in response to the teachings of the
few that right ideas have ever been adopted, in any large com-
munity of men, on these points. Even to this day independence
of thought, by which the more capable reasoners should form and
adopt their own views, and the generality should accept teachings
388
THE OPEN COURT.
which are clearly and convincingly presented to them, has not yet
been admitted to be good; in so much that even here in America
to say that a man is a freethinker implies censure, though no
man can be called free at all who is not free in thought. Gen-
eral agreement in such matters is only obtained when the aver-
age mind has been so far trained as (i) to recognize its natural
tendency to error, and (2) to be able to follow sound reasoning
though not able of itsell to form sound opinions.
With regard to the question of a personal Deity, common
consent has gone wrong again and again; while again and again
science, as it advanced, has been able to point out the mistakes
underlying common opinion. Men personified as gods the powers
of nature — wind, rain, sun, storm, river, sea — all that in any way
seemed to possess independent will and power; next they raised
their eyes to the heavens and recognized personal will and power in
sun and moon, in planets and stars. And even when at last the
thought of one power at the back of all these was admitted,
men still erred in picturing the personal qualities of that power after
such examples among men as they mistakenly judged to be noblest
and best — the successful warrior, the monarch, the despot who
claimed and forced sacrifices from the people. As men advanced,
their ideas of the personality of God improved correspondingly.
But we may be sure that common consent has all along been
wrong, and is wrong still, in forming anthropomorphic ideas of the
personality of Deity ; since it thus pictures that personality after
models necessarily imperfect. The idea of science, which has
always been the idea of the few more thoughtful men — the
Isaiahs, the Pauls, the Darwins, the Spencers — that the person-
ality of Deity must be something beyond all human powers of
conception, is practically proved by the common consent ot
average minds in the contrary ideas to be the only true doctrine
in this matter. Richard A. Proctor.
LETTER FROM NEW YORK.
July, 1S87.
If Boston has its Concord, so also has New York its Orange.
What the Hillside Chapel is to the former, is St. Cloud to the
latter, an unobtrusive building in a little hamlet on the summit
of Orange mountain, 600 feet above the sea-level and fourteen
miles from the great city.
Orange itself, consisting of a chain of beautiful suburban vil-
lages climbing a winding valley and a picturesque mountain guard-
ing it upon the west, rightfully regards this mountain top as the
choicest gem in all its emerald setting. From its summit can be
seen a wondrous picture of thriving towns, isolated farm-houses
and growing cities, set in the midst of billowy verdure, till, in the
hazy distance, New York hangs upon the horizon like a city of
a dream.
At St. Cloud was lately held a course of lectures called the
Summer School of Philosophy, under the direction of Mr.
Thomas Davidson, so favorably known to the general public, as
well as to the readers of The Open Court as a philologist
and philosopher. " Partly," as Mr. Davidson says, as " a prep-
aration for the lectures of the Concord School of Philosophy,
and partly as a supplement to them," these lectures were
given, and with great success. There were students from St.
Louis, from the South and from various portions of New
England, and the request is unanimous for a repetition of the
course next year.
Fourteen lectures were given on various phases of Aris-
totle's thought, beginning with a paper by Mr. Davidson on
Greek Philosophy up to Aristotle's time. These day lectures
were devoted to " Practical Philosophy " and a corresponding
number of evening lectures to Aristotle's Esthetic Philosophy,
the whole giving a very complete and logical introduction to
Greek thought in its highest aspects.
The speakers, in addition to Professor Davidson, were Mr.
Edwin D. Mead, Dr. Fillmore Moore and Mrs. Helen Campbell.
The first six evening lectures were given to the Greek drama, the
remainder to Greek art, profusely illustrated with the stereopticon,
by Mr. Davidson, whose enthusiasm for all things Grecian
waxed high during a long residence in that land to whose
thinkers we owe so much.
In Mrs. Campbell's lecture on the " Hygienic Advantages of
the Greek Dress," that essayist took the ground that it is now in
use only in a modified form in the evening dress, but that we
could have fashions adapted to modern needs and still meet all
the requirements of ease, grace and beauty. " The key-note of
Greek dress was liberty, of ours, slavery," she said, " and we
must be emancipated." When shall that time come? All hail
to any school of philosophy which shall help the leaders of
thought to devise and introduce to favorable notice a style of
clothing that shall, at least, have the negative value of ceasing to
restrict those functions that give free play, when unimpeded, to
those noble powers of the mind which depend so much on
healthful vehicles of expression.
Taking these two summer schools at Concord and St. Cloud,
modern students have little excuse for ignorance concerning the
character and teachings of that philosopher who, more than two
thousand years ago, determined to comprehend and explain all
phenomena. In fact with a positiveness amounting to dogma-
tism Aristotle declared that the perception of truth by the
spirit is absolutely infallible. As through scientific observation
and discovery, the field is constantly enlarging, the need of the
study of phenomena is daily growing more imperative. It follows
that such schools of philosophy are necessary, even if, as Carlyle
says, " all that a university or final highest school can do for us, is
still but what the first school began doing — teach us to read."
Even so, will not the final school apply the philosophy of the
past to explain what is read in the multiform phenomena of the
present? One of our best teachers has wisely said: "The over
soul nourishes me and unlocks new magazines of power and
enjoyment every day. I will not meanly decline the immensity
of good, because I have heard that it has come to others in
another shape."
There are new social schools as well as schools of philosophy,
held under other names. The Nineteenth Century Club, of New
York, is one. Projected by Courtlandt Palmer, and made a suc-
cess by the help of such brilliant society leaders as Allan Thorn-
dike Rice, of the North American Review, and Mrs. John S.
Sherwood, it embraces in its membership those who try to soften
intellectual tastes by the elegance of fashionable associations, or
who aspire to lift fashion into the atmosphere of literature.
During three winters the monthly meetings of this club,
held in the noble rooms of the American Art Association, have
been filled to overflowing by members and guests to listen to
papers read by eminent men, upon social and literary topics per-
tinent to the times. These essays have been followed by discus-
sions, frequently of great originality and force, which have held
the audience until well nigh midnight. They have been inevit-
ably liberalizing in their tendency, although, of course, creeds
have not been directly considered.
The Nineteenth Century Club is remarkable for being the
first large association in the city in which men and women meet
on the same footing. The President, Courtlandt Palmer, well-
known for his liberal and progressive views, from its first incep-
tion cherished the idea of an association, which, embracing both
sexes, might become a social and intellectual power in a city that
stands in need of the combined efforts of its foremost thinkers.
The social masculine club, it is well-known, is subversive to
morals as to domesticity ; this obviates all such objections while
affording many incentives to the average attendant.
THE OPEN COURT.
389
The membership has been confined to 150 persons. This it
is now proposed to double, and also to secure a building to
be transformed into a well-appointed club house, with a restau-
rant, library and parlors, as well as a large hall for stated meetings.
Women are upon the board of managers and have proved
efficient in business as in discussions.
That women are growing large and broad enough for asso-
ciated labor has been amply proved in Sorosis. This club, exclu-
sively for one sex, is an educator for those associations in which
both shall one day work harmoniously. It has done some excel-
lent work during the past year, and shows a deeper interest than
ever before in questions of profound import. Divided into com-
mittees, each group studies and works in its own line, either of
literature, art, education, philanthropy, house and home, music
or science. The fruitage of these committees is brought into the
monthly social meeting, and essays are followed by extempora-
neous discussions and sometimes by plans of labor which branch
out in various directions and take years in which to mature. To
the earnest and thoughtful, Sorosis is refreshing, stimulating and
enlarging. It goes without saying that such a society is an
inspiration to liberal thought.
The President, M. Louise Thomas, is made in a large
mould and keeps abreast of the best things, of the age.
In a late journey through the western portion of New England,
I have everywhere had evidence of the need which country places
have of the help that city prisoners of poverty can and ought to
afford. These 200,000 working women ought to be scattered over
farms and hamlets, east and west, until, by the very scarcity of
woman's labor in this great city where the weak are inevitably sub-
merged, each toiler shall command a fair living price. The con-
gestion of the great social center thus relieved, the extremities
would feel the vivifying influence of the equalized circulation,
and overworked wives and mothers in country homes would enter
upon healthier and happier lives.
Meantime the working-women troop by, morning and even-
ing, pale, sad, attenuated shadows of the ideal woman. Instead
of sending large sums to foreign missions, who will do the
greatest of all missionary work in one or all of our foremost
cities? Who will establish bureaus in which to train 200,000
workers for those homes where they are needed and which they
need. Hester M. Poole.
THE COPE-MONTGOMERY CONTROVERSY.
To the Editors:
In re the Cope-Montgomery controversy one who has read
Herbert Spencer's works, and who entertains a high regard for
Professor Cope's genius and personal friendship, begs leave to
criticise the Professor's summary, as given on page 361 of this
magazine :
1. Tridimensional matter and its properties maybe all that
our senses can realize, but it does not follow that nothing exists
but matter and motion. At one time the sphericity of the earth
was incomprehensible. Newtonian laws enabled the idea to be
grasped. Similarly we cannot predict the impossibility of a
fourth dimension, or that radical changes in human conception of
things may not occur, based upon some great (but now incon-
ceivable) discovery. Spencer disposes of all this in the present
impossibility of understanding ultimates.
2. The properties of matter may as well be stated to be
energy (motion), of which consciousness is a mode, instead of
energy and consciousness.
3- Since all matter has extension and residence how can con-
sciousness (as a mode of motion, or not) be denied as a property
of universal matter?
4. As consciousness gradually arises from certain molecular
grouping and passes from automatism to automatism, its extinc-
tion, as all things pass from the indefinite through definite to
indefinite again, consciousness can only be excluded from the list
of physical forces by the same reasoning that would bar out elec-
tricity or heat.
5. The end of consciousness is automatism just as less friction
is evidentin the more complete adaptation of means to ends. Auto-
matism often serves better ends than consciousness, the tendency
of the former is to end in the latter, through the law of least
resistence, that operates universally. Will only apparently antag-
onizes mechanical automatism as the upward rush of the foun-
tain only apparently antagonizes gravitation, while depending
upon it.
6. Consciousness is evidentin existence, as any other prop-
erty of matter, and as resistance becomes less it disappears.
7. Will is a product of pre-existing conditions of matter, and
can no more be said to precede or cause development than we
can say the egg precedes the chicken, or the chicken precedes the
egg, exclusively.
S. The parent substance of protoplasm consists of molecules
subject to physical forces, and whether these constitute all there
is in protoplasm no one can affirm or deny, as yet. Hence the
entire matter is argued from conjecture.
9. The probability of a primitive mind in a primitive substance
would appear to the physiological chemist to be unnecessary and
pananimistic, which, with an anthropomorphic twist, becomes
pantheistic; all of these conceptions being more sentimental than
reasonable, and as incapable of proof as their denial. So the
existence of a Supreme Being is neither probable nor improbable.
10. Since will controls the movements and organization of
matter, and the movements and organization of matter controls
the will, the persistence of human consciousness in other worlds
than the earth may or may not be possible.
S. V. Clevexger.
THE SEYBERT COMMISSION REPORT.
To the Editors: Barre, Mass.
The preliminary report of the Seybert Commission for inves-
tigating modern spiritualism is just out, and deserves more than
a passing notice from the pen of the reviewer.
This Commission has so well done its work, even in its pre-
liminary report, that it would seem as if an unprejudiced person
need only to read this book to be convinced that all the so-called
spirit manifestations can be produced by individuals now living,
and, therefore, in every case where a spirit claim is made, the right
to demand the strictest test conditions should be maintained by
every investigator, or else unfairness be conceded on the part of
the medium.
Who can doubt, after reading this report, that these ten Com-
missioners would have been deceived by Slade, as was Professor
Zoellner and his four colleagues, had they been equally satisfied
without any knowledge of jugglery to take everything that passed
before their eyes above board as fact, to the exclusion of all their
peering beneath the board (table) and there discovering the
process by which Slade performed his wonderful feats.
The exposure of Slade is not unlike that by Mr. John W.
Truesdell, of Syracuse, in Bottom Eacts. But the Commission
has done other similar good work in showing the method by
which the " sealed letters" are opened and read, materialization is
effected, even when the spirit apparently rises through the floor
in the presence of numerous spectators, and the various other
frauds imposed upon a too credulous public.
But I will not detain the readers of The Open Court with
my remarks, but refer them directly to the book itself, only pre-
mising that if they will read it carefully and without prejudice,
they will arrive at the conclusion that the believers in spiritualism,
39°
THE OPEN COURT.
who have been converted to its theories by any of the
so-called mediums exposed by this Commission will feel that they
have been most egregiously humbugged.
In the case of Mrs. S. E. Patterson, Dr. Knerr, a member of the
Commission, saw her in a pocket mirror, adjusted for the purpose,
for the third tunc open the slates, read the question, and do the
writing that she avowed was performed by spirits.
Dr. Furness, another member of the Commission, who sent
questions in sealed envelopes to four of the most noted " sealed-
letter" writers in the country, reports: "In every instance the
envelopes had been opened and reclosed ; it is, therefore, scarcely
necessary to add that every instance bore the stamp of fraud."
And thus it went on with nearly all the mediums; those who
were not detected in actual fraud, were inferrentially duplicating
what they claimed as spirit work, while none gave entire satis-
faction.
The famous Slade-Zoellner investigation, the accounts of
which have made so many converts in this country, was com-
pletely exploded by Professor Fullerton, the Secretary of the
Commission, who, in his visit to Germany in 1886, held long con-
ferences with the three surviving colleagues of Professor Zoellner,
by which he was able to ascertain that these " scientific men"
were in no condition to arrive at a correct conclusion in reference
to the subject that they had professed to investigate.
"In conclusion," the Commission reports, " we beg to express
our regret that thus far we have not been cheered in our investi-
gations by the discovery of one single novel fact; but undeterred
by this discouragement, we trust, with your permission, [the
Trustees of the University of Pennsylvania] to continue them, with
what thoroughness our future opportunities may allow, and with
minds as sincerely and honestly open, as heretofore, to conviction."
I trust this investigation will go on until such scathing
exposures are made, that not one solitary trickster can be found
who will ply his or her infamous trade under the delusive appel-
lation, "Spiritual Medium." Ella E. Gibson.
HIS WIDOW.
To the Editors:
Expressions that were introduced into a language and gener-
ally accepted when a certain condition of morals or manners
rendered them true, are retained when the condition of affairs to
which they formerly applied has altogether changed. This
is especially true of those expressions which pertain to the
lormer degraded position of women. Among these terms is the
distasteful one which yet remains in common acceptation, " his
widow." The words husband and wife have sacred, tender asso-
ciations to those who are bound by the ties of love in faithful
union. My husband or my wife does not suggest an offensive
ownership, and there is equality in it.
When a man dies his wife is called by the language of the
law, and by all who have not positive objections to the expression,
"his widow." On the other hand, when a woman dies no one
ever hears of her widower. There is no good reason why the
term should be used in one case rather then in the other. It but
serves as a reminder of the days when a man held absolute rule
over his wife; of the time when she was virtually his while they
both lived, and after he passed into the realm of shadows he still
clenched his ghostly fingers in a firm grip of ownership, which is
only lelinquished in case a transfer is made by a male relative of
the woman to a more substantial individual who is yet in the
flesh; given away as the church puts it, for according to the
marriage service of this institution a woman must exchange
hands in form of gift from one man to another. In early times
it was not always a gift, but a price was required by the legal
owner as in exchange of property of any other kind.
I know clergymen even in this day of enlightenment
who decline to perform the Episcopal marriage service when
requested to omit that portion of it, or those other objectionable
words which require a woman to serve and obey. To love and
honor is all a woman can promise and retain her dignity and
independence, and she certainly owes no thanks to a church
which holds to a service which degrades her to a position of ser-
vitude. The moral influence of such a service is unqualifiedly
bad, and when the Episcopal church starts out to revise its
prayer-book, the marriage service should be stripped of its bar-
barisms as unworthy of the day and generation.
The expression "his widow" came from the time when
woman had no resort for support save marriage; no chance for
position unless it came through her husband; no opportunity to
make her place in the world except as his wife or his widow.
To the times when woman could never be in the nominative case,
but always in the possessive referring to a masculine proper
noun.
When a married woman dies, the announcement is made
somewhat as follows:
Died, Mary L. wife of James Andrews.
Sometimes she has the good fortune to die in her residence or her
home, or the homestead, but occasionally, even now, she, poor, pen-
niless, homeless creature dies at the residence of her husband;
better, to be sure, than the infirmary, but yet not enough her
own to be called hers. There is no word said about leaving
a widower. She often, however, leaves a husband; but should
James Andrews die first, it would be mentioned that he left not a
wife but a widow. Now why should widow be used in one case
more than widower in the other? And why should a woman who
is bereaved of her husband be constantly reminded of it by being
called his widow, or still worse Widow Andrews? This owner-
ship does not cease with her life, but on her tombstone will be
placed an inscription similar to that prepared by the famous
Widow Bedott, and the " late relict o' Hezekiah" is fortunate if
she does not sleep in a row of " tandem wives," all owned by the
same man. The number of these one sees in passing through a
cemetery suggests the idea of possession has not yet been rele-
gated to the barbarians of early history. The cultivated classes of
people, however, are commencing to avoid this senseless way of
marking the last resting-places of women, and give them the
individuality of their own names, indicating that they were of
sufficient importance to be remembered for what they were
themselves and not because they were the wives of men. The
man has his name without mentioning whether he was a
husband or widower; although he may have been tenderly loved
by a devoted wife, it is not in good taste to state the fact upon his
tombstone.
May the day soon come when wife-stones and widow-stones
shall disappear from our places of burial, and " his widow"
become an obsolete expression. C. McEveriiard.
"THE INSTITUTIONAL ORDER."
To the Editors:
I observe in your issue of the 7th inst. an article on the
" Failure of the Radical Method." It strikes me the article is
misleading, and calculated to do harm.
First, it is not correct to confound the " Radical Method"
with the " Free Religious Association," of Boston, as represent-
ing " the dregs of the great reform era of New England," though
the Association may have been organized to give utterance to rad-
ical ideas. The article allows that the Association has had and
has done its particular work for twenty years, as "a critical
judgment," "a voice in the wilderness," without aiming to be
"an element of organized life in the community."
I had supposed that the leaders and co-workers in the Free
Religious Association were positive men and women and
THE OPEN COURT.
39 1
forerunners in the great change which has come, rather than the
dregs of anv period. In so far as they worked on the radical
method their work has been far from a failure.
Is it intended to say that everything is a failure which is not
according to " the institutional order," and that henceforth posi-
tive, radical thought must be discharged, unpopular utterances
withheld, and all of us must fall into line with the current "con-
servative religious life?" This seems to be the implication, as
the closing sentence reads: "It would appear that even the
come-outers from organized religion are compelled to fall into
lines of sympathy and union with the institutional order from
which they have heretofore most vigorously dissented."
Is this so? Is success to be found only in, and measured by,
popular credulity? That every great movement of thought does
not pass into organized form, does not gather around it a strong
and numerous sect, does not become established in the institu-
tional sense, is not surprising. Such men as Darwin and Huxley
and Spencer do not work to build up sects, but to modify and
direct thought, and this is what the Free Religious Association
has done.
The institutional order, or method, is to establish some special
phase of faith or worship as a finality, and an essential to save
men from some calamity. The radical method, aiming to pro-
mote growth and progress by thinking, does not let society rest
in any half-truths or wrong theories, or imperfect conditions. It
accepts traditions and established rules only as they are verified
and shown to be true by experience, and calls on the world to go
forward to riper, richer harvests. It arouses individual capacity
and a sense of power and responsibility, which the anathema
of no pope, priest or synod can put to rest.
I do not understand that the Free Religious Association ever
was a moral reform movement or intended to be such. If it sees
fit to disband, which it has a right to do, its members will not in
consequence fall into the hands of the grasping, selfish, prose-
lyting orders of any name.
The cause of radical thought and enlightenment will not go
backward. None of us can live and work alway ; but others will
take up and carry forward the torch of truth even to the destruc-
tion of the firmest instituted, the finest and most massive pillars
of antiquated superstitions. Institutions decay. Only humanity
and truth survive. A. N. Adams.
BOOK REVIEWS.
CHARACTER.
The following is from a friend who is a firm theist:
It is a good character that man should respect, love and ven-
erate, not power. This regard to character is the principle that
guides the intelligent human mind in our relations with our fel-
low creatures, and no reason exists why we should set aside the
application of it to the character of any mind and power in the
universe. If the character of a God by his deeds and general
activities is known to be unreasonable and vicious, as the best
human judgment sometimes decides the moral character of a
man to be, then the dignity of an intelligent and honest man
justifies him in withholding from such a God all respect, esteem,
or worship; for a God, like a man, should be- judged of by his
deeds. The fact of such a God having power, like a human tyrant,
to crush us if we displease him, is no reason why man with his
intelligence, free will, dignity and courage, should crouch in fear
and pretend to love, worship and adore him.
Let our honest and earnest Christian friends see to it that the
character of the God they idealize and call upon us to venerate,
love and worship, has the ring in it of the true metal. Is it
power they worship or is it character? James Eddy.
The High-Caste Hindu Woman. By Pundita Ramabai Saras-
vati, with introduction by Rachel S. Bodley, A. M., M. D.,
Dean of Woman's Medical College of Pennsylvania. Phila-
delphia, 18S7, pp. 133.
Nothing marks more clearly the increase of communication
between the peoples of the earth — widely separated in distance —
and the great enlargement of liberality of thought and feeling,
than the publication of such a book as this. It is an appeal to
Americans from the heart of India to help her women to educa-
tion and emancipation. It is not the missionary cry that here are
souls perishing eternally without the knowledge of Christ. We
are not asked to convert them to our religion, but simply to help
them to rise above a condition of degradation and slavery which
makes this life intolerable.
The author of this book, Pundita Ramabai, has been in this
country for over a year and is well-known to many persons in
Boston, New York and especially in Philadelphia. She is quiet
and modest in appearance, but dignified and self-reliant, and she
attracts confidence by the simplicity of her manners and the
moderation and earnestness of her speech.
Her own history is a remarkable one, for she is one of the
very few native Hindu women who has had opportunity for good
education and also a wide knowledge of her own people. Her
father was an educated and progressive man, who was strongly
impressed with a desire that his wife should be educated like the
wife of the reigning Peshwa, whose learning excited his admira-
tion. But the first wife had no desire to be instructed and the ex-
periment failed. She died early, however, and the widower not
forgetting his purpose, married a young girl of nine years and
carefully educated her. But the objections against his plan were
so strong that he was obliged to retreat to the jungle to form a
peaceful home. The young wife Lakshimbai " grew in stature
and knowledge," and the father devoted himself to the education
of his children, and also received other students, who were attracted
to the mountains by his reputation for sanctity and learning.
Ramabai was too young to profit much by her father's instruc-
tions before his death, but her mother continued the good work,
and it is to her that she dedicates her book — as " the light and
guide of my life."
The family history is interesting and affecting, for they
struggled with poverty and were wanderers without a home.
After her parents' death Ramabai traveled through India with
her brother and thus obtained a wide knowledge of her own land
and the condition of her countrywomen.
She was fortunate in remaining single until the age of six-
teen, when she married a Bengali gentleman, a graduate of the
Calcutta University. "Afier nineteen months of happy married
life," she says: " My dear husband died of cholera. A few
months before a little daughter was born and named Manorama "
(heart's joy).
What wonder that this woman so prepared for her mission by
early training and by the joy and sorrow of her own experience,
devotes herself to the elevation of her own sex, and especially to
the relief of that most wretched class of women — the widows of
the high-caste families of India. She recognizes all that has been
done for education by the English government and by Christian
missionaries, but neither of these agencies can overcome the bar-
riers placed around the Hindu widow by the religion and customs
the country. She believes that the only teachers who can really
enter the zenanas and instruct the children, are those of their own
nation, religion and caste; and in the widows, often young girls
who have known nothing of marriage but the name and the re-
strictions on their liberty, she finds a class to whom this occupa-
tion would be the greatest of blessings, and who can give to it the
392
THE OPKN COURT.
time for thorough preparation. Her plan is, therefore, to estab-
lish a Normal School, where such women can receive a thorough
training for teaching. They must be supported during the years
thus spent in preparation, for the Hindu widow inherits no prop-
erty from either father or husband. The details of her plan are
given in this book, from the sale of which she hopes to receive
help toward the establishment of her school. A committee
has already been formed in Boston to assist her in her work, and
we confidently believe that she will take a new step in the educa-
tion of women in India, which will do very much toward break-
ing the yoke which the laws of Men v have bound upon the necks
of this unfortunate portion of the human race.
Ramabai is a Christian— having, as she says, in England,
"gradually learned to feel the truth of Christianity and to see that
it is a philosophy, teaching truths higher than I had ever known
in all our systems." She does not appear to accept it however, in
any narrow spirit, and she wishes carefully to guard her institu-
tion from any theological basis, she will not enjoin the reading of
the Bible— or attempt to make her pupils Christians. Her effort
will be to enlighten their minds and lead them to think upon all
subjects important to their present welfare and improvement.
Her book is written with great simplicity and will carry con-
viction to many minds. One or two critics have doubted the ex-
istence of the evils to which she refers and have declared that she
speaks of things which existed fifty years ago— but which English
authority has put an end to. A careful reading of her book will
show her acquaintance with all that has been done, both by the
English government and English philanthropists, and also by
that noble band of native reformers, the Brahmo Somaj, but these
have only awakened the perception of the need of reform, and the
desire to enforce it in individual minds; she points out the way to
carry it into the home, the very citadel of the old religion and cus-
toms, and there to make education effective for the welfare of the
women of India. From all the testimony we have been able to
gather from other sources, she understates rather than exagge-
rates the evils she proposes to remedy.
Besides the interest in her own life and work, we find in the
introduction a brief notice of the life of Dr. Amandibai Joshee,
who was well known to many here as the voung physician who
graduated at Philadelphia, and went afterward as an interne to
the New England Hospital in Boston. Her life, which promised
so much of help and encouragement, was closed by death very
soon after her return home. Those who knew her here will be
glad to possess the fine photograph of her which accompanies the
book, as well as a similar one of Ramabai.
The introduction is by the well-known Dean of the Women's
Medical College in Philadelphia, who has had ample opportunity
to know these two remarkable women — and whose testimony is
of the greatest value, from her high reputation. There is occa-
sionally a flavor of orthodoxy which does not seem quite in keep-
ing with the subject, but the Dean's action has been so broad and
liberal that we will not find fault with what is probably a custom-
ary form of speech which does not bear the force to her mind that
it does to those who are accustomed to a more radical method of
thought.
We commend this book heartily and have hastened to bring
it into The Open Court, where we feel sure it will meet a
candid reception and a just verdict. E. D. C.
extract fun out of even dolorous situations, as, for instance, in the
chapter entitled " A Raid on Canada," which describes a night's
encampment on a deserted and unpleasant little island in Cana-
dian waters, which they were glad to leave after one night's stay;
but this is the way the Shaybacks viewed it after a sleepless, anx-
ious night: "Within twenty-four hours what had been accom-
plished? We had wrested an uninhabited island from the domin-
ion of its own solitude. We had established law and order; insti-
tuted republican government; introduced the Christian religion;
reorganized society on a cooperative basis; effected a reform in
labor; secured the rights of woman; founded a free public library
of a dozen volumes and opened a school of practical philosophy.
And now," said Mr. Shayback, "all that remains to be done, with
this island is to abandon it as soon as possible." And so, in sev-
enteen charming chapters of delightful description of idyllic camp
life the Shayback couple (who seem to be thoroughly one), make
us stay-at-homes homesick with longing to "go and do likewise,"
yet an undercurrent of feeling warns us that we are perhaps, lack-
ing in the right sort of spirit which would enable us to accept
with equanimity all the ups and downs experienced by the happy
Shayback campers. Most of the ten seasons of camping were
passed on the shores of Lake Memphramagog, in Vermont, but
the scene is varied by glimpses of peaceful military (or militia)
camp life near Boston; in Maine woods and in missionary life in
India. The latter chapter is one of Mrs. Barrows' three special
contributions to the book, and one which makes us feel as Mr.
Barrows premises we should — regret "that Mrs. Barrows' name
is not attached to a larger number of these sketches." We advise
all next year's campers to take the Shaybacks in Camp along with
them for profitable advice as well as pleasureable amusement.
Among the many attractions of the Century magazine for
August (the midsummer holiday number) we have only space
to note Brander Matthews paper on "The Songs of the War,"
which includes authentic accounts of the origin of the most nota-
ble of the songs, with autographs, in whole or in part, of Ran-
dall's "My Maryland," Mrs. Howe's "Battle Hymn of the
Republic," and Mr. Gibbon's "Three Hundred Thousand More;"
altogether a most readable paper apart from its relation to the
war. To this Mrs. Howe adds an account of the circumstances
attending the writing of her hymn; Edward Atkinson's discus-
sion of "Low Prices, High Wages, Small Profits — What Makes
Them;" Gen. Greely's description of an episode of the Lady
Franklin Bay Expedition, under the title of "Our Kivigtok," a
kivigtok being, in the language of the explorer, a man who has
fled mankind and through a solitary life amid nature's surround-
ings has acquired a gift of clairvoyance; and a short paper by
William Earl Hidden, entitled "Is it a Piece of a Comet?" A
fine portrait of Julia Ward Howe is the frontispiece of this num-
ber, and other portraits are those of John Brown (whose grave at
North Elba is also pictured), Caleb Cushing, William L. Yancey,
Generals Schofield, A.J. Smith, J. I). Cox, James H. Wilson and
Emerson Opdycke of the Union army, and Generals Hood,
Forrest, Stephen D. Lee, Cheatham and Cleburne of the Con-
federates.
The Shaybacks in Camp: Ten Summers Under Canvas. By
Samuel J. Barrows and Isabel C. Barrows. Boston and New-
York : Houghton, Mifflin ..V Co, 1S87; pp. 305. Price $1.00.
If this handsome volume were a veritable romance instead of
the realistic record that it is, it would still be a delightful vacation
book from the cheerful, easy-going, optimistic spirit of its authors
who seemingly know "how to make the best" of things, and to
The Chicago Law Times, the legal quarterly, edited by
Catherine V. Waite, in its last issue dated July, 18S7, has a very
carefully prepared and cogent article anent Woman Suffrage,
entitled " Suffrage a Right of Citzenship," written by Judge
Waite, the husband of the editress. A finely engraved portrait of
"John Jay, first Chief-Justice of the United States," accompanies
the article by this title; Melville W. Fuller, William Brackett
and other writers, make this third number of the Law Times espe-
cially interesting.
The Open Court,
A Fortnightly Journal,
Devoted to the Work of Establishing Ethics and Religion Upon a Scientific Basis.
Vol. I. No. 15.
CHICAGO, SEPTEMBER 1, 1887.
( Three Dollars per Year.
i Single Copies, 15 cts.
THE SOUL.
BY EDWARD C. HEGELER.
In a late number of our journal Dr. Paul Carus
gives us a translation of Goethe and Schiller's Xenions,
to one of which he, at my request, called special atten-
tion in the foot-note. " This distich gives us in nuce the
fundamental idea of monism." The distich reads:
"Vor dem Tode erschrickst Du! Du wiinschest unsterblich zu
leben?
Leb im Ganzen ! Wenn Du Lange dahin bist, es
bleibt."
"Art thou afraid of death? thou wishest for being immortal!
Live as a part of the whole, When thou art gone, it
remains."
In continuing the foot-note Dr. Carus adds: "This
living immortal by living in the whole, as a part of the
whole, is the immortality of the soul Mr. Hegeler spoke
of in his essay on ' The Basis of Ethics.'"
In this statement of my views the words " of the
soul " should have been omitted after immortality, as
the distich does not describe soul preservation, but gen-
eral immortality. If we think that life will possibly be
extinguished on our earth, though probably not for mill-
ions of years, the thought that we are parts of a great
whole reaching beyond it and in life-activity elsewhere,
and the thought of eternal time in which the matter
now in our planet, with its inherent potential life, will
play its role again, will still give us peace.
I described something more definite as the immortal-
ity of the soul, however, and will endeavor to make it
more explicit. Through all the years of my life from
early infancy whatever came or occurred within the
sphere of my sense organs formed living memories or
analogues in my brain. The word " Soul " was perma-
nently formed as a living phonogram in intimate con-
nection with a certain class of these analogues or
memories, so that now this word to me is the living key
to them.
I have stated before that the nature of the soul is
form in living human brain-matter. Form can show
itself in matter, energy and feeling. It is as real a
thing as matter. Imagine we have a statue of Wash-
ington before us; let it be of bronze. Of what import
is the matter in it? Before the bronze was in the form
of the statue it was liquid in a ladle, and then had the
form of the hollow of the ladle. It always was bronze
in some form or other. But in speaking of bronze, or of
matter in general, we do not think of its form; the word
matter, therefore, stands for an abstraction* of a real
thing, including only a part of what makes up a real
thing. The statue or form, aside from its material,
which may be plaster of Paris or anything else, exists
also in the hollow of the mold in which the statue
was cast. Thus form stands for an abstraction or a part
of something real ; it is real, as much so as matter.
Speaking of form of energy, I imagine to have two
phonographs, and a speech recorded on the tin-foil of
the one; in the other the tin-foil is blank. The geomet-
rical line imagined as resulting from a longitudinal
section of the scratch in the tin-foil is the analogue to
the speech. Both phonographs are turned at the same
time. The scratch in the tin-foil of the first speaks; a
similar line is made in the tin-foil of the second. Both
now have the same geometrical line. What has taken
place between them during the operation? Energy,
coming formless, or rather uniform, from my arm mus-
cles in turning the phonograph, passed though the air
in vibrations corresponding to the geometrical line in the
tin-foil of the first phonograph and was received by the
second, producing the same geometrical line in its tin-
foil. Is not that what we call form in the undulating
geometrical line intimately associated with energy in
these vibrations? It must be — we have form asso-
ciated with energy.
Feelings are of different intensity, as one pain is
stronger than another. Single feelings may be of
longer or shorter duration, and between them there may
be definite intervals of time. Feeling's also differ among:
o to
themselves as various tastes or odors, or as those
* I am told that what I call an abstraction is usually called a generalization,
but abstraction is the more correct word. If a generalization is made, many
things having something in common are put together and what thev have in
common is specified in words. It is then forgotten that what thev do not have
in common disappears in the generalization. The same takes place in Galton's
composite photographs of the members of a family. Only that remains of the
several faces what they have in common. This implies that the composite pho-
tograph is entirely contained in each of the single photographs of each member,
each is the complete composite with additions. So in reality the composite
photograph is an abstraction — a part — of each of the single photographs.
If of a bronze statue and a bronze cube and a bronze sphere I make the gen-
eralization bronze, I in reality make an abstraction — the bronze is in each ot
them — the form is not noticed. If of the w< rds bronze, lead, iron and copper 1
make the generalization metal, I again make an abstraction. What the word
metal implies is in all of them, the other characteristics are omitted. If again of
the words metal, wood, water and air I make the so-called generalization matter,
I again in reality make an abstraction, what is meant by matter is completely
found in each of them.
394
THE OPEN COURT.
accompanying different musical notes. In this way I
speak of the feelings I have on hearing a melody, as
corresponding to the geometrical form of the line in the
tin-foil of a phonograph that records it.
If I am familiar with the melody, I hold that living
atoms in my brain have arranged themselves in a form
analogous to the longitudinal section of the scratch in the
tin-foil on my previously hearing it. This chain of
atoms is stimulated by and then feels the melody, that
is, is conscious of it. Separate chords of the melody
awaken other memories; the melody combines them.
The word soul in all who receive the usual religious
education is a living phonogram, a form in living nerve-
matter; it is a reality within us as much as the heart or
the lungs, and cannot be amputated as a hand can. I state
here that by a word I mean besides its own sound all
the associated memories thereby awakened. Most of
them are recorded in our brain as language in other
phonograms.
The common definition of the word soul compre-
hends what man is besides what he has in common
with the animal. We were taught that the animal
has no soul, and that everything common to both the
animal and man did not belong to the human soul.
But gradually it has been recognized that the animal
shares those qualities more or less which we have
regarded as characteristics of the soul of man. The
point is, that man has more soul than the animal.
Dr. Bock says in his book Vom gesunden und
kranken Menschen: " Durch der Sinne Pforten, zieht,
tier Geist in unsern Koerper (in das Gehirn ) ein."
[The soul enters our body (the brain) through the
gateway of the senses.] On another page he says:
"The healthy brain necessarily must by degrees develop
its reason through external impressions by means of the
senses, and this is the basis of education. If a man,
immediately after birth, were cut off from the world, he
could not attain an)' feature of human reason; and if a
man had intercourse onlv with animals his habits would
be those of animals."
How these external impressions are recorded in the
brain naturally becomes a problem. The photograph
at first suggested itself as an explanation. Think-
ing in pictures is a constant occupation of all mechan-
ical constructors and inventors. These pictures or
images must be living structures in the brain; as
active individuals they combine to more complicated
images. Drawing, model-making and trying to put
real things together arc direct helps in picture-thinking.
Language-thinking conies to aid at an early stage, how-
ever. I low language could record itself remained mys-
terious, it seemed so complicated, until a new light
was given by the invention of the phonograph, which
could reproduce speech. I had read in an article in the
Berlin Gegcnwart on The Origin of Reason, by Noire,
just about that time, '■'■Alan thi?iks because he speaks ;
he has concepts, because he has words/ " and how simplv
does the phonograph record words! That man's brain
can record language in as simple a way as the phono-
graph is undoubtedly one foundation of the progress of
man over the animal.
I have overcome any hesitancy to pronounce this my
opinion (which is likely shared by many others) so posi-
tively, by the course our increase of knowledge of the
working of the eye has taken. That the eye works like a
photographer's camera we learned already at school; that
in addition a liquid analogous to the photographer's
chemicals was active in the retina, fixing there for a short
time pictures thrown on it by the lens of the eye, we
learned not many years ago.
In the Revue PhilosopJiiquc for May, 1887, I find
A. Binet quotes a hypnotic state described for the first
time by Berger, of Breslau. If the crown of the head
of a somnambulistic subject is pressed strongly with the
hand his state is changed. lie no longer answers ques-
tions asked of him, but repeats them, like a phonograph.
He reflects like a mirror all gestures and movements
made before him; in short, he has become an automatic
imitator.
Among the erroneous ideas conveyed by the word
•' soul " is that of its transcendentality. This was so
deeply impressed into our brain that we hear it affirmed
within us again and again. We cannot destroy the
inner phonogram which in us speaks this erroneous
idea, but we can supplement the ideas now associated
with the word " soul " with ideas correcting those which
are erroneous among them.
We know the doctrine is erroneous that the soul is
born with the child, and also the belief that the soul
at the moment of death leaves the body as an invisible
substance; but it is still wore erroneous to dec/are oil
this account that man has no son/.
What the human soul is has been made clear to me
principally by the leading German author of our time- -
Gustav Freitag. He propounds his view of the immor-
tality of the soid in a dialogue which takes place between
Professor Werner and his wife Use.* Standing before
the shelves of his library he says about the books:
" They are the great treasure-keepers of the human
race. They preserve all that is most valuable of what
has ever been thought or discovered from one century
to another, and they proclaim what was once existing
upon the earth."
Anil further on the Professor explains how the souls
of men actually are in hooks:
" Since the invention of books almost all that zee know
and call learning is to be found in them. But that is not
all," he continued in a whispering tone; '■'■few knozv that
a book is something more than simply a product of the
*The l^jst Manuscript^ Rook II, Chapter -:.
THE OPEN COURT.
395
creative mind, which its author semis forth as a cabinet-
maker does a chair that has been ordered. '/here
remains attached, undoubtedly, to every hitman work
something of the son/ of the /nan who has produced it '.
But a hook truly contains under its cover tlte real soul
of the man. /lie real value of a man to others — the
best portion of his life — remains in this form for the
next generation, perhaps to the most distant future.
Moreover, not only those zvho write a good book, but
those whose lives and actions are portrayed in it, con-
tinue in fact living among us. II e con 'verse with
them as with friends and opponents ; we admire and
contend with, love or hate them, not less than if they
dwe/t bodily among us. 'J he human soul that is
inclosed in such a cover becomes imperishable on earth,
and therefore we may say : In the book lasts on the soul-
life of the individual, and only the soul which is incasea
in a book has reliable duration on earth." *
"But error persists also," said Use, "and so do liars
and impure spirits if they betake themselves into a book.'
■'They undoubtedly do, but are refuted by better
souls. Very different, certainly, is the value and im-
port of these imperishable records. Few maintain their
beauty and importance for all times; many are only val-
uable for a later period, because we ascertain from them
the character and life of men in their days, while others
are quite useless and ephemeral. But all books that
have ever been written, from the earliest to the latest, have
a mysterious connection. For no one who has written a
book has of himself become what he is; everyone stands
on the shoulders of his predecessor ; all that was pro-
duced before his time has helped to form his life ana
soul. Again, what he has produced has in some sort
formed other men, and thus his soul has passed to later
times. In this way the contents of all books form one
great soul-empire on earth, and all who now write-,
live and nourish t/iemselves on the souls of the fas
generations.
" From this point of view the soul of mankind is one
interminable unity. Every single individual belongs
to it he who lived and worked in past limes as well as
he who now breathes and creates new ideas. lite soul
which people of past generations felt as their own was
and is still transmitted to others. What has been writ-
ten to-day will to-morrow, perhaps, be the possession
of many thousand strangers. Who long ago returned
his body to nature, continues to live on earth in an
unceasingly renewed existence, and comes to new Ife
again daily in others"
" Stop," cried Use, entreatingly, " I am bewildered."
"I tell vou this now, because I feel myself an unos-
tentatious worker in this earthly soul empire. This
* In the translation of the quotations from Gusta\ Frietag I have used the
word soul for the German word " Gel<tV' I ini^ht have translated " Gri\t" bv
"spirit" or hv "mind," hut the word " soul " expresses lrul\ what I understand
the author to mean by the word " GeistV
feeling gives me a pleasure in life which is indestructible,
and it also gives me both freedom and modesty. For
whoever works with this feeling, whether his powers
be great or small, docs so not for his own honor, but for
all. He does not live for himself, but for all, as all who
have existed, continue to live for him."
The soul is the form of a very complicated, self-act-
ing mechanism of living matter, wdiich feels in a part
of the living substance which is in action; the feelings
correspond in form to the most essential parts of the
mechanism. From this living mechanism, which is our
soul, all we do, our knowledge, our thinking and human
emotions proceed. It comprises all that man esteems
highest in himself. Does this thought degrade the soul
conception? Not to me, although the word soul always
brings to consciousness in me what I value highest in
myself. But the word mechanism conveys a higher
meaning than before.
The conservation of energy has been demonstrated.
How is it with lifer A certain quantity of organic mat-
ter is exposed to sunlight under the conditions necessary
for life on the surface of the earth. There a certain
quantity of life function takes place; we see it in the lux-
urious growth in manifold forms in the tropic forest, as
well as in a less quantity but higher form in the brain
of civilized man. The total quantity of life on the
surface of the earth in the course of one year, if we
could measure it, I hold, would be found nearly the
same in one year as in another. It would be found to
vary with solar conditions only.
I will let Dr. Bock speak again.*
" 'Nature is one great living being,' is the thought-
ful dictum of a famous poet ; and, truly, whether your
inquiring mind dwells upon its nearest surroundings or
roams through the profundities of the universe, whether
it soars to the skies or descends into the depths of the
earth, you will find everywhere a constant change of
things, a process of consolidation and dissolution, of re-
generation and decay. What are these changes but life?
When death seems to annihilate its victims, new beings
rise out of seeming nothingness and if you compare
the simple forms which were destroyed some thousand
of years ago, with those more perfect organisms which
now exist, you will comprehend the truth of the words:
'Death is not death; death is the elevation of mortal
nature.' "
In our whole bodv, and so in the mechanisms in our
brain, the feeling (conscious), living matter is con-
stantly renewed by new feeling, living matter of the
same kind. The new living atoms constantly enter into
the relative positions of those which they replace, thus
preserving the form of the mechanisms, anil with that
our memory.
*This quotation from Dr. Bock's book is translated by Dr. Carus. Hiosi
id Gustav Freitag are hum Mrs. Malcolm's translation, revised and sup-
plemented
396
THE OPEN COURT.
I imagine I had died and another man was formed
of living matter, so that in him the atoms were in the
same relative position as in me; he would be my con-
tinuance, he would be the same man that I am, as I am
the same man that I was yesterday; he would know all I
know, would know every person I know and would be
known as I am. He would feel as I do, would act as I
do under the same circumstances, would give the same
answer to the same question; he would have the same
character, the same conscience, the same morals, he
■would have my soul.
Can we thus renew ourselves? Yes, we can to a
great extent. We can form our soul again in the grow-
ing generation through education and example, individ-
ually and collectively.
We can preserve and elevate the soul of the present
generation and of posterity. To preserve and to elevate
the quality of the human soul, that is the basis of ethics.
Let there also be more elevated souls in number, the
more the better, but the higher quality of the soul is the
primary aim of ethics.
Pleasure and pain in the higher man of the future
will, in quantity, probably be proportioned as now, but
their form, their quality, will change. The proportion
of pleasure and pain will be such as will accompany
man's greatest progress. For only those nations will
survive which remain at the head of civilization.
Whether life is worth living is not the question of
ethics, it is beyond our control. If civilized life does
not continue, savage life, or even the life of brutes,
will take its place. As long as the sun shines upon
our earth under similar conditions as now, so long the
same quantity of life will continue upon its surface.
SEPARATION OF CHURCH AND STATE.
STATE OF THE QUESTION IN FRANCE.
Part II.
BY ALBERT REVILLE, PROFESSOR IN THE COLLEGE OF FRANCE.
Thence, there are many grades in French Catholicism :
ist. Those who have remained believing and practicing
Catholics. 2d. Those who do not believe and scarcely
practice, but who have certain vague religious desires
which they essay to satisfy in the mystical pomps of
Catholicism, with the sentiment of art rather than of
faith. 3d. Those who regret that Catholicism should be
the traditional religion in France, but who do not think it
possible to react against this result of centuries, and who
let themselves make concessions that they know to be
desired by their feminine surroundings, and that they
look upon as clue to propriety and good taste. 4th
Those who applaud all attacks directed against the
Church, but who continue none the less to bring up their
children in Catholicism, who ask the priest for the con-
jugal rite, and who die under the administration of those
sacraments of the church that they have combatted all
their lives. 5th and lastly. Those who have broken with
it openly and radically, do not have their children bap-
tized, are married only before the Mayor, and desire for
themselves no other funeral rites than those that are
purely civil. I may add that these varieties exist, but
that they intermingle and pass one into the other in such
manner as to produce gradations infinite in number and
absolutely impossible to define.
But, in France, political ideas and tendencies are as
precise and dogmatic as religious beliefs are incoherent,
The democratic sentiment is very generally prevalent,
taking hold even of classes and individuals that, from
interest or tradition, ought to repudiate it. Republican
democracy is anti-Catholic, because Catholicism and its
clergy appear to be irremediably identified with the old
monarchical and aristocratic regime. There are, never-
theless, some democrats sincerely Catholic, but they are
very few in number. Ordinarily a French democrat
entertains a profound dislike of the Catholic Church, and
is much inclined — not to persecute it, but to take from
it all the support that it can still find in existing laws
and institutions. It might even be said that it is too
readily supposed that the actual power yet remaining
to Catholicism is based on the idea that it can depend
upon the State and its subsidies and its official protection
— wherein I believe that it deceives itself.
This republican democrat, then, is quite disposed to
clamor for the separation of Church and State; he
applauds the newspaper articles, the orators at public
meetings and the candidates for a seat in the Chambers,
who demand it. Neither are arguments wanting to jus-
tify the view he takes.
Notwithstanding, says he, that the French State of
to-day gives proof of greater tolerance than the old
rdgime, in supporting the three or four forms of religion
that share its territory in unequal proportions, by what
right does it make the ever-increasing number of those
who profess no distinct creed compete under this system?
Why must one necessarily be Catholic, Protestant, or
Jew, in order to share the budgetary favors of a govern-
ment that does not pretend to attach itself to an)' pro-
fessed religion ? Why are these advantages awarded,
with the money of all, to three or four sects, and refused
to new or dissenting worshipers who may come forward
and do sometimes appear? This is neither logical nor
just. Besides, what does the Republic effect in paying
bishops and cures? It maintains its sworn enemies and
puts into their hands the arms which they use for fight-
ing it. For, Roman Catholicism and its clergy are and
always will be inimical to liberty. The absolute author-
ity that they arrogate to themselves, their hostility
against independent science that recognizes no other
rule than experience and experimental method, the spirit
of weak submission that they spread about among the
people, the hesitation in thought and enterprise that they
THE OPEN COURT.
397
inspire, the sill}' superstitions that they patronize
(Lourdes, La Salette, the Sacre Cour), their horror of
free examination, their subjection to a foreign priest
always in sympathy with despotisms and oppressions —
all this makes the Catholic religion and its priesthood
the born adversaries of liberalism, of democracy, of the
Republic. The Republic, then, plays the part of a dupe
in continuing to support by its money and its patronage
an institution radically and fatally hostile to it. With-
out doubt, consciences must be respected and every one
must be left free to devote himself to the worship that
suits him, or to practice none at all if that pleases him
better. But let those who have need of the priest and
his ceremonial pay for them; and let the State, whose
sole mission is to safe-guard the liberty of all, rid itself
at length of this onerous obligation, which burden our
budgets from being evenly balanced, which is opposed
to the principles of justice and equality and which only
brings difficulties and embarrassments upon the Repub-
lic, still so sorely pressed.
It cannot be denied that these arguments are
extremely specious. But the other side must also be
heard. For, there are also politicians who advocate the
maintenance of the actual regime, in the very interest of
democracy and the Republic.
The)' say that in fact, whether it be matter for regret
or for congratulation, Catholicism is the religious form
to which the majority of Frenchmen are accustomed ■
and so thoroughly accustomed, that it is very difficult for
them to comprehend any others. The Frenchmen may
be skeptical, indifferent, incredulous — he is so frequently ;
but if, from one cause or another, the need of some
religion is awakened in his soul, nine times in ten it is
in Catholicism alone that he will dream of seeking its
satisfaction. Thence it follows that the Catholic Church,
albeit lessened in prestige and power and doomed
according to all appearances to be further and further les-
sened, still possesses much power notwithstanding. You
incline to sever the pecuniary and administrative tie that
binds it to the State; but, consequently, you are willing to
deprive the State of the supervision and control that the
existing system assures to it. Are you certain that you
will not thereby augment those embarrassments and
those dangers which you reproach the Republic with
encouraging and creating against itself? At the pres-
ent time the State is armed with laws that protect it
sufficiently well against the terrible sore of Catholicism,
that is to say, the convents and the inevitable abuses of
which they are always and everywhere the generating
hearth. But if the Catholic Church, by its separation
from the State, reconquers its entire liberty, what will
you do to prevent the increase in all directions of these
strongholds of obscurantism and superstition? How
will you hinder these establishments, that receive ever
and never give back, from imbibing slowly that which
is most solid and most secure in the public wealth, and
from reconstituting the scourge of the mort-main that the
Revolution had so much trouble in abolishing? The
bishops are to a certain point under the control of the
State, which can intervene when, through blind obedi-
ence to the Court of Rome, they adopt a course inimical
to national interests or public tranquility. But what
will you do, without mixing yourselves up in affairs that
do not concern you, when you have deprived yourselves,
by separation, of the arm that the concordat itself
assured you?
And then, have a care! Universal suffrage is the
rule; and this suffrage for the most part depends upon
the peasants who constitute the numerical majority of
the French nation. Now, the French peasant, save in
some departments, is not exactly clerical. He does not
like to see his cure dabbling in politics. One cannot
say that he is very devout. If he goes to mass on Sun-
day it is rather by way of distraction than from religious
need ; and the proof of this is that he very often remains
gossipping under the porch while his wife and children
are attending the service of the curd. But, besides that
he is not radically irreligious, vou will never persuade
him that he can dispense with the priest to baptize his
children, to teach them subsequently their catechism, to
bring them on to their first communion, to marry and
to bury himself. These things are done and seen in the
large towns; in the country they are unknown. What,
then, are you going to do? The State will no longer
pay the cure of the village; so be it! You will tell the
peasant that his taxes will be diminished by so much.
That is not unwelcome to him. But you will add that,
if he desires to have a cure he must himself pay for
him. Ah, then his countenance changes! The French
peasant is very thrifty; he works hard and does not will-
ingly part with the money that he has so much trouble
to gain. Be sure that he will answer you : " Much
obliged ! I shall not pay one centime less to the receiver,
because, away there in Paris they will apply to other
purposes the forty or fifty millions that they talk of
withdrawing from the clergy, while I into the bargain
shall still have to pay my curd. Your most obedient!
Let's say no more about it!"
Thus vou would run considerable risk of indisposing
toward the republican regime the peasant who has
reluctantly allied himself to the Republic, but who
has become allied to it, being out of conceit with kings and
emperors. You attack simultaneously his predilec-
tions and his pocket. Nothing could be more danger-
ous; and wisdom counsels the maintenance of the actual
state of things for a long time yet, while endeavoring to
ameliorate them, and the proceeding only by slow de-
grees and with circumspection to measures preliminary
and preparatory to this great change.
39«
THE OPEN COURT.
I believe that I have thus summed up with impar-
tiality and moderation the arguments that are put forth
on one side and the other. This also may be here
remarked : the partisans of separation are the stronger,
so long as they hold only to democratic and abstract
theory ; while its opponents recover the advantage when
one comes down to practical application. This explains
why the men of the Extreme Left, more idealistic, more
prompt, more radical in their manner of treating politi-
cal questions, are almost without exception in favor of
immediate separation, while the Republicans termed
Opportunists, that is to say more administrative, more
realistic, look upon it with suspicion as a danger. And
inasmuch as the exercise of power always inclines men
to moderate the absolutism of their principles, we under-
stand why so many eminent politicians, Gambetta for
instance, or Mr. Goblet, who were reckoned among the
notorious partisans of separation, when once they had
become ministers, recoiled from the immense difficulties
that would have resulted from carrying it out.
I repeat it; it is on political and not on religious
grounds, that this qestion will be solved in France. If
the actual Republic were to perish and be replaced by
a monarchy, royal or imperial, separation would assuredly
be postponed till the Greek calends. If the Republic
maintains itself the problem of separation will triumph
in the end, because it conforms to the logic of a veritable
democracy. But if it be wished that it should be put
into operation without difficulty and without danger, the
minds of the masses, especially in the country, must be-
more fully prepared than they are now. If advanced
Radicalism comes into power, perhaps the change may
he hastened by the necessity, in which the radical chiefs
will find themselves, of realizing or at least of endeavor-
ing to realize this part of their programme so much
preached up. But all this, it will be seen, is problem-
atical; and if one may regard the principle of separation
as destined to triumph, one da}' or another, by the sole
force of republican and democratic logic, no one can now
declare when the day of triumph will come, still less
predict the events which may advance or retard it.
I'ai is, July, 1.S.S7.
TOLSTOI AND PRIMITIVE CHRISTIANITY.
BY U. D. GINNING.
•' My Religion," from the pen of Tolstoi, should make
a deep impression cm the Christian Church. This Rus-
sian Count shows that ]esus laid the emphasis of Chris-
tianity on a few simple precepts. Resist not evil. L
a man smite you give him the other cheek for another
smiting. " The I lebrew s,"says Tolstoi, "in applying the
Mosaic law to life, were obliged to observe six hundred
and thirteen commandments, many of which were
absurb ju<\ cruel and vet all were based on the authority
of 1 be Scriptures. The doctrine of life as expressed by
Tesus is comprised in five commandments. Be not
angry. Resist not evil. Take no oath. Lay not up
treasure. Judge not."
This Russian, who is a scholar as well as a count, in
reelucing Christianity to such simple terms, makes his
position very clear. In the injunction " judge not," the
word Kpivu is used and it always applies to the passing of
judgment in a court of justice. What Jesus meant — and
what he said by using this Greek verb — was, " Have
nothing to do with the administration of justice."
" Be not angry." In the New Testament this com-
mand is qualified by the adjunct " without a cause."
The qualification kills the injunction. But the little
Greek word eurf, which means " without cause," does not
appear in the older manuscripts. Some angry Chris-
tian, in the third or fourth century amended Jesus by
slipping in the word e'uaj. So with the other injunctions.
They were simple, direct and without qualification. Let
us concede that in the New Testament Jesus is fairly
reported, then Tolstoi has the argument. Jesus meant
that the course of human life is all wrong, radically
wrong.
But a scholar might say to Tolstoi, " Your argument
based on the words reported as coming from Jesus is
fallacious. He spoke in Aramaic, a very barren and
physical language. After many years had passed he
was reported in Greek, a metaphysical language.
What force can attach to a criticism on words which he
never used? Of what force is any verbal criticism on
these ancient writings? Remember that accuracy in
reporting or quoting came only with accuracy in think-
ing, that is, with science. Not a writer in the New Tes-
tament quoted correctly from the Old. One of the early
church dignitaries makes Solomon say, " He who always
fears the wind will never sow." Shakespeare makes
"the Scripture" say that "Adam eligged." Shakes-
peare never ciuotes the Bible correctly. In New Hamp-
shire— so it has been told to me — lives a farmer who
heard Forrest in Richard the Third. The tragedian
broke on his audience with Richard's soliloquy :
" Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer
by this sun of York."
The farmer's report to his neighbors was this: "Forrest
seemed a good deal down in the mouth. He said that in
the winter he wasn't contented but he thought that next
summer when his son got back to New York he would
feel a little better." The farmer reported Richard much,
I think, as the writers called Matthew, Mark, Luke and
Tohn reported certain of the sayings of Jesus. John
reports a short speech to a Samaritan woman on the curb
of Jacob's well. Can we believe that the pinions which
bore him up into the celestial blue^ where above all lim-
itations of race and time he formulated the absolute
religion, should strike at once on the lower air and he
should say, "Salvation is of the Jews ?"
THE OPEN COURT.
399
But let it pass. Assuming that we have the words
of Jesus fairly reported Tolstoi is right and the Chris-
tian is he who never gets angry, never takes an oath,
resists not evil, never passes judgment in a court and lays
not up treasure. Where is he ? As I have never seen
Tolstoi, I never saw him. Is he possible? Is even Tol-
stoi' a real Christian? He writes in a vein of righteous
anger against the abuses of the Russian church and gov-
ernment. Was Jesus a faultless primitive Christian?
When he launched his invectives against the Pharisees and
when he lashed the money changers in the temple was
he without a tinge of anger? Tolstoi' says that the Disci,
pies obeyed these injunctions. Did they? Was Paul
never angry at Peter? Was he in a very placid mood
toward Peter and Tames and Jude when, at fever heat,
he threw off the epistle to the Galatians? It may be
that the injunction, " Be not angry," requires too much
of human nature, but at the bar of ethical science it will
stand and without a qualifying adjunct. Be not angrv.
No cause will justifv you. Anger is one of the oldest
emotions. Cope places it as third or fourth in the his-
torv of evolution. It appeared as soon as a mind could
feel resistance to desire. It passed from the animal to
the human and is part of the old jungle stuff we are try-
ing to throw off. It does no good — which is another
way of saying that it brings no pleasure — to the heated
mind which indulges it or to the person for whom it is
indulged.
" Resist not evil." There is something pathetic in
the plea for this injunction by a nobleman who, all his
life, as he now thinks, has done evil and resisted evil-
Through all time — this is the spirit of his argument
— the world has fought evil with evil. Men have tried
to put down wrong by resisting wrong. The experi-
ment has failed. There was a teacher who told us to
overcome evil with compliance and to oppose to the
wrongdoer neither force nor law. The world has given
him no heed. Those who profess discipleship do not
obey. But this teacher was divine and the world will
never be healed until it sees that the whole trend of its
life has been wrong and it obeys this divine precept.
It is painful to find yourself not in mental accord
with good men. But this piteous appeal to the world
by a good man to heed certain injunctions uttered by the
best of men is wrong or the whole universe is wrong.
The first word which nature ever spoke was " resist-
ance." One- half of organic nature is equipped for
aggression and the other half for resistance. If the
primitive mollusk had vielded its pulpy body to the
invading tooth there would be no mollusk to-day. If
better men of the prime had vielded to the club and
spear of worse men, there would be no social order or
civilization to-day. In vertebrate land-life there was
one line on which nature moved obedient to the precept
.of non-resistance. Setting the body on limbs and lifting
it up over the ground by many anatomical devices,
nature resisted the pull of gravitation. In one order of
reptiles she tired of resistance and by abolishing the
limbs yielded to gravitation. The result of this non-
resistance was the snake. I like not the backward steps
in evolution which led to the serpent. I like not the
sight of virtue on its belly before vice. In the school of
Bronson Alcott, when a boy had done a bad thing he
was made to take the whip and flog the philosopher.
Very different is the school at which nature has been
educating man. If human history has been a stream of
tendency making for righteousness it is because the whip,
in the main, has been in the hand of the wiser and the
better. As soon as man woke to the knowledge of good
and evil the voice of religion sounded through his mind,
" Resist evil." Buddha did a wrong thing to himself and
the world when he fed himself to a tiger. Resist the
evil within you and the evil directed toward you, and
resist by whatever means will be effective. You cannot
resist gravitation by kind words. You must meet it on
its own line and use push against pull. You cannot
resist the infestations that swoop down in myriad mouths
on your field or garden, with prayer or incantation or
any manner of saintliness. You must meet destruction
with destruction. You must destroy the destroyer. The
mollusk has developed a shell and man has developed
law.
Time was when men were without law but the law
of nature spoke in the smitten, and he said, "I will smite
the smiter." " An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth."
The old Mosaic law was close to the older law of
nature. There came the struggle for law. Ihering
has shown how fierce was that struggle. To-day, if vou
belong to any civilized people on the globe, vou can
recover your stolen propertv from whatever hands may
hold it. This which is common law now, was one of
the oldest written laws of Rome, but before a Roman
senate wrote it law men had fought it into law, hand to
hand, club to club, spear to spear. Now that we have
law — as much the outcome of struggle as the claw on a
tiger's foot — when a man smites you you need not smite
him, but let the law smite. When a man takes away
your coat you must not give him your overcoat, nor
strike him, but you must sue him at the law. This is
still resisting evil by force. For law, as Ihering says,
is an idea which involves force. If Justice holds the
balances in one hand she holds a sword in the other.
And if it was the duty of the man who lived before " the
reign of law " to resist wrong by the force in his own
arm, it is tenfold your duty to resist it by the force we
have put into the arm of law. If you do not resist you
wrong the State. You inflict a hurt on civilization.
The surrender of legal rights is moral suicide. " When
a man has made a worm of himself," says Kant, " he
has no right to complain if he is trampled under foot."
400
THE OPEN COURT.
While Tolstoi maintains, very strangely, that Jesus
taught there would be no conscious individual life beyond
the grave, he lays strong emphasis on the command of
Jesus to his Disciples to give little heed to the life that
now is. " Get you no silver nor gold nor brass in your
purses; no wallet for your journey, neither two coats nor
shoes." This, argues the Count, is good Scripture and
the world will never be happy till it obeys. It is very
miserable. Search it from pauper to millionaire and you
will find no happiness — till you reach the bare walls of
a cabin in which a Russian count is mending his home-
spun pantaloons.
Let the hurt on human life be even as Tolstoi thinks,
is healing to come from primitive Christianity? After
eighteen hundred years of Christianity are we to try
Christianity? Poverty was the morning curse of
humanity, and still it is the curse at mid-day. If some
other intelligence were to study man as we study an ant-
hill, he would take him in the aggregate. He would
sav : " This species, spread over almost all the world,
numbers about fourteen hundred millions, a number less
than the infusoria in a cupful of stagnant pond water.
Of these about two hundred and fifty millions are with-
out a shred of clothing, and seven hundred millions are
clothed only in their loins. The nude hold a majority
over the clad. I believe this bipedal mammal calls
himself homo sapiens, but taking him in the aggregate
the better name would be homo sylvestris, for only the
more favored have got out of the woods. The creature
seems to toil, but he remains poor. He is improvident.
He does not " take thought enough of to-morrow."
The reformer is too often the man who takes little
thought of yesterdav. But we are made of yesterdays,
and the line on which evolution has moved in the past,
on the same line it is moving now, and must forever
move. The ostrich, in structure and habits, represents
a primitive bird which improvidently laid her eggs on
the sand and had no thought of the morrow. Evolu-
tion, leaving the ostrich behind as a work of rigidity,
carried other birds up into provident nest-making. A
reformer among birds seems to be the swallow. It does
not proclaim the gospel of the ostrich, but, according to
Pouchet, it is learning a better art of nest- making than
its ancestors had. You may as well expect a deflection
of the line on which evolution has moved with the bird
as deflection of the line on which it has carried man.
Nearly three hundred millions of the human race build
no homes and have no shelter except what nature affords
in clefts and caves. They are the ostriches of men.
The Hebrews called that bird with primitive ways "the
daughter of howling," and these primitively unclad,
unhoused men are the "sons of howling." They are
miserable. Evolution, outworking on men, now that
its chief factor is mind, is synonymous with progress,
and it leads away from the nature housed, not toward
them.
Let the reformer be radical, but not too radical. Let
him heed the advice of Emerson and " hitch his wagon
to a star," and not to one of those celestial tramps called
comets. This is only an Emersonian way of saying —
Move with the great cosmic flow. Do not break with
the universe. Do not think to reform the law of grav-
itation. Work with t..e better forces which are out-
working through nature and through the minds of men.
If you are following the pull of the great stars in the
moral firmament you will resist evil, and you will put
a reasonable sum of gold and silver in your purse, and
provide " a wallet for your journey."
MONISTIC MENTAL SCIENCE.
BY S. V. CLEVENGER, M. D.
INTRODUCTORY SURVEY.
The discovery of the laws of evolution (natural and
sexual selection, the mutability of species, etc.) gave an
impetus to the study of plant and animal life, during
the past quarter century, through that study being, for
the first time, afforded definiteness and a promise of
positive reward in the way of clearing up mysteries and
enabling life phenomena to be scrutinized chemically
and mechanically, by re-agents, the microscope and the
balance. The promise has been abundantly fulfilled.
Physiological laboratories and classes are yearly increas-
ing, and it is safe to predict that biology will not only
supplant the classics but will be made the main instruc-
tion from the primary school to and through the univer-
sity.
Why this will occur can be readily explained: All
there is apparent in the universe is apprehended by our
senses. If we understand our senses, ourselves and our
surroundings, more perfectly, a better adjustment can be
made to nature; our lives can be made more fruitful,
happier, healthier to ourselves and our neighbors.
The monistic philosophy, rightly interpreted, ex-
plains what you can and cannot do and know. It is
thoroughly unified knowledge. The absurdity that
there was one set of laws for man, and another for
everything else, animate or inanimate, evolutionism has
fully shown. Monism is a logical inference from biol-
ogy and is the basis of right living — ethics, because
through it we realize the advantages and disadvantages
resulting from certain conduct in the light of invariable
cause and effect.
There is a growing appreciation of the soundness of
ethical principles based upon biological research, but it
is sad to see the confusion arising from biases and unsys-
tematic study of these principles. Metaphysically and
theologically educated writers often realize much of the
grandeur of evolutionism, but they are, as a rule, so hope-
lessly handicapped by cherished unmeaning phrases —
THE OPEN COURT.
401
language disease — and teleology (the purposiveness of
creation), that the sprigs of truth in their writings are
hidden among the rank weeds or pretty flowers of
rhetoric. It is fashionable to have read two of Spen-
cer's works, his Education and The Data of Ethics.
Ethical societies usually advance the last named book as
containing the summum bonum of monism, but unless
the entire Synthetic Philosophy has been perused pre-
viously it is as valueless as a trigonometrical treatise
would be to one who had not learned the multiplication
table. Ethics is founded upon the stud}- of sociology.
Society is composed of individuals, to understand whom
requires a knowledge of psychology, which can only be
acquired through physiology. All these branches con-
cern man, but the life histories of plants and animals
generallv must be included in a study of physiology-
Physics and chemistry are the keys to physiology as
well as to other studies. Thus is indicated what should
be mastered by one who seeks to realize the relations of
body and mind and the conservation of individual and
social enjoyment.
An author must assume a plane upon which to meet
his readers. Language being the vehicle of ideas, it
does not follow that linguists, rhetoricians, elocutionists
are the best comprehenders or expositors of science
(from scio, I know), for vehicles and words may be
empty or full of trash. Latin was, formerly, the general
container of book knowledge, but a dead tongue could
not tell of living, growing, multiplying ideas. The old
languages were broken up to make new wagons for the
accumulating wealth of information.
Therefore while the classically educated person is
equipped for learning science, he merely vapors if he
attempt to teach it before he has learned it.
Notwithstanding Max Midler's dictum that thought
is impossible without language your linguist must get
his ideas before he can express them in words; the baby
gets the impression of the dog by sight and hearing first,
before he calls it "bow-wow," or before he is taught to
call it dog.
Clearly, then, a teacher of science, with chemistry
and physics as arguments, cannot appeal to the meta-
physicians nor the theologians who are usually unprovided
with elementary knowledge of mundane things. But
they will deny that it is necessary to know chemistry or
natural science to deal with theology or metaphysics.
True enough, but as the natural sciences now include
not only what concerns man but his mind and social re-
lations, it follows that the theologian and metaphysician
never can, as such, fathom psychology and that their
methods cannot deal with the mind.
If they treat of subjective phenomena they are in
the plight of a clock that would call the jars of its cog-
wheels, spirit, mind, thought. If objective matters are
considered by them, their methods are those of the
savage who studies the wheezes, puffs, snorts, whistlings,
rattle, groan.of a locomotive, observes its wheels revolve,
its surprising speed, and, content with knowing zchat it
does, is incapable of understanding the how and why,
because not accustomed to analyze machinery or com-
prehend its principles. The savage assigns a spirit to
the engine, as the dualist does to man, and both are satis-
fied that all things are thus explained. It seems aston-
ishing the belief could survive to-day that mind exists
independant of its organ, the brain, or that it is useless
to study the mechanism of thought because of a super-
stitious fancy that there is some tertimn quid that can
never be apprehended.
We need not quarrel with those who imagine that
mind or spirit is independent of brain tissue or other
material, but we can postulate physical force and matter
as sufficient, and see whether it drives us into absurdities
or affords consistencies, which Descartes, Hume, Bacon,
and even Aristotle, would, if they could, to-day acknowl-
edge to be the best test of truth. In fact consistency is
all that holds any theory unassailable.
Is it, then, only the chemist and physicist who can
understand psychology ? In its completeness, yes, pro-
viding biology be studied by them. But any one who has a
fair elementary acquaintanceship with these studies can
appreciate the force of arguments dealing with them,
all the more readily when such men as Huxley or Tyn-
dall essay explanations, as they have done. Bain may
be fairly regarded as the pioneer in physiological pys-
chology, but, as was the case with Carpenter and
Maudsley, without detracting a particle from the value
of their writings, it can be said that opportunity, bias,
education, and the difficulty with which so recent and
vast a discovery as evolution can be assimilated by one
advanced in years, prevented them, and to some extent
now prevents Ribot, Bastian, Mivart and other popular-
izers from benefiting more than they have by what had
been worked out through specialists under their very-
noses.
Herbert Spencer and Wundt are the giants in psy-
chology. Their works cannot become popular because
of their terminology and the extensive knowledge of
nature presupposed for the reader.
Spencer's unprecedented catholicity and encyclo-
pedic knowledge covered generalizations in psychology,
and, as Proctor says, specialists must not find fault with
his want of detail, any more than we should regard a
map as faulty because it represented cities by little
circles instead of precise pictures.
Wundt, the better physiologist, has taken up the
mechanics of psychology more accurately and completely
than Bain and more extensively than Spencer, because
Wundt figuratively and literally used the microscope
over areas Spencer had rapidly glanced at with his intel-
lectual telescope.
402
THE OPEN COURT.
Subdivisions of these biological studies among an
army of rank and file, with its commanders, carry the
conquests along ramifying roads to subsequently organ-
ize the knowledge captured for the benefit of all.
Meynert, in Vienna, has sliced the brains of thou-
sands of animals and men with his microtome, and
described what the microscope reveals therein. He leads
a regiment of cerebral microscopists. Exner, with a
corps of other pathologists, seeks the effects of disease
upon the brain. Von Gudden, Monk, Ferrier contend,
through experiments and comparison of results, over the
physiological interpretations of functions of different
parts of the brain. Heubner and Duret simultaneously
discovered an important principle in the distribution of
blood to the brain, which explained many peculiarities
of mental disorders, and so on might be enumerated list
after list of distinguished men who are doing the work
that does the most good, but of which the world seldom
hears and less often appreciates.
The scientific method of teaching is from the known
to the unknown. The logical arrangement of biology
is from the lower forms of life to the higher; but, as
general readers have about as indefinite ideas of the
human brain as they have of protozoa, and a vast amount
of space and time can be saved by beginning with the
lower manifestations of life and mind, it will be an
advantage to so commence.
In simplifying the language used by biologists and
outlining, rather than elaborating, a subject so vast as
that which concerns life, much difficulty is encountered,
for the technical terms often put into few words what
would require hours to explain, and there is an appar-
ent forfeiture of accuracy in condensing, while the
greater part that bears upon the matter must be left
unmentioned.
Let us do the best we can.
It seems to me that a medical student with a philo-
sophical turn of mind would be led by degrees into
mechanical monism, thus:
The bones are levers and fulcra to move the body
about; the muscles pull upon these and bring them into
changing relations with each other. The muscles hence
serve as ropes and pulleys. The nerves stimulate the
muscular movements, and the similarity between the
nervous and a telegraphic system is marked. But what
is the nature of this nerve force? Can we or can we not
understand it? Is it a physical force at all? Certainly
the most sensible way to deal with this problem is to
study it out just as you would any matter that promised
to yield much, if not all, information to the microscope,
the scale-- and the measure.
Fritz Miiller was theologically biased; he felt that
Darwin's theory was incorrect, and to enable him to
know that it was, and to prove it, he adopted the reductio
ad absurdum reasoning from self-made investigations,
but being honest and accomplished, brought out one of
the best proofs of the evolutionary theory we possess.
Democritus, 500 B.C., suggested the mechanical nature of
animate things, and Giordano Bruno, a.d. 1600, ampli-
fied the idea, and was burned at the stake. Lesser,
though as effective, discouragements have prevailed
against mechanical biology even to this day, when
everywhere we find teleological, dualistic assertions
argued from, and but feeble support for the opposite
views.
My claim is that teleology and dualism have led to a
most abominably muddled psychology. From the dys-
teleological and monistic side the greatest victories may
be won for knowledge. Fully admitting that there is
an "unknown," and allowing those disposed to discuss
it in appropriately unknowable terms; granting also
that the ultimate nature of physical forces and matter
are not understandable, surely if we postulate that those
same forces and elements are all there is in life, for argu-
ment's sake, we are entitled to a patient hearing; and if
the charge is made that a conception of life and mind is
by such assumption degraded, we can retort with the
query — By what right do you consider force and matter
degraded or unworthy of containing life and mind in
potential? By your own admission you allow life,
mind, matter and force to have sprung from the same
source!
In published papers collected in book form* I dealt
with the inextricably dependent relations of mind and
body , by following out the evolution of the different tis-
sues, including the brain structures. As these chapters
are limited to main issues in mental operations, want of
space forbids more than a reference to the associated
topics. Starting with the desire to reduce everything to
proximate principles, the task of every philosophy, we
pass from Galen to 1523, when Fallopius explained what
the former meant by his " partes si 'milares" or usitn-
pliccs" which were bone, membrane, vein, artery, nails,
hairs and skin. Finally the cellular theory dawned, in
this century, and these proximate divisions have given
way to the positive knowledge that all animal parts
proceed from simple protoplasmic cells by growth, mul-
tiplication and differentiation. All plants and animals
are known to be composed of cells, little particles or
specs of protoplasm that have undergone modifications,
but in the main the cell shape and properties are observ-
able by the microscope in all tissues.
Chemistry takes this fundamental cell and finds that
its protoplasm is hydrogen, oxygen, carbon, mainly, with
sometimes other elements in combination.
Herbert Spencer plainly sets forth the unity of all
nature; particularly when he shows that sociological
matters partake of and depend upon the peculiarities of
* Comparative Physiology and Psychology, 1SS5, published by J. C. McClurg
& Co., pp. 247.
THE OPEN COURT.
403
the units, the individuals that compose it. He also indi-
cates forcibly the similarity of the laws and phenomena
of the inorganic and organic, but he does not fully
identify psychological with chemical principles.
In subsequent papers of this series my endeavor will
be to show that not only is there a relationship between
all that is done by the body and mind of man and other
animals, and the behavior of chemical elements, hut that
the former depends upon the latter, and is merely a dif-
ferent expression of the same thing. We think and
move about because nitrogen tends to escape from molec-
ular combinations, and oxygen, on the contrary, seeks
to unite with them; and, for similar reasons, we are
born, eat, grow, reproduce and die. Because of the dis-
position like and unlike elementary atoms have to unite to
form molecules we hunger and love — the two feelings
that control the world, as Schiller poetically affirms.
An application of chemistry can even explain why one
of these feelings may sacrifice the other.
The affinity of atoms for one another may be taken
as the cause of hunger; the higher affections may be
shown to have sprung from hunger by positive illustra-
tions; and, finally, an ethical application can be made to
show that the insane often merge every higher desire
into acquisitiveness, or a beastly food hunger; or that by
mind degeneration atavism, or its failure to develop,
in certain respects, beyond savagery, every regard for
virtue, honor, love, even self-respect, may be lost in the
craving for money, which represents the means of ani-
mal gratification.
Nor is this knowledge useless, for it bids you lift
yourself above bartering the best part of you, sentiment
and honor, for a price. It tells you that you may pay
too dearly for "peace and comfort" by insuring for
yourself and progeny moral death. From these and sim-
ilar considerations we may conceive of the foundation
and some of the superstructure of a practical psychology
based upon chemistry.
CHATS WITH A CHIMPANZEE.
BY MONCCRE D. CONWAY.
Part VI.
On my next visit to my Sage of the Monkey Tem-
ple he beckoned me after him, and led the way through
a back court to *a sort of covert behind a tank. There I
found a shelf on which were a dozen palm leaves like
those which had been destroyed on the previous day.
" I do not," he said, " mean to trust these to the Ape-
god, nor to the apes, nor their worshippers. It may be
well enough for the litany to the Angry Ape to perish,
but these are more important. They are leaves from
the lost library of the only human race that really pos-
sessed the earth — living neither above it or beneath it."
" Did they have a great library ? "
" Very large. But in the long war, between the
intellectual and physical giants and the Ape-god and his
humanlike angels, many books were destroyed."
" I listen."
" Here is a leaf of history : ' The world was fair
before the Ape-god cursed it. Man had still many
obstructions to confront, but with every season of his
growth they folded beneath him and withered, leaving
a contribution to his swelling fruit. Already he was liv-
ing in a world of his own creation. By his art grasses
had grown into vegetables, poisonous almonds into
peaches, gourds into melons. The tiger had been tamed
to a kitten, the wolf domesticated to a dog. The hope
of man climbed daily to further fulfillments, itself remain-
ing illimitable. It appeared that men would domesti-
cate the whole world and make it into the image of a
perfect man. But all this was arrested when the priest-'
hood arose and mankind were trained to cower before
the forces they had been steadily mastering. No more
could diseases be comprehended and extirpated when
they were believed to be inflicted by an invisible power
with which man could not cope. No longer could
humanity command the resources of wealth when it was
divided between hungry altars and famished families.
Science could no more work its miracles when they
were declared audacious attempts to alter the laws of
God or to seize His prerogative of modifying His own
order. Man grew lean while the priesthood waxed
fat. It requires much to feed a god. He devours
briers and thistles and wild things, as man devours things
that are civilized. So where man had planted a garden
the multiplying gods demanded that thorns and thistles
should grow. The tiller of the soil was branded.' Here
the palm leaf ends."
"That is a melancholy page," I said. "Could not
such men suppress their priesthood? There must have
been many who saw through their superstitions, and
foresaw the degradation that must follow."
"Yes, there were giants in the earth — intellectual,
moral, scientific, even physical giants — and they waged
war against the gods. But they were too humane
to fight with the ferocity of the gods and their
myrmidons; they tried to meet violence with reasons.
But that which was not built by reason cannot be pulled
down by reason. Superstition had entrenched itself in
powerful class interests, and was able to breed and train
a race of its own. The unbelievers were killed off, the
believers survived and propagated their species. The
men of science and thought would have been at once
entirely exterminated had they not exiled themselves.
They went off and built a great city. They left behind
them a great many scriptures. These were burnt by
the priests."
" What a pity! how precious they would now be! "
I said.
" There were some women, it appears, who secretly
4°4
THE OPEN COURT.
sympathized with the thinkers who had gone. While
the burning of books was going on they pretended to
feed the flames, but they preserved some bits of the
inscribed leaves. One or two sentences of each had
survived the fire, and these were secretly copied on other
leaves. But they were generally without order or con-
nection. A century or so later, when the descendants
of the giants were brought back as captives, one of
these got hold of the charred remnants of the ancient
library and from them gathered a number of sentences
and proverbs. On the night before he was offered as a
burnt offering to the Ape-gods (there were many of them
by this time), he gave his manuscript to an ancestor of
my own and it has been carefully preserved to this day."
The Chimpanzee drew from the shelf, with extreme
care, several palm leaves, and read — at times not with-
out emotion — what were called —
SCRIPTURES INSPIRED BY MAN.
Man is an incarnate word.
Man's development was arrested when he was forbidden free
speech about reproduction.
Our satyrs work freely in the realm of silence.
Every true word is productive.
So far as one is dead in this world he dreams of another.
A fool, laying up for a rainy day, makes every day rainy.
What men call heaven is a moon shining by contrast with
earth's darkness.
He that loseth this life, why will he not lose every other?
Farther worlds were wasted on him who dwells only in a
closet of this.
The nightingale is actual, the angel possible.
The diamond is a pebble till polished.
T he thorn came by natural, the rose by human, purpose.
The Brahmin turned brier to rose for Vishnu; his son stole it
for a maid; the rosy god was born.
The happy hour never ends.
Why mourn a departed dawn which has left its flush on mv
rose ?
Why mourn a faded rose that still blushes on my bride's
cheek?
In all sacred books are heard the cries of gods to be born of
woman.
Love is the unborn babe pleading to see the light.
Marriage at an altar is a ceremony preliminary to sacrificing
children on it.
Whoso begets a child sentences an innocent man to death.
A morning star fell from heaven that it might bear light to
man at his midnight.
With every babe some god or demon is born.
Love's eyes are bandaged lest he foresee and refuse existence.
All religion begins with man cowering before nature; it
should end with nature bending before man.
Be not angry with the gods, they know not what they do.
Does any god know? then pity his anguish of remorse.
Not one cowrie for the rich god, but laks of gold for the
poor one.
A poor god sat under the Bo Tree; another, they say, hung
on its crossed limbs.
When man had created a melon he asked pardon of the
power that made the gourd.
The fear of God is the beginning of folly.
" Run for the doctor ! my child is in danger of going to para-
dise ! "
Gods raged with jealousy while Buddha was fed with rice
not exacted.
Never did altar receive a gift of love.
A race must be consumed to fatten a god.
The old god said to the new, " Sit on my right;" but on the
left beats the heart.
From every sin a virtue grows.
" Surely that last sentence is a paradox," I ex-
claimed, as the Sage folded away his palm leaves.
"What does it mean?"
"Sin is the transgression of divine as distinguished
from human law. There could be no such distinction
if divine were one with human law. If, then, any law
is imposed, not by man or for man, only for the gods,
their priests, and temples, they are arbitrary laws; they
are ordered by privilege. Obedience to them implies
fear, abjectness, meanness; in every act of conformity
some part justly due to mankind is betrayed to a class.
Disobedience implies courage, freedom, justice. Out of
every sin — that is, transgression of arbitrary, unequal, and
class law — grows some virtue, some manly force which
helps to liberate the reason and resources of man for the
benefit of man. For man can owe nothing to any god;
if he pay god anything it were out of what he owes
man."
"But alas for the city!" I cried, ready to weep.
" Why, with walls of such precious stones, could it not
stand ? "
" Well, it was too beautiful, its people too happy.
The gods — I mean the priests, through whom those
phantoms act on the world — the gods went out to see
the city and the towers built by those men who had
refused to worship them. And they said : ' Behold
these people are one; they all dwell in homes such as
with us are reserved for gods; their houses equal our
temples. And this is but the beginning of what they
will do. Nothing will be withholden from them.
Their science will give them power; their towers com-
mand our country. What if they should assail our
comfortable heaven and deliver the slaves who support
our power? We must act while we are still the
stronger.' So they invaded the beautiful city, cast down
its towers, and took its inhabitants captive."
" But might not these captives yet combine and teach
and leaven the lump of lower humanity which had
absorbed them?"
" Ah, the gods were too clever for that. Their own
country had swarmed with people; married while chil-
dren, they passed their lives in reproducing their childish-
ness in other forms. In this way a vast country had been
covered and different dialects of speech developed, so that
the different provinces could not understand each other.
Now the gods took these captives who had been of one
language, and carefully divided and distributed them
THE OPEN COURT.
4°5
through regions where they would he compelled to use
different languages. The generations of them that fol-
lowed them could not combine nor co-operate. They
could build no more cities. Was not that a master-
stroke?"
" Yes, for a devil."
" It is perfectly true that by a perfect mutual under-
standing mankind could reach the heaven of pious
dreams and wield powers attributed to gods. Now that
the language of these men, representing both their indi-
vidual and their co-operative existence, was broken up,
their civilization survived only as a torture. What could
they do?"
"What did they do? "
" The sun is low."
RELIGION AND SCIENCE.
BY DR. PAUL CARUS.
In The Open Court (No. 13) the question was
raised by Mr. Lewis G. Janes: "Can religion have a
scientific basis?" He quotes the opinion of a friend,
who says: "There can be no such thing as the discov-
ery of a scientific basis for religion, and, therefore, the
attempt to establish religion on a scientific basis is
declared to be illogical and certain in the nature of
things to be defeated." In opposition to this statement
Mr. Lewis G. Janes expresses his view that it does
not so appear to him. He thinks that the establishment
of a religion on a scientific basis is a great and noble
aim, and he concludes: "Fronting a vision, so grand
and beautiful, shall we not all press forward in the
line indicated by The Open Court, and strive for its
speedy realization?"
Yes, we shall! And I gladly notice that there are
many prominent men on both sides of the Atlantic who
join to participate in our work. I heartily agree with
most of what Mr. Janes says about such a religion on a
scientific basis, but I would venture a step farther. To
me it does not appear as a mere possibility, for if logical
conclusions are to be considered as valid, and if scien-
tific arguments must be accepted as evidence, it is cer-
tain that religion on a scientific basis is possible, nay it
is necessary, and it will necessarily develop.
I lately heard a gentleman say, who was asked by a
guest of his to which church or religious denomination
he belonged : " I belong to the most orthodox religion !"
The questioner looked rather astonished at his host,
who had heretofore in conversation pronounced
extremely liberal and even radical views. This answer
was unexpected and like a puzzle to him. Then the
gentleman continued: "I confess to the religion of
science!"
True, the religion of science will cultivate a gener-
ous charity toward all historical forms of religion, it
will be liberal, fair and just in judging of other creeds,
but in its tenets it will be at the same time most rigorous
and orthodox, more orthodox than anv Catholic and
only saving church ever was, be it Roman or Greek or
Episcopalean. The religion of science will not appeal
to physical force and does not want the unfounded
assumption of authority, for it must rest upon intelli-
gent arguments, the acceptance of which is enforced by
their demonstrable truth. Mr. Lewis G. Janes says:
"Its conquests will be those of love," and I will not
directly contradict, but the word " love," in this connec-
tion, does not appear to me sufficiently clear. I believe
that the conquests of the religion of science will be those
of conviction by the strength which a true argument car-
ries in itself. At any rate I have not been converted to
the religion of science by any kind of love, but by the
power of its truth. I gave up the Christian faith of
my youth very reluctantly, and I almost hated those
strong scientific arguments which came to destroy what
seemed to me the sole hope of life and best comfort in
death. I could not realize at first that these bitter
truths which seemed to poison all religious feeling con-
tain a medicine for the pain they inflict; but now I
know that science which is so destructive to all super-
stitious forms of religion is at the same time the basis of
the only true religion, viz., a humanitarian religion and
the future religion of humanity.
The erroneous statement that religion is one thing
and science another, and that both are separated by a
gap which cannot be bridged over, is an invention of
the schoolmen and has been proposed and obtained for
several centuries, merely to protect science from hier-
archical persecution. In the dark ages theology was
praised as the queen of all sciences (regina scicntiaruni)
and philosophy was called her servant maid {ancilla
theologiic). Science was the Cinderella, although she
was destined to become princess and take the place
from which she was kept aloof by her haughty sister.
The thinkers, scientists and philosophers of the
Middle Ages often arrived at conclusions which were in
direct contradiction to the teachings of theology, and in
order to prevent interference the)' invented, as it were,
the axiom that something might be true in philosophy-
while its contrary is true in theology. The theologians
were much puzzled at this theory but being accustomed
to many self-contradictions in their own domain, easily
acquiesced to the strange axiom. The chasm between
religion and philosophy became wider with the growth
of science and soon theology became alarmed. Now it
was insisted upon on either side that science and religion
should not be confounded. They were declared to be
quite distinct and should have no communication with
each other.
The most ingenious modern formulation of this erro-
neous axiom has been proposed by Schleiermacher,
the distinguished disciple of Kant and Hegel and a
406
THE OPEN COURT.
famous orator in the pulpit. He declares that the province
of science is the realm of reason, while religion is a mat-
ter of feeling (Sachedes Gcfiifcls), and as such, it is inde-
pendent of science. He is right when saying that the
religious impulses are a matter of our emotions, but I
deny most emphatically that religion is confined to the
province of emotions. The religion of a man is com-
posed of many very different ingredients. If we analyze
one special form of religion ( for instance, the Islam, or
Christianity, or the religious convictions of a single man),
we shall probably find that it is a queer mixture of all
things which can influence human emotions; it consists
of ethical prescripts, of scientific facts, of superstitious
traditions, of reverence to parents and teachers, of awe
toward an indefinite or misunderstood power, of human-
itarian aspirations, of the eagerness to cling to the hope
of an eternal personal existence, etc. Each single
religion, or rather form of religion, is a very complicated
structure and the result of innumerable factors.
Science, undoubtedly, is one of these factors, and, as the
standing programme of The Open Court declares,
it should be so prominent as to be " the basis of true
religion." Such factors of religious belief as have been
very prominent in shaping supernatural religions, viz.:
superst.tion, acquiescence in traditional authority, accept-
ance of illogical dogmas in spite of and indeed because
of their absurdity (the credo quia absurd/an'), should be
abandoned. And if, as we all seem to agree, religion is
trul}- an ultimate fact of human nature, I do not see
any earthly reason why it should not be established upon
a scientific basis.
Voltaire said: Lc style c"est Vliomme! This is true
to some extent, for a man is characterized by what he
does and by the way he expresses himself. Yet, the style
a man writes, characterizes him only in one, although a
very important province of his intellectual existence. I
know of a better characteristic of man, which is his relig-
ion. The religion of a man is the man, and it char-
acterizes him. I do not mean the sect or creed or
denomination to which he belongs or the belief which
his church accepts, I mean the religion as it has taken
shape in his brain and heart and as it proves a more or
less live and influential factor in the determination of his
actions.
If religion is an ultimate fact in human nature, what,
then, is it, and what would be a correct definition of
religion? The theological definition declares religion
to be the relation of man to God. If we eliminate the
word God, which to many means a personal Deity, and
substitute in its place the All, or the Universe, we may
retain the old definition in this form. "Religion is the
relation of man to the All or the Universe." As the con-
ception of the whole Universe, however, is one which
has been gradually evolved in the history of human
kind, the origin of religion and its foundation in human
nature needs further explanation from the standpoint of
scientific facts, especially from the results of modern
anthropology and psychology.
Chemistry teaches that the elements into which mat-
ter can be analyzed are immutable and invariable.
Their number is now sixty and odds, but it may, and
probably will be reduced to less, perhaps to two or even
to one. That would not make any difference, however,
with regard to the above made statement, that the ulti-
mate elements of matter are considered as invariable and
immutable. Consequently development, progress or
evolution cannot and must not be looked for in matter
or in the elements of matter. Evolution, progress and
improvement, is only possible through a change of the
combinations which are formed by the elements. The
combinations of the elements admit of innumerable,
indeed, of infinite modifications. The atoms of living
substance can be grouped in a more orderly array and
their molecular motion can be arranged in such a way
that their cooperation loses less energy and produces
more effect. In this way they will grow stronger and
have a better chance to survive.
A single cell performs the same functions as an en-
tire organism. It has the property of nutrition, growth
and propagation. If a cell divides into two, three or
more filial cells, their connection need not be broken up
entirely. Several cells mav lead a common life — a kind
of family life in which they help each other and grow
stronger by their mutual assistance. A division of labor
will prove a great economy of work. Certain cells will
attend to certain functions for the whole cell community,
and the whole cell community will supply them with
the necessary food and strength to do their special work.
Thus organs develop, and from the cell necessarily or-
ganisms evolve. But the condition under which organ-
isms rise into existence is that single parts are subserv-
ient to a greater whole; they work as parts of a whole
and accordingly find the purpose of their existence not
in themselves, hut in the greater unity of which they
are parts. Their labor serves a higher idea, and their
egotism is superseded by a principle which can be com-
pared to the duty of a man to humanity. And this
principle contains the quintessence of ethics.
Evolution is only possible because this ethical prin-
ciple is a law of nature. It is in the empire of organ-
ized matter what the law of gravitation is in the cosmic
world, which shapes the chaos of a nebula into an
orderly arranged planetary system. The same law is
the cause of progress in human society, for it prompts
the single individual to sacrifice his labor, his life's best
years and even his life itself for the propagation, evolu-
tion and progress of his race.
The ethical law is a scientific fact. It is a funda-
mental law of nature and can be proved by a scientific
observation of the phenomena of nature.
THE OPEN COURT.
407
Religion accordingly is the consciousness of any
rational being that it is not a separate entity, but a part
of a greater whole, and further that it is a part of the
great whole, the Pan of the Greeks, the All or the Uni-
verse. This consciousness is (as is an}' kind of con-
sciousness) a feeling or an emotion, but its substance or
contents comprises our knowledge of the All, which of
course varies according to individuality, education, etc.
This consciousness of our relation to the All should not
be allowed to be a vague enthusiastic feeling, indistinct
in its object and purpose, but should be based on scienti-
fic data. This is the only way to make religion what it
ought to be, viz., a humanitarian religion, which leads
humanity onward on the path of progress. This reli-
gion should be made the basis of all education. It
should be implanted in the hearts of our children so as
to make it a live power which will control all the other
emotions and thus regulate the further development of
human kind.
If religion is the consciousness of our relation to the
All, ethics teaches us how to act accordingly. Our
actions must be in harmony with nature and in unison
with the universe. We must constantly bear in mind
that we are only parts of humanity, and that by our labor
humanity develops to higher stages. The only true
religion, therefore, the orthodox religion of science, in
its application to real life, is ethics.
A REJOINDER TO MRS. E. C. STANTON.
BY EDWARD C HEGELER.
No. 13 of The Open Court brings an answer from
Mrs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton to my criticisms of her
article, "Jails and Jubilees." My remarks opened with
the words, " I believe that the worst enemy of woman
is woman; it is not only a matter of fact that we find
the strongest adversaries of woman's rights among the
fairer sex, but ladies are always severest in judging and
condemning the real or supposed faults of their sisters.
This truth was re-impressed upon my mind when I read
Mrs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton's article, 'Jails and Jubi-
lees,' and it is the more noteworthy as she is one of
the most prominent defenders of woman's rights. I
never read a harsher criticism on Queen Victoria than
hers."
Mrs. Stanton says: "In his strictures on my article,
'Jails and Jubilees,' Mr. Hegeler makes the assertion
that 'the worst enemy of woman is woman;'" and later:
" Because one woman has questioned the goodness and
wisdom of the Queen of England, it will hardly do for
Mr. Hegeler to pass so sweeping a libel on all woman-
hood."
Mrs. Stanton draws the attention from the real sub-
ject of my criticism — that by her article the Queen of
England and her husband had been unjustly attacked
in The Open Court in a personal manner. Mrs.
Stanton's eloquent argument that man, not woman, is
woman's greatest enemy, brings to me the thought, how-
ever, that for woman to gain full independence and
equal rights with man, it is, above all, essential that she
blame herself and not others for any oppression she
suffers, and look for the attainment of mental weapons
to overcome it.
Mrs. Stanton further makes the remark: "Repre-
sentatives from England, Ireland, Scotland, Germany
and France make and administer the law for the daugh-
ters of Jefferson, Hancock and Adams, and we have no
redress." I myself being one of those American citi-
zens who came here invited by the Constitution and
laws to equal rights with those who were born here,
have to reply to Mrs. Stanton's complaint — of Ameri-
can woman being governed by such as I am — that we
European born citizens brought with us wives and
"daughters also, who share the still existing inequalities
of American born women.
Mrs. Stanton later attempts to support some of her
former personal criticism of the Queen of England, but
does not yet think of stating anything praiseworthy done
by a woman who for fifty years filled a difficult position
satisfactorily to a large majority of the English people.
As a specification to her former criticism Mrs. Stan-
ton substantially states that the Queen of England accu-
mulated a private fortune, and did not renounce a donation
to her children, as she had saved enough for them. If
Queen Victoria has accumulated a private fortune she
has done so, not for her personal benefit, but for her
children. Its administration will only be troublesome
to her. It is well known that the family members of
crowned heads are in a difficult position socially, and
that much is expected of them requiring money, which
they are not permitted by custom to earn. I think the
children of Queen Victoria have, however, made an
effort to make themselves useful to the state.
Further, if Mrs. Stanton's figures of the amount
paid to the Queen's family are correct, I can say that but
a small part thereof will have been personally consumed
by those who received the money. This only gave
them the means of making themselves useful to others,
or for playing a role in the ceremonial government of
the state. What I mean therewith Herbert Spencer's
work on Ceremonial Institutions teaches. How impor-
tant in government ceremonial institutions are is shown
to me very strongly by the coronation ordeal (with its
enormous expense) which the Emperor of Russia (I be-
lieve as a duty) imposed upon himself and his wife, hav-
ing to look for the assassin at every step.
Let us not forget that we find it necessary to send as
ambassadors to foreign courts men of private wealth,
because we are not willing to pay them enough to meet
the expenses necessary for effectually filling their pi ices.
In this connection I am reminded of our President
yjS
THK OPEN COURT.
Haves, who has tried the system of economy suggested
by Mrs. Stanton.
Mrs. Stanton closes with a dark picture of misery
among the lower classes of the English people. We
find the same distress in our Republic. It is commend-
able of Mrs. Stanton to think of these afflictions in the
turmoil of a jubilee celebration, but it is wrong person-
ally to blame the Queen of England for not having
solved the social question.
THE INFLUENCE OF DRESS UPON DEVELOPMENT.
BY FLORA MCDONALD.
When science destroyed our faith in the long-revered
fig leaf and its purpose, there was seemingly no alter-
native left but to adopt the theory of our modern dress
reform agitators, and regard clothes only as the promo-
ter of creature comfort. But the one great clothes
philosopher the world has ever known would have us
view the subject differently. In the adoption of clothes)
he discovers not merely the satisfaction of an animal
want. " In all man's habilatory endeavors an architec-
tural idea will be found lurking; his body and the cloth
are the site and material whereon and whereby his
beautiful edifice of a person is to be built." The con-
servation of spiritual force renders man both the author
and work — the creator and the created — of his envi-
ronment. The spiritual energy expended in an act to
generate his surroundings, becomes at once a vital
power to reproduce in him the idea of which they are
the visible expression. An attitude of body cannot be
assumed for any length of time without creating a cor-
responding attitude of mind. Neither can a dress be
adopted without arousing in the wearer's mind the idea
of which it is the expression. Nations, classes, individ-
uals, differentiate themselves in dress. As all civilized
people bear a resemblance to one another, affected only
by climatic and other natural influences, so are they distin-
guished from all savages in physiognomy and their
habilatory methods. Less marked differences between
one civilized people and another show less marked dif-
ferences of dress, but that difference exists, deep-rooted
— not merely a matter of cut and cloth, but a matter of
mind.
The national characteristics of his dress represent to
the wearer all those ideas which make his country dear
to him, and kindle in his heart the fire of patriotism.
A large foreign element, then, introduced in the midst
of a people and maintaining its foreign dress, must be
an element dangerous to the country in which it is found.
The emigrant may swear himself hoarse, vowing alle-
giance to the government of his adoption; but so long
as he persists in wearing the dress of his fatherland, his
loyalty may not unjustly lie distrusted. It has been
noticed that the emigrant who comes to America fully
determined to cut loose from old associations and worship
our gods, makes his first act of devotion in a clothing
store. A Japanese or Chinese student, anxious to
become familiar with English customs, will wisely
adopt English costumes. Habiting himself in English
dress on entering an English college, he unconsciously
makes easier the acquiring of a broad knowledge
of English ideas and institutions by thus removing
prejudices which his native attire would constantly sug-
gest. A government supply of "store clothes" for the
Indian would undoubtedly prove a great aid in the solu-
tion of the problem, What shall we do with our noble red
man? Similarity of dress is an expression of similarity
of interests. Clothe the Indian like the white man, we
present to him the idea of common interests — of fra-
ternity. His blanket, war-paint and feathers exist
between him and civilization only as persistently as
does the cue of the Chinaman hang between him
and Americanization.
Professor Teufelsdrockh's high glee in imagining
" at some royal drawing-room the Duke this, the Arch-
duke that, Colonel A. and Colonel B., and innumerable
Bishops, Generals and miscellaneous functionaries, all
advancing gallantly to the Anointed Presence, when
suddenly the clothes fly off the whole dramatic corps
and Dukes, Grandees, Bishops, Generals — Anointed
Presence itself, straddling there without a shirt on,"
was the rare glee provoked by reason. For a time a
certain lofty expression of piety might distinguish the
naked Bishop from his fellows, and an unmistakable air
of royalty might preserve the Anointed Presence from
insult. So, for a time, were an exchange of clothes to
take place, the Admiral wou'd be uncomfortable in the
Bishop's gown, the Bishop awkward with the General's
sword, the General uneasv with the crown of the
Anointed Presence upon his head. But so do " our clothes
tailorize and demoralize us," if the Admiral persevered
in wearing the Bishop's gown, he would soon discover
in his soul a liking for lengthy prayers and high living,
and be fore long would detect about himself an air of supe-
rior piety which would be not a little confusing; while
the General accustoming his head to the weight of the
crown would one day find the palm of his hand itching
for a sceptre. An idea constantly presented to us by
our environment becomes a powerful factor in our
development. Radical reformers invariably adopt some
radical change in their dress, and, in so doing, provide
themselves with a strong moral support. The visible
expression of a motive which prompts their acts and
makes them different from their fellows, weakens the
influence of their fellows upon them by plainly setting
them aside as creatures animated by impulses contrary
to the general impulse. In communities where rigid
discipline is maintained, there can be no question but
that the wearing of a uniform by the members aids in
sustaining this discipline. The individuality of persons
THE OPEN COURT.
409
is merged into the individuality of the community. The
person is less liable to assert his will power because of
having always before him the idea of the whole. The
animus of the community becomes all-powerful. Relig-
ious orders thus endure; mutinies among sailors and
soldiers are thus made more infrequent; and outbreaks
in prisons and reformatories are less often suggested.
While there can be no two views of the effect of uni-
form dress upon discipline, it is a question whether its
influence is for the best in prisons and reformatories.
When our prison system is universally such that we
have a class of hopeless criminals under life-sentence
separate from criminals under indeterminate sentences,
in the former case where discipline would be the main
consideration, no change of dress may be desired. But
where there is hope of reform, there is but little doubt
that the shaven heads and striped garb commonly seen
in reformatories has a deteriorating influence upon
moral development.
The habit of the monk is assumed as an expression
of the lofty ambition of his soul, and, being thus differ-
entiated because of his piety, he becomes literally virtu-
ous before the eyes of men and in his own sight. This
outward demonstration of virtue constantly re-acts on
his soul to its good. Likewise differentiate a man
because of his viciousness, you connect the idea of vice
so intimately with him, with his concept of himself, as
to form a decided obstacle in the way of his moral
uplifting. The soul to be healthy, must have all chan-
nels of expression unobstructed. Where reform is
possible, individuality should not only be permitted, but
encouraged in every way. The adoption of this prin-
ciple in the treatment of the insane, has been productive
in all instances of good results. A member of one of
our State Boards of Charities and Reforms asserts, how-
ever, that in the matter of dress there is still room for
great improvement in our insane hospitals. The inmates
do not wear uniforms, but said he, "they are dressed in
ill-fitting, hard looking cheap clothes, apparently so as
to make them more keenly alive to their condition and
thus retard their recovery, which is also hindered by the
exercise of a cheap superiority over them, assumed by
hired attendants because of their miserable appearance."
The charity of the wealty, which is ever seeking new
courses, might well be directed in experimenting with a
change in the manner of clothing our subjects for
reform, moral and intellectual.
The dress reform agitators look to nothing but
physical comfort and health. Physical health insured,
promotes intellectual development. Dwarf the body,
the mind suffers. But this intermediate influence which
dress brings to bear upon development, demands less
attention than the immediate influence which the idea
conveyed by dress exerts. If the body is pinched and
pained, and so inducing mental discrepancies, there is a
sentinel on guard to cry out against the treatment.
Nature rebels, and disease gives forth a warning. In
the other instance, however, incalculable harm may be
wrought, and no signal of distress seen or heard. The
desires and aim of the demi-monde seek expression in
a style of dress that is unhesitatingly copieil by pro-
fessedly pure women in professedly respectable society.
No woman can do this without becoming a patent factor
for evil. She may assume the dress of a Cora Pearl,
and, to all appearances, preserve her own purity intact,
but she must augment base passions in men that are
strong enough at their best. That she does not at the
same time experience moral loss herself, is scarcely to be
credited — is to lie sincerely doubted, in fact. The sub-
tile influence of her dress is ever at work, reproducing
in her ideas of which it was originally the expression,
and creating about her a moral atmosphere in which she
maintains a healthy appearance only because circum-
stances kindly give her no opportunity for exposure.
" Men form laws to suit their own interests, and then
term these laws, moral laws — God's laws," said George
Sand bitterly. Whatever we may call these laws, what-
ever mean motive may have originated them, they are
necessary to the continuance of all institutions we count
good; and since, being the creation of man, they depend
for their existence upon the temper of the individual,
happiness demands that everything directed against
them should be frowned down. It has been found well
for our advancement that men hold their iniquity within
certain bounds, but that women be above reproach.
Again considering no duty but duty to self — which
is, after all, duty to God — it behooves us to look care-
fully to the growth and development of our children.
We send them to school five days in a week, religiously
start them off to Sunday school on the seventh day,
dress them like puppets every day, and are surprised
that our excellent management produces so few earnest,
genuine souls! The chief beauties of childhood are
simplicity and spontaneity, and both of these beauties
we destroy as speedily as ma}' be with the frippery and
furbelows we clothe them in. We cramp growing bodies
and paralize growing minds. We force the follies, the
mockeries the foolish restraints of fashionable — or, if
you will, conservative life upon children before they
have got beyond "the murmur of the outer infinite
which unweaned babes hear in their sleep, and are
wondered at for smiling." We are willing they should
be taught the creed and thirty-nine articles, but at the
same time we see to it that they are impressed with a
proper sense of the importance of a becoming confirma-
tion robe. Innocent childish lips wonderingly repeat:
"Thou shalt not steal, thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not
commit adultery" — but how many learn the lesson of the
lilies of the field? To best further its development, the
dress of a child should express but one idea — simplicity.
4io
THE OPEN COURT.
Its little soul finds the most trivial phenomenon of this
big; world a perplexing study, and do not confuse it and
obstruct its growth by forcing it to an immediate recog-
nition of that thing apart from the natural world — man's
world. The soul that in its youth forms an intimate
acquaintance, a quick sympathy with undefiled nature,
is never without a companion and never without anally.
THE LAOKOON OF LABOR.
BY WHEELBARROW.
Most of us have seen the picture of Laokoon and his
two sons in the embrace of the avenging serpents sent
to punish them for sacrilege. I think that was their
offense; or perhaps it was blasphemy. It was some
crime against religion, and the punishment was of that
exquisite cruelty that angry gods delight in. I am
not familiar with the legend connected with the picture,
but I have read that the piece of sculpture from which
it is taken is considered superior to every other work of
art in the world. I can readily believe it, for even the
picture shows the muscular contortions of the strong
man in his agony. But they avail him nothing. His
masculine sinews, hardened and distended by the death
struggle, only furnish a firmer fulcrum for the grip of
the serpents, and he and his boys are crushed together.
Like Laokoon of old, the American laborer and his
children struggle in the coils of the strong serpents —
monopoly and aristocracy. Capital furnishes their con-
strictive power, and every effort for freedom only tight-
ens the grip. We strike for higher wages, and end bv
" signing the document," making our slavery a matter
of record, and mortgaging our children " even to the
third and fourth generation." On the altar of " brother-
hood " we immolate fraternity, and forbid the cunning
hands of our neighbor's boys to learn an honest trade
because we work at it. We incorporate the principle of
caste into the religion of labor, and sneer at the "plug"
workman while denying him the right to learn. We
butt our heads against stone walls, under the delusion
that the exercise toughens the brain and strengthens the
mind. Assailing capital we insist on being paid in cheap
dollars for dear work, and with inverted patriotism we
carry torches in the fool parade whose transparencies
demand " high prices for everything." I have a right to
talk like this, because a moment ago, when I went down
to the shed for a hod of dear coal, I saw inglorious in
the corner the helmet that I wore and the torch that I
bore " in the last campaign," when, in company with
two thousand other patriots, I escorted " the orator of
the occasion " to the grand stand. I have "the privi-
lege of the floor," for I got a sore throat in cheering his
fluent glib-gab as he boasted of our great prosperity,
and called upon us all to vote earlv and often, and bring
our neighbor to vote for the man that made everything
dear. The same crusading will be done again by
workingmen next year, but "not for Joseph — if he
knows it — not for Joe." I have carried my last torch.
Before labor can be lifted up to its rightful dignity
every workingman and every man willing to woik
must be made free of the " brotherhood." By helping
one another we all rise together; bv dragging each
other down we all fall together. So long as the man
who lays the bricks treats as his inferior the man who
carries them up the ladder, neither of them is free; so
long as the man who drives the engine despises the
man who pushes the wheelbarrow, so long monopolv
will hold them in a common bondage. This is the
philosophy of all experience since man first hecame the
hired man of his brother.
I once had a job of shoveling at a place called Man-
chester, in Virginia, just opposite Richmond. One
Sunday I was taking a walk with a friend in Richmond,
and I remarked the inequality of the negroes in the
streets, as indicated by their personal appearance. Some
were ragged, brutal- faced, and twisted out of shape by
premature and unnatural toil ; others were well clad
and evidently well fed. One bright mulatto, of genteel
figure and face, was clad in black broadcloth ; he wore a
shiny silk hat and carried a cane. It was easy to see
also that there were castes among them, superiors and
inferiors, and that the higher orders looked with scorn
upon the lower classes. I thought that those finely
dressed negroes were probably free. " No," said my
friend, " they are all slaves, but there are degrees even
in slavery; there are 'soft things' there as in freedom."
Next day I was standing by the Washington monu-
ment, when I saw a procession of negroes fastened by
couples to a long chain. They were marching to the
shambles to be sold, where I followed them to see the
auction. That lot of fellow-Christians brought, on an
average, about six dollars a pound. Among them was
the bright mulatto — plug hat, broadcloth and all. He
was chained to a vulgar looking field hand. All super-
cilious airs were gone, and every face carried the same
hopeless look of despair. All distinctions were leveled
in the handcuffs that tightened them to a common chain.
So it is with the workingmen. We may build steps on
which to place the various crafts one above another,
with the laborer and his wheelbarrow at the bottom,
but while we are doing that concentrated capital is bind-
ing us by couples to an impartial degradation. We
can, if we will, reverse the fate of Laokoon and strangle
the serpents, but we must all work together; the trowel
must not tyrannize over the hod, nor the jackplane sneer
at the shovel.
A correspondence between F. Galton, George
Romanes, the Duke of Argyll, and Prof. Max Miiller,
forming an appendix to the lectures on the "Science of
Thought," will be printed in our next issue.
THE OPEN COURT.
4n
The Open Court.
A. FortniohtlyJournal.
Published every other Thursday at 169 to 175 La Salle Street (Nixor
Building*, corner Monroe Street, by
THE OPEN»COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY
B. I-. UNDERWOOD,
Editor and Manager.
SARA A. UNDERWOOD,
Associate Editor.
The leading object of The Open Court is to continue
the work of The Index, that is, to establish religion on the
basis of Science and in connection therewith it will present the
Monistic philosophy. The founder of this journal believes this
will furnish to others what it has to him, a religion which
embraces all that is true and good in the religion that was taught
in childhood to them and him.
Editorially, Monism and Agnosticism, so variously denned,
■will be treated not as antagonistic systems, but as positive and
negative aspects of the one and only rational scientific philosophy,
which, the editors hold, includes elements of truth common to
all religions, without implying either the validity of theological
assumption, or any limitations of possible knowledge, except such
as the conditions of human thought impose.
The Open Court, while advocating morals and rational
religious thought on the firm basis of Science, will aim to substi-
tute for unquestioning credulity intelligent inquiry, for blind faith
rational religious views, for unreasoning bigotry a liberal spirit,
tor sectarianism a broad and generous humanitarianism. With
this end in view, this journal will submit all opinion to the crucial
test of reason, encouraging the independent discussion by able
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problems which are engaging the attention of thoughtful minds
and upon the solution of which depend largely the highest inter-
ests of mankind.
While Contributors are expected to express freely their own
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should be made payable checks, postal orders and express orders
THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER i, 1SS7.
AN OVERTAXED ORACLE.
"Unfortunately," confesses Rev. D. P. Livermore, in
reply to the arguments of the Rev. H. M. Dexter, of
the Corigregationalist, against Woman's suffrage — " The
Bible has been pressed into the support of almost every
wrong under the heavens, and it has been interpreted in
the interest of intemperance, of drunkenness, of wine-bib-
bing, of slavery, of polygamy, of unjust government, of
witchcraft, of superstition, persecution and bloodshed)
and to destroy the heathen and massacre the Indians."
Rev. Mr. Livermore objects to such manifest overtax-
ing of the Christian oracle when Dr. Dexter offers the
Bible as authority against woman suffrage, in which
Mr. Livermore chivalrously believes; but we wonder
whether he and other Christian suffragists feel like mak-
ing any protest in the interest of truth and common
sense when enthusiastic clergymen like Rev. J. W. Bash-
ford and Rev. C. C. Harrah offer to prove from the
Bible (and doubtless imagine that they do so), the one,
that it is in favor of woman's suffrage; and the other, that
Jesus Christ was, in the light of our new definitions of
woman's enfranchisement, " the emancipator of women."
It does not seem at first thought worth while to offer
any contradiction of these absurd affirmations, but the
recollection of the intense earnestness with which Mr.
Harrah's little pamphlet was recommended by a leading
speaker at a recent woman suffrage meeting as the work
most needed by woman suffragists to-day, and the enthu-
siastic applause with which the recommendation was
received by a majority of the women present, together
with the fact that Rev. Mr. Bashford's leaflet " The Bible
for Woman Suffrage " and Rev. Mr. Harrah's tract
" Jesus Christ the Emancipator of Women," are indorsed
in the strongest manner by some of the leading woman
suffragists, and are being industriously circulated and
extravagantly praised in the supposed interests of woman
suffrage, makes it seem imperatively necessary to call
a halt in " booming " such false pretences and to enter
vigorous protest against dishonesty of statement in fur-
therance of a cause which needs no such false props,
and which will ultimately be injured by them.
It is thoroughly dishonest to drag in as evidence in
any case a law or utterance ante-dating the possibility of
the existence of such case. Neither the Bible nor the
Constitution of the United States can be authority in the
matter of woman suffrage, a question which at the time
they were written had no raison d^etre. In the moral
and intellectual evolution of mankind " new occasions"
will forever "teach new duties," and no generation, how-
ever noble or advanced, can frame immutable laws for
a generation vet unborn, since the environments and
needs of that people can be understood and provided for
only, or best, by themselves.
Mr. Bashford rests his claim that the Bible is for
woman suffrage on a few passages which he unhesitat-
ingly (though with the most amiable motives) warps
and distorts from their very evident meaning when
taken with their contexts; such as, " In the image of
God created he him, male and female created he them,
and God said let them have dominion over all the
earth." In this passage Mr. Bashford finds authority
in the word "them," which he proceeds to interpret to
his own satisfaction. This pronunciamento, however,
took place after the creation of both man and woman,
but Rev. Mr. Dexter in "Common Sense as to Woman
Suffrage," strikes the ground from under Mr. Bash-
ford's feet by discovering, through the same oracle —
that "before the creation of Eve, even — the keynote of
the divine intent as to the female nature," is struck in
God's declaration, " It is not good for man to be alone:
I will make a help- meet for him." "The word used,"
says Mr. Dexter, "is significant. It is ezer, coming
from the verb ' to bring aid, or succor.' We submit
that it involves a certain natural implication of
secondariness and subordination." Another text which
412
THE OPEN COURT.
Mr. Bashford interprets in favor of woman suffrage are
the oft quoted words of Paul, " There is neither Jew
nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is
neither male nor female, for ye are all one in Christ
Jesus," of which Mr. Dexter affirms that Paul is " not
talking about 'rights' of any kind, but of the abso-
lute identity of all classes and conditions of men as sin-
ners before the cross." We give the third evidence
which Mr. Bashford offers from his oracle in favor of
his position with his own underlining, and that too, is
from Paul, " Nevertheless neither is the man without
the woman nor the woman without the man in the
Lord" which Mr. Bashford thinks Paul added to his
mention of the historical fact that man is the head of the
woman, for fear that '- his words on the subjection of
woman might be tortured into falsehood."
The groundwork of Rev. Mr. Harrah's claim is
outlined in this sentence from his little work. " Noth-
ing in Tesus' reform work has a pre-eminence over the
recognition of women and their rights. In no instance
does he appear in controversy with them." Also, that
he had a large following of women [as every reformer
has had J, and that "where the golden ride is true the
subordination of woman is a tie" in which case woman's
subordination was also a lie long before Christ was
born, as it was enunciated by Confucius in China five
hundred years before, and is thus given in the Confu-
cian Analects " Tsze-Kung asked, saying, ' Is there one
word which may serve as a rule of practice for all one's
lifer' The master said, ' Is not reciprocity such a word?
What you do not want done to yourself do not do to
others;'" and Thales and Isocrates in Greece, expressed
the same idea in nearly the same words; and in the Jew-
ish Talmud, which Jesus must have been familiar with,
the Rabbi Hillel says, " Do not to another what thou
wouldst not he shouldst do to thee; this is the sum of
the law."
Rev. Mr. Harrah in his well intentioned but labored
effort to prove "Jesus Christ the Emancipator of Wo-
men," omits explaining why in the best summary of the
morality inculcated by Christ, the Sermon on the Mount,
there is no reference to woman whatever save in the
advice given to men concerning divorce, or how it hap-
pened that among the twelve specially called to promul-
gate his doctrines there was no woman, or why he per-
mitted the Magdalene to kneel at his feet and pay him
such homage, and why it has taken nearly nineteen cen-
turies for Christian ministers to discover this part of his
mission, the majority of them refusing to believe it even
now, and why the churches which profess to acknowl-
edge him as their head still refuse to permit woman to
take other than a subordinate part in their organization
and government.
But it is not our purpose to enter upon a detailed
discussion of claims so absurd, and claims which such
eminent theologians as Horace Bushnell, Morgan Dix,
Austin Phelps, Dr. Patton, Dr. Dexter and Bishop
Spaulding, with many other learned and famous clergy-
men have not been able to perceive in their copies of
the Bible. Indeed their oracle has spoken " with no
uncertain sound" in direct opposition to such claims.
Our only purpose in writing this is to call attention to the
unfairness and disingenuousness of employing such pleas
in the woman suffrage movement, and to beg our Chris-
tian co-workers to have faith in the inherent and trans-
parent justice of that movement and forbear using in its
behalf arguments as flimsy as they are untrue.
Woman's suffrage does not need Biblical sanction
for its success, and it is simply ridiculous at this late
dale to make pretense of having it. In Christ's time
and much later, woman's equality with man was in no
way recognized. Enthusiastic, sincere, tender-hearted
reformer as Jesus was, this reform was never once
dreamed of by him. The majority of men were not
then in possession of equality of rights, political or
other; and everywhere throughout all ranks and condi-
tions of life, woman was considered man's inferior.
How preposterous then, to profess to believe that the
mission of Jesus was the emancipation of women.
It is certain that the doctrine that through woman
sin entered the world, and that her position is essentiallv
subordinate, so plainly taught by Paul, was a part of
the earl)' Christian belief, and Mr. Lecky tells us " It is
probable that this teaching had its part in determining
the principles of legislation concerning the sex " — legis-
lation which put woman in a " much lower legal posi-
tion than in the Pagan Empire." Mr. F. M. Holland in his
" Rise of Intellectual Liberty " remarks that " no ancient
Christain of unblemished orthodox}' showed himself so
friendly to female independence as the skeptical Seneca,
Plutarch, Pliny, Hadrian and Antoninus Pius. Cle-
ment of Alexandria, who lost his place on the list of
saints more than a century ago on account of his liber-
ality, urged that women have as much right as men to
study philosophy, and gave high praise to Miriam, Sap-
pho, Theano and Leontium. These names, with those of
Portia, Livia, Agrippina, the Arrias, Fannia, Sulpicia,
Zenobia and Hypatia, show that more female ability
had been developed before the establishment of Chris-
tianity than can be found afterward for centuries. Wo-
men had almost ceased to figure in history except as
devotees."
It seems to us that even those who reverence the
Bible as the revealed word of God, a divine revelation,
should object to having it longer used as an empty-headed
oracle whose mouth can only echo back each individual
wisdom-seeker's own opinion. It is time too that women
should begin to understand the laws of natural justice as
taught by history and experience to all people of all
faiths; instead of relying for their ideas of right and
THE OPEN COURT.
413
wrong on an ancient book which is considered divine
by but a comparatively small number of the earth's
population. No Bible can forever uphold wrong; for
whenever men grow intelligent enough to judge by its
fruits and its possibilities as to the right of a question,
sacred books will either be pushed aside, or as to-day,
lamely interpreted in the interests of justice; hut a too
frequently changed interpretation must weaken its hold
on the mind as a true oracle. s. a. u.
THE ALCOHOL QUESTION.
In the Freethinker's Magazine for August is re-
printed from Demoresfs Magazine, a lecture by Mr.
T. B. Wakeman, in which is presented the Gough side
of the subject of temperance with a show of scientific
support. Mr. Wakeman attempts to show that alcohol
is a poison, and he advocates the suppression of its sale
and manufacture for a beverage. He would have it
sold only as a poison, and so labeled when sold, under
heavy penalties, as is the case with arsenic.
He argues that alcohol is a poison because it is an
excrementitious product of fermentation. He seems not
to be aware of the fact that every plant or animal organ-
ism depends for its life upon the excrementitious pro-
duct of associated cells. In physiology secretion and
excretion are convertible terms, and an application of
the lecturer's logic would make a mother's milk poi-
sonous to her infant. The properties of food upon
which the torula feeds must have a definite relation to
excreted alcohol, or the process stops; just as too much
nitrogen will interfere with breathing. But neither
nitrogen nor alcohol, for these reasons, is poison.
Where is Mr. Wakeman's warrant, aside from
ZelPs Encyclopedia, for stating that bread is free
from alcohol, or that alcohol is not assimilated in
the human body. Some of his scientific assertions
are rather reckless, to say the least; for instance:
that alcohol is death to all animal cells and tissues;
that a half ounce of pure alcohol will kill a man,
that it causes an "explosion" of the nervous system;
that it never gets further down than the stomach;
that it inflames and rots the lungs; that it causes nitro-
glycerine explosion in the brain cells. In opposition to
these statements there is the highest scientific authority
for saying that alcohol judiciously taken prevents the
death of cells and tissues. Dead animal substance is
prevented from decomposing by immersion in it, in most
instances. Scandinavians have been known to drink
several ounces of pure alcohol at one time. It is a mat-
ter of acquired toleration. In lung consumption, it pre-
vents lung decay instead of causing it. It is assimilated
with extraordinary rapidity and ease by the animal
economy, and it is this very readiness of assimilation
that makes it dangerous when improperly used.
It is affirmed by many of the ablest and latest scientific
authorities that alcohol is a food. Dr. Hammond, in his
Physiological Memoirs, narrates that from personal ex-
perimentation, it is a food and a tissue conserver. He
says: "The use of alcohol even in moderation cannot,
therefore, be exclusively approved or condemned. The
laboring man who can hardly provide bread and meat
enough to preserve the balance between the formation
and decay of his tissues, finds here an agent which,
within the limits of health, enables him to dispense with
a certain quantity of food and yet keep up the strength
and weight of his body. On the other hand, he who
uses alcohol when his food is more than sufficient to
supply the waste of tissue, and at the same time does
not increase the amount of his physical exercise, or drink
an additional quantity of water, by which the decay of
tissues would be accelerated, retards the metamorphosis
while an increased amount of nutrition is being assimi-
lated, and thus adds to the plethoric condition of the
system, which excessive food so generally induces."
In continued fevers, such as typhoid, whisky in suit-
able doses, is generally regarded by medical practitioners
to be the life sustaining medicine. It is impossible to
dispense with alcohol as a solvent for drugs. It is of
more use in pharmacy than any other substance. In
old age, or enfeeblement from various causes, it is inval-
uable. Physiological chemistry affords something be-
sides the fanciful effects of alcohol upon brain tissue
such as "explosions." Alcohol accelerates the heart's
activity, suffuses the brain with blood, and through this
extra blood supply causes increased brain activity, just
as oxygen will if inhaled. In excess, the pernicious
after effects of blood quality changes are experienced,
and in extreme cases, rupture of the minute brain ves-
sels, or still further atrophy or shrinking of the brain
tissues follows.
Temperance advocates miss valuable assertions made
in their favor by specialists, because such things are not
sought for in the scientific writings where they abound.
Michet accredits one-half the insanity in France to
heredity, and Guslain places it at thirty per cent. An-
stie ascribes the origin of this heredity largely to alcohol
excesses. So that if we take the lowest figure and assign
one-half of it as intemperate ancestry causation, then we
have fifteen per cent, of inherited insanity caused by
drunkenness in progenitors. Lunier, after careful com-
piling of records, asserts that fifty per cent, of the
idiots and imbeciles in Europe had notoriously drunken
parents.
Lord Shaftesbury, who was for fifty years head of the
English lunacy commission, claimed that fifty per cent, of
the insanity in England was caused by intemperance.
Directly and indirectly forty per cent, is a figure adopted
by many asylum experts as loss of mentality due to alcohol
out of the total. Thecalculations of penologists and alms-
house statisticians are appalling, and need elimination of
4H
THE OPEN COURT.
error probabilities. They variously assign fifty and
ninety per cent.
There is no doubt that the undue use of alcohol
makes wretched havoc in the world, but we think
that a special study should be made of the alcohol
question in its sociological aspects by ascertaining, first,
■why it is that there is so universal addiction. An an-
swer to this question would be the first step toward the
means of controlling the abuse. Camp-meeting tactics
may do a little good among the ignorant, but clamoring
for the suppression of the manufacture of alcohol be-
cause it does in many instances work great harm, may
be paralleled by the attempt of the Mexican mob to
tear down telegraph lines when informed that lightning
was electricity.
While the great evils from the use of alcohol
are beyond dispute, they are not greater to-day than
in the past. Sir Walter Scott cannot be regarded
as a faithful portrayer of the old times in every particu-
lar, yet his pictures of the sottishness of all ranks, castes
and decrees, were afforded him by the accurate recorders
upon whom he drew. In proportion as a wider exped-
iency has controlled mankind, the grosser accompani-
ments of intemperance have lessened. The evil assumes
new guises as times change, one of the vilest of which,
we can see in the saloon influence in politics. But scien-
tific legislation, and an aroused public sentiment, grapple
with this depravity, and the world moves on to better
days as it always has, even though haltingly sometimes.
Professor E. S. Morse, as President of the Ameri-
can Association for the Advancement of Science in New
York, at its thirty-sixth annual session, on resigning to
his successor, delivered a remarkable address, entitled^
*' A Decade of Evolution," which was a continuation of
an essay he read at Buffalo eleven years ago devoted to
showing the part American students had taken in devel-
oping the theory of evolution, an essay that called forth
a letter from Darwin, who was surprised at the results
of American research. Professor Morse is one of the
most radical evolutionists. His own contributions to
science have been of a substantial and valuable charac-
ter, and his recent address will be looked for by many,
who did not have the pleasure of hearing it, with eager
interest.
There must be many thousand people living who
have had their heads " examined " by O. S. Fowler, the
lecturer and writer, who died the other day at his home
in Connecticut at the age of 78. He was good at read-
ing character from face, head and general appearance,
and he presented in a popular, entertaining way much
useful information in regard to health and various
reforms. These descriptions of character which Fowler
and other lecturers on phrenology gave at the close of
their lectures attracted large audiences some years ago,
and contributed to the quite extensive belief in phrenol-
ogy as a science which then prevailed, and to a less
extent still prevails among people unacquainted with
anatomy and physiology. But phrenology long ago
received its coup de grace in scientific quarters, and the
little there was in it the craniologist absorbed and made
a few of his generalizations.
# # *
Prof. Spencer F. Baird, Secretary of the Smithson-
ian Institution and United States Commissioner of the
Fish and Fisheries, who died August 19th, was author of
valuable works on birds and mammals of North America,
was scientific editor of the Annual Record of Science
and Industry and for more than a third of a century he
edited the annual report of the Smithsonian Institution.
He was honorary and corresponding member of the
most renowned scientific societies of the world. He
was born in 1S23 at Reading, Pa. He was appointed
Commissioner of Fish and Fisheries in 1S71 by Presi-
dent Grant.
A Chinaman, Wong Ching Foo, tells, in The North American
Review, "Why Am I a Heathen?" It is an amusing article, and
reverses things finely. It musters all the evils of the world, and
asserts that they are the fruit of Christianity ; and then it marsh-
als against them all the virtues, and labels them heathenism.
Such an argument is unanswerable, but it sounds as if it were
written by a disciple ol Mr. Ingersoll as a travesty. — Independent \
This article by a heathen may serve to help make
some theologians see the injustice of their method of
defending Christianity — i. e., to muster all the evils of
the world and ascribe them to paganism and skepticism,
and marshal against them all the virtues and label them
heathenism or skepticism. There is room for improve-
ment in controversial method and spirit on the part of
Christians as well as on the part of the opponents of their
faith. Wong Chin Foo's article, while presenting many
facts, is unjust to Christianity, but its injustice consists
in treating one system of ieligion in the same style and
spirit in which advocates of this system have been in the
habit of treating all others. They should not be sur-
prised to see their own argument turned against them in
retaliation.
* * #
In a private letter Mrs. Elizabeth Oakes-Smith
writes: " We of to-day claim too much as originators.
Ann Lee, the Shaker, led the way to equality of sex,
and Jeremy Bentham, having defined original and in-
alienable human rights, adds, 'and these are inherent in
woman as well as man.' The first one who spoke upon
and advocated woman's rights in this country was John
Neal, of Portland, Me., who was the personal friend
and pupil of Jeremy Bentham. Indeed the world has
never been utterly without its witness for the entire
equality of man and woman, as a thing self-evident,
THE OPEN COU RT
4»5
though ignored, set aside, and forbidden in the stress, of
social and political evolution. Three hundred years ago
Montaigne had said just what we claim now, ' Women
are not to blame at all when they refuse the rules of
life that are introduced into the world; for as much as
the men made them without their consent.' * * *
We certainly are approaching the full recognition of
what we claim, but we have much to learn, ami this
elaborate record of what we have done seems utterly
childish. * * * Sixty years ago I helped my hus-
band in editing his daily paper, but was never deluded
into the feeling that this was an extraordinary thing on
my part."
Miss Lillian Whiting, discussing in the Boston Trav-
eller the question of American art, says: "The picture
that is planned with an eye to the market alone cannot
hold the spontaneous fervor of the master. Any artistic
achievement that is really great must be born out of a
great atmosphere. The artist who would produce noble
work must live nobly, not ignobly; must live in an at-
mosphere of ideals and not in the atmosphere of the
market-place. All great art periods have, too, been re-
ligious periods. Belief in purer purposes; faith in the
ultimate realization of diviner dreams produce the at-
mosphere favorable to artistic inspirations. We must
sometimes be silent if we would listen to the voice of
the gods.
■ * * *
A correspondent corrects us as to the title of Colonel
T. W. Higginson's history as given hastily in an editorial
in our last number. Its correct title is Young Folks'
History of the United States. Books suggested by
correspondents for the use of young readers are : The
Story of Channing ', The Story of Theodore Parker,
by Frances E. Cooke; Tom Brown's School Days at
Rugby, by Hon. Thomas Hughes; Mrs. A. M. Diaz's
" William Henry " books and John Spicer's Lectures;
E. E. Hales's Ten Times One is Ten; and for girls
especially, The American Girl's Home Book of Work
and Play, by Helen Campbell, assisted by Mrs. Hester
M. Poole, and Susan D. Powers's " House and Home "
series.
% % ^
Oliver Wendell Holmes, in the very delightful install-
ment of " Our One Hundred Days Abroad," given in
the Atlantic Monthly for September, says: "I have
sometimes thought that I love so well the accidents of
this temporary terrestrial residence, its endeared locali-
ties, its precious affections, its pleasing variety of occu-
pation, its alternations of excited and gratified curiosity,
and whatever else comes nearest to the longings of the
natural man, that I might lie wickedly homesick in a
far-off spiritual realm where such toys are done with."
" We may hope," he goes on, "that when the fruits of
our brief early season df three or four score years have
given us all thev can impart for our happiness; when
'the love of little maids ami berries' and all other
earthly prettinesses shall 'soar and sing,' as Mr. Emer-
son sweetly reminds us they all must, we may hope that
the abiding felicities of our later life-season may far more
than compensate us for all that have taken their flight."
# * #
The American Idea, a new liberal paper published
at Liberal, Mo., (M. D. Leahy, editor) says:
It is time that we had ceased firing at dead creeds and devote
some of our energy to supplying the wants of the social and
moral nature of man. * * * Efforts are now being made to
arouse the liberals of the West to the necessity of this work.
Preparations are being made for calling a convention of Western
liberals for the purpose of organizing upon a high basis of ethical
culture. Every one should give it their hearty encouragement.
We feel that this movement will meet the earnest cooperation of
all liberals, and shall be glad to give our readers an opportunity
to express themselves through these columns in regard to the
matter. Let us not be satisfied with having destroyed the dun-
geons of superstition, but rather let us rear upon their ruins the
glorious temple of high ethical culture and true moral growth.
* * *
Says the Boston Advertiser :
The school of Agassiz and Dawson is not making head at
present against the evolutionists. But this school has done a
lasting service in its warning against the admission of assump-
tions in lieu of evidence. The case for evolution should be stated
without straining facts to tit conclusions.
All conservative and reactionary schools, no doubt,
do some good service incidentally, but we cannot forget
that what the opponents of evolution have declared
to be " mere assumptions " have generally turned
out to be facts, and proofs of the theory. ' Assump-
tions in lieu of evidence" have not been confined to the
side that has won; they are still presented by the "school
of Agassiz and Dawson," which continues its ineffective
opposition to the great conception of natural evolution
by feebly repeating " assumptions in lieu of evidence."
The death of Alvan Clark, the great artificer, the work of
whose skillful fingers brought the heavens nearer by many miles,
suggests anew the ancient lesson that patience and thoroughness
are the conditions of success of the higher order. It is a little
tiling to grind glass better than another man. It is a great thing
when the grinder puts his patience, his caution, the delicacy of
his touch, and the careful accuracy of his measurement at the
service of the astronomer, and instantly brings all the stars ot
heaven nearer to his gaze, while bringing within the range ot ob-
servation some that he never saw before. His last great achieve-
ment was the making of a lens for the Lick Observatory, thii t\ -
six inches in diameter. He toiled in a little room in Cambridge,
incessantly rubbing lump^ of curved glass; but his work, lifted to
its proper place, glorifies lor man the whole celestial sphere. —
Christian Register.
*! * #
Col. T. W. Higginson (who will soon contribute an
article to The Open Cot'KT| calls our attention to the
fact that Prof. Alberl Neville, is author of a life of
Theodore Parker.
4-i6
THE OPEN COURT.
THROUGH WHAT HISTORICAL CHANNELS DID
BUDDHISM INFLUENCE EARLY
CHRISTIANITY?
BY GENERAL J. G. R. FORLONG, AUTHOR OF "RIVERS OF LIFE."
Part II.
Aristoxenos of the Alexandrian era, mentions that
"An Indian Magus sorcerer or 'Great One' visited Sok-
rates," and that many philosophers were then preaching
abstinence from all wine and animal food, as well as
promulgating strange theories of metempsychosis. An
Indian monk, Kalanus (evidently Kalinai), had also
sealed his doctrine and sincerity by immolating himself
at Persepolis; and all such matters would be well
known and scattered further afield by Alexander and
his savans, when in the beginning of the next century
(200 B.C.) they were traversing the whole Persian em-
pire, and gleaning all they could of India — her histories,
religions and rites. Baktria had then fully embraced
neo-Buddhism, and long before our era this had perme-
ated nearly all Asia and become virtually the State re-
ligion of vast empires in China and India, and wras in
the mouth, if not the heart of all monarchs, princelets,
priests and the learned from the Pacific to the Mediter-
ranean.
We are apt to forget that intercourse throughout
Asia was as free and complete 1,000 years b.c. as it is
to-day, except in the case of British India, with its gieat
metalled highways, railroads, and telegraphs. Else-
where throughout the East caravansaries and tracks,
called roads, existed then as now ; but the roughness of
the latter impeded not the interchange of thought,
which passed then even more easily than now from
tribe to tribe; for bounds were less defined and wild
hordes moved more freely then, and a belief in the
divinity or holiness of the pious pilgrim-teacher or her-
mit was more universal ; hence he was less molested and
more respected, and his opinions more freely dissemi-
nated than in these skeptical days.
Thus no important phase of thought, especially in
regard to religion, its inspired leaders and their miracles
was long hidden. Even fables and folk-lore, as well as
sandal-wood, " apes, ivory and peacocks," were as well
known in Jerusalem as India. "That a channel of
communication was open between India, Syria and Pal-
estine in the time of Solomon, is established," says Prof.
Max Midler, "beyond doubt by certain Sanskrit words
which occur in the Bible as names of articles of export
from Ophir, which taken together could not have been
exported from any country but India."*
The Professor says there is no reason to suppose,
even at the time when the Book of Kings is believed to
* Dr. Burnell claims a Tamil source for Solomon's tuki, or peacocks, the
Tamil for which is tngai, and it is most probable that the Arabian Sabean
traders got these birds, apes and sandal-wood from the Indian Travankor
traders, where these articles are indigenous. Indeed, sandal-wood grew only
there, and the coasting tirbes would transport it to the Abirs at the mouths of
the Indus, which would lead Hebrews to say it came from Ophir or Abirea.
have been written, that the commercial intercourse be-
tween India, the Persian Gulf, the Red Sea and the
Mediterranean was ever completely interrupted.
He sees traces of the far East in the treasures dug
up from the depths of ancient Troy, just as we have
found gold coins, etc., of Thrakian, Persian, Parthian,
Greek and Skythian, at Banares — pait of that great
"drain of 550 millions of sesterces," which Pliny tells
us Indians took annually from the West (VI, 26).
We now know that the literature of Buddhism has
been the source of much of our oldest folk-lore, legends
and parables — a Sanskrit fable appearing, says Max
Midler, in one of the comedies of Strattis of about 400
B.C., and "the judgment of Solomon " (in regard to di-
viding a living child in two) appearing in a much more
human form in the Tibetan Buddhist Tripitaka*
If fables and legends so traveled, how much more
would the great sayings and doings of a mighty prophet
— one who swayed and guided the most earnest thoughts
of many millions over a fifth of the earth's surface — be
wafted into lands eagerly listening to every breath or
sound on these subjects? And that they were earnest in
their search, we see from divers ancient sources.
Until lately direct evidence of the path of Buddhism
westward has been scanty, but continually increasing;
and European scholars, though hitherto reticent, have
more and more recognized the faith in many distinctive
features of the Putha-goru, Essenic, and Alexandrian
schools, which especially rose in favor when the knowl-
edge of Eastern thought brought back by the savans
and armies of Alexander the Great began to permeate
the West. All these were growths which it is for us to
try and trace. Out of a wide-spread heterogeneous
archaic Buddhism arose that ethical wave of neo-Bud-
dhism which impelled Gotama Buddha to resist the
tyranny of the old faiths as well as the cold agnostic
philosophies of the Sankya schools of Kapila Vastu.
In the West Buddhism found a fitting nidus, and un-
doubtedly enormously facilitated the advance of all the
ethical teaching ascribed to "the Great Galilean."
The Western world was, some three centuries B.C.,
tiring of the dry Vedanta-like metaphysics such as
Buddha had contended against, and all the Cabala-like
doctrines which Putha-goras and his successors had
labored to instill. These continued to grow, evolving
later into the ethical and theistic theories of the Stoics.
But the learning and philosophies, however religious,
from Putha-goras, and Xenophanes of 530, through the
times of Protagoras, the "first Sophist" or "Atheist,"
and Anaxagoras to Zenon of 250 B.C., seemed a forced
culture too high and advanced for the masses. They
could but gaze in bewilderment at the teaching of Stoas
and Groves, and wonder what it all meant and what
* India: What Can It Teach Us f p. io-ii, and Rhys David's Buddhist
Birth-Stories.
THE OPEN COURT.
417
they were expected to do, for this is the first and a cru-
cial question with the busy work-a-day world.
The people were still in the spiritualistic stage by
nature and inclination. They required miracles and de-
manded the divine right of all who taught religion.
Mere laborers for "the meat which perishes," they
firmly believed in spirits or gods in and around them,
and could see no religion apart from divine inspiration —
that greatest of all miracles, or at least Divine intuition
— the Sam-bodhi which Buddha had to confront even
in the colleges of Nalanda.
Only cultured Stoics could appreciate the higher
Buddhism, and these, says Bishop Lightfoot, "essen-
tially followed Buddha, first, as to a common belief in
the supreme good derived by the practice of virtue;
secondly, in self-reliance and the assertion of conscience;
and thirdly, in the reality of the intuitional apprehen-
sion of truth." Stoicism, he continues, "was, in fact,
the earliest offspring of the union between the religious
consciousness of the East and the intellectual culture of
the West, * * * (for) Zeno, the Phenician, zcas a
child of the East, and only when his stoicism had East-
ern affinities did it differ seriously from the schools of
Greek philosophy. To these affinities may be attributed
the intense moral earnestness which was its charac-
teristic" {'Epist. Phil? II, 273). What truer Bud-
dhism could there be, than such as this which then
echoed and re-echoed from Grove to Stoa? — "Submit,
my brothers, without grumbling to the unavoidable
necessity by which all things are governed. Free thy-
self from all passions and be unmoved in joy as in sor-
row." Compare also our Canonical Ecclesiastes which
was written about 200 B.C. and is full of Buddhistical
stoicism.
But let us seek more facts showing how knowledge
on all subjects was transmitted in ancient times. In 500
B.C., China received from Babylon much of its myth-
ology and legendary history, and about 425 B.C., as
General Cunningham's archaeological researches show,
India had cognizance of most European styles of archi-
tecture, and that of Ionia and Corinth almost as soon as
these styles were practised by Greeks. Ezra and Nehe-
miah had just then come up from the temples of Baby-
lon well acquainted with all that was going on in the
East, and had begun editing the Old Testament. Sok-
rates had, a generation back, consorted with an Eastern
monk and many magi, The second great Buddhist
Council had been held, urging missionary efforts, and
the Buddhistic "Jaina Sutras" and most of the Indian
epics were well known. From 400 to 440 we have
much Buddhistic teaching in Plato, Epikuros, Pyrrho,
Aristotle, and others, and we hear the latter speak of
the Indo-Buddhistic "Kalani" in connection -with sup-
posed Jews; and when, in 330, Alexander the Great
and his 3,000 savans were on their way farther east — to
Baktria and India — Buddhism was strong from the
Oxus and Heri-rud to farthest India, Siam and her
;sland groups. By 317 B.C., the energetic Chandra
Gupta, Emperor of Northern India, had married a
daughter of Seleukos, and expelled the Greeks from
India; but Megasthenes, the Greek ambassador, and
his staff were still with the emporer, compiling histories
of India, its kings, peoples, religions, rites and customs;
and another Indian Sraman or Buddhist monk, the Ka-
lanos before mentioned, had shown the West how indif-
ferent the pious should be to this world, its joys or pains,
by mounting a burning pyre in sight of the multitudes
of Persepolis. We have evidence says Professor Beal,
that about this time Greek plays passed into India direct
from Alexandria to Baroch or Baroda, and northward
to Ujain, the viceroyalty of the young Asoka, though
they might more easily have passed from Baktria, then
an independent Greeko- Buddhist kingdom. Jews had
compiled their Chronicles, and Berosus his histories of
nations, their genesis and faiths, and Greeks were then
translating the Zand Avesta from the Pehlvi, as Greek
Jews were their Pentateuch from the Hebrew. The
age was alive everywhere with busy thinkers and writ-
ers, whom the Greeks and other savans of the shattered
armies of Alexander had stirred into life and formed
into literary centers, from the Ganges to the Oxus, and
all over Mesopotamia- even into the desert capital of
Zenobia, then a link between East and West.
Darmestettr says that " the plays of yEschylos and
Sophokles were read at the Parthian court, and the rela-
tionship between Parthia and Western Asia was very
close," — how much closer with Buddhistic India and
Baktria? Buddhism had of course indirectly attracted
the attention of Jews through the Eastern Parthians,
and Josephus states* that the Parthian prince, Pacorus
(well acquainted with Buddhism), ruled over Syria. from
Jerusalem as a capital, and he quotes Aristotle as say-
ing (about 340 B.C.?) that the Jews of Ccele-Syria were
Indian philosophers called in the East, Calami''''
(Kalani?) or "sugar-cane people," and only Jews be-
cause they lived in Judea. These "Jews," said Aristotle,
derived from Indian philosophers wonderful fortitude
in life, diet atid continence. They were, in fact, Bud-
dhists, whom the great Greek confounded with some
Syrians."}- Now the "sugar-cane people" of India were
the Ikshvakas (in Pali, Okkakis)— the name of Bud-
dha's family — and they were Sakas, Sakyas, or Aryan
Scyths, who had an ancient settlement near the mouth of
the Indus at Kala-mina, the black- land (?)— Aristotle's
* Contra Apian, I, 2, and cf. Hardy's Man. of Bud., 135, 3— quoting Csama
de Korasi's paper in Bengal Asiatic oi Aug. 1SS3; And. Sit. Lit., 40S; Lije o
Bud., 403; and Bud. in China, by Professor Beal, 65, 260.
+ This is not strange, for Jews appeared to try and identify themselves with
many stocks. Josephus quotes occasions when they are called Parthians and
Lacedemonians. They were then as now great traders, travelers, and captives
or slaves, even to Greeks.— Joel, IX, 6; Ants., XII, 4-10.
4 ib
THE OPEN COURT.
Calami and our Potala or Tata a place holy in
Christian tradition as being the city where St. Thomas
died, and where, therefore, he and his, would readily ob-
tain all the Buddhist doctrines then long current among
Syrian and Judean Essenes, etc.
Such foundations and wide-spread growths could not
fail to influence the then rising Christian literature, and
there was ample time for them to do so even if the Gos-
pels were fixed and recognized in the first half of the
second century ; how much more so, if as the learned
author of Supernatural Religion and others show-
there was no trace of them among the churches till
about 175 a.c. Kalamina was well known as the early
pre-Indian home of the Ikshvaku or "sugar-cane" line
of kings, and from hence they moved upward to Ujain
and Oudh, where they rose to become the royal line of
Ayodhya,* and this accounts for the many non-Indian
peculiarities in the forms and dress of Buddha, as seen in
his images a fact which has long made scholars suspect
his trans-Indian origin. Well may a reverend professor
say: We have thus on the Indus, in 350 B.C., "a covert
reference to Buddha's family, and perhaps to Bud-
dhists." Now, history shows us that Babylon was con-
sidered by many the headquarters of the Jewish faith
from the second century B.C. to the first century a.c.i
and that to it the learned and pious of Jerusalem ever
looked as their city of light and learning, and, says the
Mishna, even flashed the news of the appearance of the
new moon toward it from Mount Olivet, as did Mala-
chis'"Sun of Righteousness" flash his first morning
ray over the sacred mountain into the carefully oriental
sanctuary on the haram.
From the third century B.C., Jews spread all over
Babylonia into Baktria and the farthest East; and the
highest recommendation a member of the holy city
could then advance was, that he had been in the San-
hedrim of Babylon, as in the case of the wise Hillel of
Christ's time, who was educated in the Babylonian
schools. " Balk, the Mother of Cities," as Hwen Tsang
calls it in his Afemoires, was visited by him because of
its very ancient Buddhist history; and there, in our
seventh century, he reverently studied the ruins of the
great Nan Bihar, or " New Monastery." He tells
us "it was constructed by tlie first king of this mother
of cities" pointing to a vast age, for even so old a pre-
Gotama centre, and confirming the testimony of relics
which are being found in the ruins of this celebrated
Vihar — see Rawlinson's Central Asia, and remarks on
"the Buddha preceding Sakya Muni."
Eusebius, St. Augustine,f and several orthodox
fathers, point to a kind of Christianity before Christ,
with Sunday services of prayer and praise, like those
which arose in our second century; in fact all Western
Asia, from the third century B.C., was excited on these
subjects; and if we believe the legends of the churches,
it was on this account that St. Thomas and other Chris-
tians pressed eastward in search of the Eastern focus.
* Asoka claimed to sj.ririL; from t il lir*l Okkaka king— Hardy, p. 1,5.1. lli>
grandfather Chandra, the Gurla, of the South Indus dynasty, there first raised the
banner, which he bore In the walls of Palibothra or Patna, where he
established his Muuryan dynasty. All these were Sakyas like Gotama Sakya-
Muni.
|<l < ,l, ,./ <;,;!, and the Rev. I» Is. Taylor's And. Christ, where he
that Christian mon;isli ism 1 our from India.
THE SIN OF THE ATOM.
BY VIROE.
(mil was lonely — silent space-
Was His sole abiding place-
On the lips of darkness yet
Kiss of love had not been set;
Then by darkness, Power's bride,
This poor dust was vivified,
And the first-born daughter, Light,
Spun the planets from the night;
With her distaff sat to spin
Cords of force to hold them in :
Cords remotest cycles feel
In the whirling of her wheel
So forever, toiling thus,
Light has tarried virtuous;
But the atom scornful stood
In his new, free hardihood,
And before thy life began
On this planet, conscious man,
By the atom disobeyed
Was the law envenomed made.
In the Eden of our race
So was wrought the first disgrace;
Now the atom's guilty stains
Course, death-laden, through our veins:
There our long and bitter plaint;
There the leper's fearful taint ;
There the sudden poison pang
Of the cruel cobra's fang;
There the atom's shameless sin
Let the rabies' virus in,
And .his rebel hardihood
Poisoned nature's perfect blood.
* * * * *
Mortal! so some prouder race
Yet may mourn for thy disgrace,
In some cycle vast and great
That thou canst not estimate.
Man! what knowest thou of man?
What of God's divinest plan?
fool! thou dost, not, canst not know
Mow life's pulses throbbing go, —
THE OPEN COURT.
iq
Canst not tell how far thou art
From the heat of nature's heart;
Nor what nobler veins thy sin
Lets the death-drop virus in.
* * * * *
Vet, in spite of all thou dost,
Light is true, and God is just;
Though temptation may not plead,
Nor thv sorrows intercede,
Though the sting my vision saw
Was ot" death that poisoned law,
And the horror sin has done
Through the deathless cycles run,
In some subtle, perfect way
Out of darkness comes the day;
In some vast alembic, filled
With the false is truth distilled.
TO-MORROW.
TKANSI.ATBD FROM Tilt FRENCH OF VICTOK IILi
BY GOWAN LEA.
The future ours? Ah no,
It is the gods' alone!
The hours are ringing low
"Farewell" in every tone.
The future! Think! Beware!
( )ur earthly treasures rare,
Hard won through toil and care.
Our palaces and lands,
Great victories, and all
Possessions, large and small, —
But only to us fall,
As birds light on the sands!
CORRESPONDENCE.
THE LABOR QUESTION.
To the Editors :
In a note by the editor on the criticism by John Basil Barn-
hill, of the article entitled " Labor Cranks " by James Parton in
The Open Court of April 14, there seems to me to be a half
apologetic tone to the readers, as though the criticism would not
have been published except " by special request," and the editor
adds, "that in our opinion it [the criticism ] tails to do justice to
the meaning and spirit of the article criticized."
It has been to me a source of surprise and sorrow that The
Open Court, which pledges itself to "the independent discus-
sion " of social problems that " are engaging the attention of
thoughtful minds and upon the solution of which depends largely
the highest interests of mankind," was an almost closed Court
to one side of one of the greatest questions that is now being
agitated. Each article that has appeared on the labor question
has apparently deprecated any movement made by the working
class to better their condition, and to these articles there have
been no replies, until at last Mr. Barnhill offers a few words of
criticism on one of these articles, and receives for it something
very like a snub from the editor.
I would like to say a few words with reference to Mr. Par-
Inn's article and Mr. Barnhill's criticism, if the editor will extend
to 1111' the special grace granted Mr. Barnhill, including even the
prospective snub.
If the " meaning and spirit " of the article, which the editot
thinks Mr. Barnhill fails to see, is the elaboration ot Miss Mar
tineau's idea, that the man who is one-sided, with one idea, and
cannot see a subject "by the light of other minds," nor "in its
relation to other ideas," then the editor is right. This is undoubt-
edly the spirit of the article, the one which the editor sees most
prominent. But it is the incident related in the article which
reveals the gradual growing of the writer out of a sympathy with
suffering, into indifference, that has forced itself upon the mind
of Mr. Barnhill, as it has upon the minds of other readers of the
article, who still are able to sympathize with any condition that
humiliates and depresses humanity. Such feel that although Mr.
Parton made then in his early life "a narrow escape from being
a labor crank," he had by his lapse from a tender feeling toward
suffering, done — "one wrong more to man, one more insult to
God."
It is not necessary for Mr. Parton to go back to bovhood and
to England to search for a story of human suffering and wrong.
The storv of any tenement house in New York city to-day, will
move any man or woman who is not educated by fortunate cir-
cumstance into indifference to suffering in the mass, to an "angel's
sorrow," over the wrongs which poverty has wrought to mankind.
That this was the tangible idea to Mr. Barnhill is seen in his
strong language — none too strong — "Mr. Parton," he says,
"admits that he once had much compassion for suffering and
sunken humanity, but this is remembered now only as a youthful
indiscretion. He has so far conquered this effeminate tendency
of his nature that he can now contemplate thousands of his fellow
creatures in misery and ignorance unmoved. "(1) That this is not
too strong language toward Mr. Parton can be seen by re-reading
his article carefully. He has the stock arguments of nearly all
writers upon political economy, and reiterates its pet principles in
the fine writing which pleases the privileged class, but never
reaches the great uncultured mass. Well, I suppose this is better
business than to "brood too much over the sorrows of mankind."
He cites Henry George as an uncommonly gifted writer, a good
citizen, a benevolent man, and "who once studied the works
of other economists and may do so again," which will be far
better for himself and everybody else than "brooding over a state
of things, that has led him into the conclusion, that the land, like
the air and the sea belongs to all the people alike."
It remains to be seen which will be of the greatest benefit to
humanity for Mr. George to study political economists, or to raise
a standard of freedom from the bondage of landlordism.
Men and women who get their ideas from books, and men
and women who get their ideas from contact with the questions
themselves in everyday life are very far apart. What is it Emer-
son says about getting an education at the town pump? I cannot
recall the words, but the idea is well given in an editorial in The
Open Court of the same issue containing Mr. Parton's article-
entitled, "Genuine and Spurious Culture." "The so-called cul-
ture of the age," writes the editor, " lacks in robust intellectual
qualities, without any noble moral purpose, and inspired by no
lofty enthusiasm, serves only to widen the gulf between its disci-
ples and the masses, increasing, on the one side, contempt for
the 'great unwashed' pursuing their prosaic avocations, and
exciting on the other side, aversion to a mere intellectualism
which ignores the hard facts of life, is indifferent to the condition
of the millions, and concerns itself almost wholly with mere
literary questions which have but a remote bearing on the practi-
cal questions of the hour." And again — "There is no culture
worthy of the name which does not include with the acquisition
420
THE OPEN COURT.
of knowledge, development of the moral nature, strengthening
of the love of right and hatred of wrong."
In these words we find the ring of that true all-roundedness
that Miss Martineau meant. If this "meaning and spirit" could
be seen in Mr. Parton's article, or any of the articles published in
The Open Court upon the questions which are agitating the
masses, they would be beyond criticism. They are, however, as
one-sided as any written by " Labor Cranks."
I have grieved over this one-sidedness of The Open Court
because it is the outcome of the dear old Index which I have
cherished from its birth as if it had been a bantling of my own. (2)
It cannot be contradicted that the labor question is one of the
greatest problems of the hour. It is moving the masses, and it
owes its enthusiastic agitation, as much to the "cranks" — the
one-idea agitators, as to the principles involved for benefiting
humanity, for which its agitation stands.
The "crank" has always been .an important fac or in all
reformatory movements. He was the original reformer, agitator
not alwavs agreeable and intelligent, nor able to see his idea
" in its relation to other ideas, nor in the light of other minds,"
but he could stir the unthinking to look up and out of a dreary
depressed rut of superstition or social degradation and was useful.
If the crank has been made by " brooding over the sorrows of
mankind," he has not at least shut his ears to the cry of anguish,
nor steeled his "tender heart to the sight of suffering," but has
tried to do something, though may be not in the most graceful
manner, to show to the world some way by which such suffering
can be made impossible in the future.
This term is applied indiscriminately, so common is its pres-
ent use, to any person who has a hobby — whether it be a phi-
losophy or a philanthropic scheme. The crank of this generation
may be the hero of a later one, as has been the case in the past,
with men and women who have grown cranky by brooding over
the sorrows of mankind, and have in their way helped to move
the car of progress which bears humanity onward toward better
things. A. Bate.
[ (i) We adhere to the opinion that this language conveys a
wrong impression as to the meaning and spirit of Mr. Parton's
article, which showed no lack of sympathy with the cause of labor.
The article having appeared so far back as April, we thought it but
just to Mr. Parton to make the remark to which exception is taken,
and to indicate the number of the paper in which the article was
printed.
(2) The Open Court is not devoted especially to the labor
question ; but its discussion is within the scope of the journal, and
certainly it has neither been excluded from these columns nor one-
sided, as our correspondent may satisfy himself by looking care-
fully through the several numbers of the journal. — Ed.]
BOOK REVIEWS.
A History of England in the Eighteenth Century.
By William Ed-ward Hartpole Lecky. Volumes V. and VI.
New York: D. Appleton & Company, 18S7; pp. 602 and
610. $2.25 each.
These two volumes give the political history of England, Ire-
land and France, from 17S4 to February 1, 1793; and several
topics are extended beyond these dates. Within them the account is
tolerably complete, though there is scarcely any reference to Scot-
land, or to the trial of Warren Hastings, which was so prominent
in the proceedings of Parliament in 17SS. English literature,
which has had only incidental notices in previous volumes, receives
the munificent allowance of ten pages, including three devoted to
Pope; Burns has eight lines, praising him for inserting " a few
strokes of genius " into the old Scotch ballads, but not referring
to the beauty of his own songs or the vigor of his satires-
Lady Nairn is not mentioned on the page given to female
authors, and of Mrs. Macaulay we hear only that she is no
longer read, and not that she ought to be by every one who
wishes to find out how unjustifiable Cromwell's usurpation
really was. It is high time that Americans, at least, should
know more about the republican historian of England, the fearless
defender of the revolution. Still more singular is Lecky's failure
to refer to Scotland's men of science, or to any of her philosophers,
except Hume. Room for all these subjects might easily have
been gained by abridging the three hundred and eleven pages
which treat of Ireland from 1782 to 1793, and which are not likely
to diminish the regret with which the reader learns that Lecky
means to devote his next and last volume entirely to the still
vexed isle and to say nothing more about England, except inci-
dentally. No historian can speak of Ireland with more authority ;
but her history might more properly have been confined to sup-
plementary volumes than been told in chapters which interrupt
the connection of those devoted to English affairs, or else shorten
their space. The latter defect is especially marked in the failure
of the historian of the Rise and Progress of the Spirit of Rational-
ism to give even forty pages to such subjects as the defeat of the
attempts to repeal the laws according to which taking the sacra-
ment of an Episcopalian priest was required of all office-holders,
while belief in Unitarianism, refusal to attend some orthodox
church, and eating meat on fast days were among penal offences.
The age was on the whole growing less intolerant, as is shown by
Mr. Lecky; but he does not give any full view of the many influ-
ences which were cooperating to bring about this great change.
And he forgets how much Voltaire did to make persecution abso-
lute, when he indorses Paley's declaration : " I deem it no infringe-
ment of religious liberty to restrain the circulation of ridicule,
invective and mockery upon religious subjects." The employ-
ment of ridicule against errors about religion should not be forbid-
den, or even regretted, so long as Sabbatarianism makes Sunday
recreation impossible for multitudes who need it grievously, while
the agonies of death from cancer are increased by the credulity
with which the victim obeys the command of the " Christian
Science " quacks, not to use any of the well-known means of
relieving her sufferings, because "In reality there is no pain!"
Mr. Lecky's conservatism also leads him to deprecate the estab-
lishment of universal suffrage and to omit from his elaborate
account of Pitt any reference to those utterances of the great
statesman in favor of Home Rule in Ireland, just published in full
bv Mr. Gladstone. Still more surprising is the assertion, on a
page headed " Conservatism of Freethinkers," that " there is cer-
tainly no natural or necessary affinity between free thinking in
religion and democracy in politics." (Vol. V. p. 309.) What, on
the contrary, is there more natural than the habit of looking at
both religion and politics from the same standpoint? Our own
neighbors are usually as independent and progressive in politics
as in religion; and fair and thorough study of history proves that
it has always been so. Mr. Lecky appeals to the case of Hobbes,
but does not tell us how he disproved the divine right of kings.
Nor does he here mention Henry Martin, Algernon Sidney,
Blount, Collins, Shaftesbury, Franklin, Jefferson, Paine, God-
win, Burns, Mary Wollstonecraft, Catharine Macaulay, and other
democratic freethinkers, though he makes all he can out of Boling-
broke, Hume and Gibbon. So again, we are not told how revolu-
tionary Spinoza was in all directions, though we read that his
contemporary, Bayle, "wrote with horror of the democratic and
seditious principles disseminated among French Huguenots, and
there is no reason to believe that the great writers of the period of
the Encyclopedia were animated by a different spirit." Two of
these writers, Diderot and Holbach, produced together one of
the most democratic and seditious books ever printed, a fact which
Lecky nowhere mentions, though he speaks elsewhere of the
socialistic writings of their contemporaries, Mably and Morelly.
He mentions that Raynal protested against the French revolution
in old age, but not that he had helped to bring it about. The
seven pages about Voltaire do not refer to his sympathy with the
Genevese democrats and American revolutionist; and Rousseau
appeared much more revolutionary, both in theology and politics,
to his own contemporaries than would be supposed from reading
this history. Nothing more need be said about this argument to
prove " Freethinkers not naturally revolutionists," than that it
makes no reference to Mine. Roland or any of her great associates.
These defects in Mr. Lecky's work deserve our notice all
the more on account of his many and well-known merits. He
will always have a prominent place on the book-shelves of
thoughtful and liberal people; and whatever might otherwise be
too revolutionary, in the writers whom we should put beside him,
will be speedily neutralized by his cautious moderation and pru-
dent deference to practical duties and vested rights. F. M. H.
The Open Court.
A Fortnightly Journal,
Devoted to the Work of Establishing Ethics and Religion Upon a Scientific Basis.
Vol. I. No. 16.
CHICAGO, SEPTEMBER 15, 1887.
J Three Dollars per Year.
I Single Copies, 15 cts.
SOME RELATIONS OF SCIENCE TO MORALITY
AND PROGRESS.
BV G. GORE, LL.D., F.R.S.
Part I.
In an address delivered in Birmingham at the unveil-
ing of the statue of Sir Josiah Mason, Sir John Lub-
bock correctly remarked that it is not "merely in a
material point of view that science would benefit this
nation. She will raise and strengthen the national as
surely as the individual character." In illustration of
this statement I would gladly be permitted to make the
following remarks, with the object of showing that our
moral character is being' strengthened by a general
recognition of scientific laws as a foundation of the
chief rules of moral conduct.
It is commonly believed that moral actions are alto-
gether unaffected by scientific conditions; that science
has little or no connection with morality, that it can
shed no light upon the questions of the freedom of the
human will, the origin of sin and evil, etc., and that
moral phenomena cannot be scientifically investigated,
but must be examined by other methods than those usu-
ally employed by scientific researchers.
While earnestly wishing not to disturb the cherished
beliefs of other persons, I venture to say that moral
phenomena have relations to physical and chemical
ones, and are capable of being scientifically investigated,
and that the chief rules of morality have a scientific
foundation. It is well known that the moral faculties
are capable of being strongly affected by a physical
shock to the brain, by intoxicating liquors, drugs, etc.,
and that by placing temptations before persons experi-
ments may be made on their morality. That the physi-
cal state of poverty is a source of crime, and that of
wealth conduces to licentiousness, are also commonly
known facts.
The method of scientific research is alike in all sub-
jects.
The essential nature of truth, viz., universal consist-
ency, or agreement with all known truths, is the same
in all subjects, the chief mental powers employed in dis-
covering truth are also the same in all inquiries, in
morals as in physics and chemistry. There is no easy
method or special faculty, call it "conscience" or what
we will, which enables us to infallibly arrive at truth in
moral questions; we investigate such problems by the
aid of precisely the same intellectual powers and pro-
cesses as we do physical and chemical ones, viz., by
means of perception, observation, comparison, and in-
ference, employed upon the whole of the evidence, by
observing . facts, comparing them and drawing infer-
ences, by analyzing,- combining and examining the evi-
dence in every possible way, and thus arriving at consis-
tent conclusions. What is right and good and what is
wrong and evil are determined by precisely the same
general mental methods as what is true.
But although in investigating moral questions we
must employ the usual intellectual processes we may
arrive at correct conduct in two ways, viz., either blindly
or intelligently; blindly by trusting to our inherited and
acquired tendencies, and intelligently by the conscious
use of our knowledge and intellectual powers.
Morality is an art, consisting of rules which are to
be followed. At present it is in the empirical or dog-
matic state, and has not arrived at the scientific stage or
been hitherto recognized as being based upon funda-
mental scientific principles. We obey certain rules be-
cause they have been found to be good, because we are
told to do so, or because it is the custom, and not be-
cause the rules are enforced by the divine authority of
immutable laws.
Aloral phenomena are subject to the law of causation.
The affairs of this world appear to be governed not
by what we consider strict rules of justice, but by
necessity, i. e., by the fundamental principle of causation
and the other great laws of science. According to the
scientific view of universal causation, the present state
of the universe is a consequence of all its past condi-
tions, and its future is all implicitly contained in the
present, and will be evolved out of it in accordance with
the laws of indestructibility of matter and energy, and the
equivalency of forces. Out of nothing, nothing alone
can come. We can not create anything, not even an idea.
All things are evolved. It has taken ages to evolve our
present state of knowledge. We are wonderfully con-
stituted; while each man is all important to himself,
and often acts as if he was the center of all things, he
is but as an atom upon this great globe, and the earth
itself is only a minute speck in the universe, one amongst
a hundred millions of worlds.
According to the law of causation, whatever is,
under the given conditions, must be. Starvation forces
422
THE OPKN COURT.
a man to steal, and our regard for the safety of our
property compels us to punish him. Whatever is, also
must be, whether it agrees with our ideas of justice or
not; if the number of paupers around us was doubled,
we should have to pay double poor-rate, whether we
helped to produce the increased pauperism or not. Af-
flictions visit the saint as well as the sinner, and we have
no choice but to remain upon this planet and accept
this life with all its pains and penalties.
All animals are as puppets subject to the great physi-
cal powers of the universe. About fifteen hundred
millions of human beings are carried through space
upon the surface of this globe at a rate of about eighty
thousand miles an hour, whether they are willing or
unwilling; and man is only one out of about three hun-
dred and twenty thousand different kinds of living crea-
tures; he is also only permitted to live a limited number
of years, and his body is then compelled to return as
dust to the earth from whence it came. The great
number and variety of diseases and accidents to which
he is subject, show the narrow limits of his power of
resistance to natural influences.
Less important matters must yield to greater ones.
By the unavoidable laws of nature, less important
objects are obliged to yield to greater, life of all kinds
is ruthlessly sacrificed when more serious interests are at
stake. The wholesale destruction of human life and
happiness by earthquakes, famines, volcanoes, storms
and floods, takes place utterly regardless of the suffer-
ings and cries of mankind. The preservation of human
life is of less importance than the proper adjustment of
terrestrial forces and the operation of great natural laws.
By a single earthquake in Java about thirty-two thou-
sand persons were killed and multitudes injured, rend-
ered homeless and insane; during famines in India, mill-
ions of human beings have died in an entirely helpless
state by the fearful process of starvation, and the simple list
of earthquakes, floods, and famines within historic times
would fill a volume. "In Japan earthquakes occur at the
rate of two a day." (Nat //re, Vol. XX XIV, p. 456.)
Various religious beliefs, also, which afforded consolation
to millions of believers, are gradually being sacrificed to
the resistless progress of new knowledge, regardless of
the mental suffering thus occasioned.* Science, however,
has already by means of telegraphs and steam locomo-
tion, nearly rendered famines impossible, and will prob-
ably in due time, render more uniform and more consist-
ent with truth some of our religious beliefs, and thus
harmonize religion itself.
The idea of Evil is essentially human.
Probably, in the view of an infinite intelligence,
whatever is, is right, and all that is, is good, but our
•The Par-see priest, who, after having traveled a great distance to worship
thi sacred tire" at Baku, is shocked to find the object of his devotions sur-
rounded by oily derricks, petroleum reservoirs, oil distilleries, the machinery of
dcrn 1 I'im e and .' busy manufacturing population.
intelligence is extremely finite, and therefore whatever
causes pain, unhappiness, or discomfort to sentient crea-
tures, especially to ourselves, we, in the narrowness of
our views, call an evil, and he who wilfully does an evil
act is termed a sinner. A volcanic outburst on an
uninhabited planet would not be considered an evil,
because it would not affect sentient creatures. We fear
pain as if it was always an evil, but it is usually a check
to wrong conduct and is often of great good in warning
us to take care of our life. The endurance of pain often
secures to us greater subsequent pleasure. Injuries and
benefits are alike due to natural agencies, and pain and
evil are results of the same causes as that which is good
and pleasant; the same cold atmosphere which kills the
feeble, invigorates the strong, the rain falls where we do
not as well as where we do require it, the same wind which
wafts a ship to port detains the outward bound. All
evil and good is relative, and that which is a curse to one
man is often a blessing to another; money is a blessing to
the wise, but often a curse to the foolish.
The Scientific basis of Rules of Morality.
No one but a person ignorant of science would deny
the supremacy of scientific laws over the existence and
actions of mankind, or that the principles of science con-
stitute a foundation of rules of human conduct. The
laws of nature are the commands of God, and are cer-
tainly a basis of moral as well as of physical guidance;
the first rule of righteousness, " That zee should do unto
another as zee would have him do unto us under like,
circumstances" is manifestly based upon the great law
of causation, viz, that " the same cause always produces
the same effect under like conditions;" and if this law
was uncertain the rule would be unsafe. Herein lies a
fundamental and scientific basis of morality, which every
teacher of that subject will probably have to study.
The Scientific basis of Life and Consciousness.
That our existence depends upon physical and chem-
ical circumstances, is admitted by all intelligent persons;
no one will deny that air and warmth are necessary to
our existence, or that foods sustain and poisons destroy
life. Not only our existence but also our consciousness
of existence, depends essentially upon scientific condi-
tions, the same fundamental circumstance, viz, inequality
of impression which compels a stone to move or a vol-
taic couple to produce an electric current, excites a man
to feel and think and this non-uniformity of impression
as the basis of consciousness and thought is known as
" the theory of relativity of impression." We cannot
even think of an event in time or a point in space, with-
out reference to some other event or point, without a
difference of impression we can distinguish nothing.
Time, space and the rapid motion of the earth in its orbit
being perfectly uniform in their influence upon us, are
not directly peiceptible to our senses; and even the pres-
sure of the atmosphere while it is uniform is not
THE OPEN COURT.
423
perceived. When we wish to lose consciousness and
thought, or fall asleep, we exclude as completely as we
can all changes of impression, of motion, sound, light,
pain and pleasure; unusual and changing impressions
prevent slumber.
Scientific necessity consistent with freedom of Will.
The question of freedom of the will is elucidated by
science. Man is as truly and probably as completely
subject to causation as is a stone or a plant. The human
will is not a causeless phenomenon, it is determined by
motives, by influences within and around us, potent
causes, such as alcohol within, or danger to life from with-
out, powerfully affect our volition. If, as is sometimes
asserted, volition was a " supernatural power," experi-
ments could not be made upon it by means of alcohol,
drugs, etc. We often cannot detect our own motives,
because we cannot think and at the same time com-
pletely survey our act of thought, the two simultaneous
actions in the same organ being incompatible. The
freedom of the will is limited, we are only really free
when we conform to natural laws, and we are usually
restrained when we attempt to disobey them; the larger
our knowledge of natural laws the greater our freedom
of volition. There are bounds of freedom of action
which we may not exceed, we are more free to obey
moral rules than to infringe them, we are much less free
to do evil than to do good, less to cause pain than to
confer pleasure, but all living creatures are free to inflict
pain upon others in certain cases, especially when it is
necessary in order to maintain life, and this is the basis
of justification of animal slaughter, of all surgical oper-
ations and of so-called " vivisection " experiments.
These scientific facts agree with and reconcile the seem-
ingly contradictory doctrines of free will and necessity.
But, notwithstanding that we are usually more con-
strained to do right than wrong by the influence of
natural laws and circumstances, we still appear to be
able to control our own actions and do as we like within
certain limits. This power of self-regulation, however,
so commonly regarded as a proof of conscious free-
dom, is not so, because it is possessed by various inani-
mate mechanisms, a steam engine for example, which,
by its action upon an intermediate agent, the governor,
regulates its own speed.
Scietitific basis of Sin and Evil.
Scientific knowledge sheds light upon the origin of
evil, sin and suffering. The very existence of evil is
dependent upon non-uniformity of cerebral impression ;
if there was no inequality of such impression there would
be no consciousness, and therefore no pain or unhappi-
ness, sin or evil. Consciousness of pleasure as the result
of obedience, and of pain or unhappiness as the effect of
error or disobedience, operate as regulators of conduct,
and largely compel us to act rightly. The existence of
evil is also related to the size and condition of the human
brain; perfectly moral conduct would probably necessi
tate perfect knowledge, and perfect knowledge would
probably require an infinitely perceptive and perfect
brain, but a man's brain can only retain a finite number
of ideas and a very limited amount of knowledge. A
perfect man would be a god and have infinite percep-
tion and intelligence, but as man does not possess these
attributes, he has no infallible guide to correct conduct;
" conscience " does not absolutely tell him, and reason,
based upon very limited knowledge, is the final but falli-
ble arbiter in all cases.
New scientific knowledge diminishes evil.
Knowledge is frequently indispensable to moral con-
duct; there are plenty of difficult cases in life in which
the desire to do right is not sufficient; the commission of
evil is usually a result of ignorance, and if men could in
all cases foresee and completely realize all the conse-
quences of their acts, they would rarely commit sin.
The results of wrong doing are essentially the same,
whether it is intentional or accidental. The evil which
we are absolutely compelled to do is not necessarily
immoral. The chief causes of sin and error are the finite
capacities of our brain, the incompleteness of human
knowledge and defective training and education. Man's
ignorance is gigantic. " Knowledge is power" and new
truth makes us free. It is increased knowledge which
makes men more free to act rightly, and it is largely by
the discovery and dissemination of truth that science con-
duces to morality. Truth is divine and the great scien-
tific laws which govern the universe and mankind are
divine commands, and those who, either through igno-
rance or intention disobey them, do so at their peril. It
is a conspicuous fact that those who profess to study and
inculcate divine commands, largely omit to study and
expound these, there is, however, a sufficient cause for
this. If those laws were generally known and acknowl-
edged, there would be more unanimity of religious
belief and a less amount of sectarian strife.
ARE WE PRODUCTS OF MIND ?
BY EDMUND MONTGOMERY, M.D.
Part I.
I. Voluntary movement the key to the problem.
A solid scientific basis cannot be given to ethics and
religion before the following question is definitely set-
tled : In what relation does mind or consciousness actually
stand to our own body and to physical nature in general ?
No scientifically warranted answer has gained cur-
rency thus far. It has not yet become certain whether
our bodily organization is an outcome of mental effi-
ciency, or whether mind is, on the contrary, an outcome
of organic activity, or whether mind and the organism
are two separate but intercommunicating entities.
It is quite certain, however, that our ethics and
religion have always taken shape, and will continue to
424
THE OPEN COURT.
take shape, in accordance with our faith in one or the
other of these modes of connection, believed to subsist
between the two constituents of our seemingly dual
nature.
Now, if we desire to build on a firm scientific foun-
dation, and not go on blindly surmising or eternally
see-sawing, we have seriously to grapple with the prob-
lem, however abstruse and uninviting this task may
appear to many. There is, indeed, much likelihood
that, before long, scientific philosophy will succeed in
solving it, for it is a riddle whose parts are all openly
manifest.
I have recently drawn the attention of the readers of
this journal to a scientifically grounded attempt at solu-
tion of this great problem of mind and organization on
the part of one of our foremost students of organic evo-
lution; and they have since had the privilege of becom-
ing acquainted with a concise and forcible statement of
it by its own author.
In this his very courteous and highly interesting reply
to my criticism, Professor Cope does not feel compelled to
budge one inch from his former position. He still main,
tains "that mind is a property of matter in energetic
action; or, in other words, that mind is the property of
some kind of energy;" that, if this be admitted, then
"mind is the property of something which possesses
momentum, and is also a property of some kind of
motion," and " as these are the conditions essential to the
communication of motion to other matter, mind can con-
trol matter, (a. c. d.) "
lie " awaits with interest a disproval of these posi-
tions."
To this pithy declaration of his leading propositions
it may at once be objected that the " energy " endowed
by Professor Cope with the additional efficiency of con-
sciouslv deflecting matter from its mechanical path is a
power nowise recognized in physical science. It is here
an entirely novel agency, and it involves as complete a
petitio principil as can well be found, for it assumes,
unproved, to start with, all that is called in question,
namely, that " mind can control matter." From the
premise, that "matter in energetic action" "can be con-
scious," it does by no means legitimately follow that this
accompanying consciousness is able to control the ener-
getic activity of the otherwise purely mechanical motion
of such matter.
The only " energy " hitherto recognized by physical
science— the very same science of objective observation
to which Professor Cope professes faithfully to adhere —
this " energy " is strictly and solely the power which
moving matter possesses of working absolutely precise
mechanical effects upon other matter. Therefore, no
amount of consciousness superadded to this power can
possibly affect the physical result. Even fully admitting
Professor Cope's fundamental proposition that " energv
can be conscious," it would not be the consciousness ot
the energy, but the energy itself, namely, y2 Mv2
which does all the moving. This is incontestably the
doctrine taught by our present physical science in accord-
ance with its a posteriori method, and there is no get-
ting round it, unless you upset it altogether.
Besides, " energy " cannot properly be called " a
property of matter." Energy is matter itself in mechan-
ical motion, and its effects are always mechanically
wrought on other matter — never on the matter which is
its own vehicle. But it is clear that consciousness, in
order to control matter, would have, first of all, to impart a
designed motion to the very matter in which it itself
resides.
Leaving, however, physical science out of sight, is it
not anyway rather strange that the property of a thing
should be able to control the thing itself, of which it is
a mere property ? And stranger still that " the property
of a property " should reach all the way back and con-
trol the very matrix in which it inheres and on which its
very existence is consequently dependent ?
These few remarks seem to me to contain a sufficient
disproval of Professor Cope's positions. But the real
question under consideration lies much deeper; and as it is
a most momentous one I will go to the root of it by assert-
ing that whoever believes that mental power of some
kind is moving our body has consistently to adopt all
the tenets of Professor Cope's Theology of 'Evolution. If
we really move our limbs by dint of the mental power
generally called " will " — and how many theologians,
philosophers and scientist are there who are not com-
mitted to this assumption? — then it can be consistently
concluded that our entire body, with all its vital func-
tions, has been originated by a like mental power, and
that such mental power must be inherent in wholly
unorganized matter.
All those, then, who believe that it is mental effi-
ciency by which we are controlling our body should
clearly understand that Professor Cope's strange evolu-
tional and theological conclusions are the only scien-
tifically warranted outcome of this almost universally
accepted order of dependence. If the alleged relation
proves true, then we need seek no further for a well-
grounded creed; for Professor Cope has, in that case,
established the only consistent one, and he has done this
with a profusion of scientific means unknown to those
who before him have raised theological superstructures
on th*same foundation.
Hitherto it has been mainly the obvious and wonder-
ful adaptation of living forms to their surroundings and
aims of life, that has afforded a powerful plea for the
direct workmanship of a supreme mind. And the
argument for such a consciously designing interference
with physical nature on the part of a divine intelligence,
was here also experientally supported solely by the
THE OPEN COURT.
425
assumed fact, that our own mind originates our volun-
tary movements, and gives them their purposive direction.
But the phenomena of instinct, in which purposive
activities of a marvelous kind are evidently a direct
outcome of consciousless organization, seemed seriously
to invalidate the only plausible premise, from which the
argument of design derived its convincing power. In
the latter part of last century, however, the doctrine
that instincts are the outcome of former conscious expe-
rience and activities, which have become bodily organ-
ized in the race, began to be formulated. And the
well-known fact that conscious activities tend, even dur-
ing individual life, to become "automatic" gave strong
confirmation to this opinion, rendering it, in fact, all but
certain.
Now the question here is the same as everywhere in
this discussion. Are the activities which we experience
as accompanied bv consciousness really originated and
directed by it? If so, then Professor Cope is right
from beginning to end. For if consciousness originates
specific activities, and if these specific activities, by being
frequently originated by consciousness, compel the mate-
rial in which they manifest themselves gradually to
assume that peculiar constitution, which enables it after-
ward to perform these same activities without the help
of consciousness — then it is incontestable that conscious-
ness and nothing else has done the entire work of
organization, imparting to it, moreover, specific energies
by which it becDmes capable of performing definite
vital functions. And, as higher vitality and higher
organization are wrought by successive degress on a
basis of lower vitality and lower organization, beginning
with morphologically wholly unorganized material
which is manifesting only most primitive vital activities,
it may consistently be concluded that vitality and organ-
ization are in all their gradations the exclusive product
of conscionsness. But as such constructive conscious-
ness cannot be deemed competent to create out and out
the very material upon which it is working, it must
necessarily be itself inherent in the least organized kind
of matter found in existence, and this is as far as we
know, the interstellar ether. Consciousness, in this
light, is imperishable. In organic nature it securely
withdraws, step by step, from its organized product,
leaving at last its entire manufactured and worn out
shell behind.
These are the principal tenets of the Theology of
Evolution, all founded, not as Professor Cope believes
on "observed phenomena," according to the a -posteriori
method, but on the single a priori assumption, that it is
our mind which is originating the movement of our
limbs. This foundation granted — and it is actually
granted by all thinkers who believe in the motor power
of mental volition — I myself confidently join Professor
Cope in awaiting " the disproval of these positions."
Evolution has become the almost universally adopted
creed of our age, and the time has arrived when a
more searching and exhaustive view of it has to be
formulated. Is it really only the result of selected for-
tuitous variations? Or rather the effect of the mixing
of divers reproductive elements? Or perhaps the conse-
quence of adaptive modifications wrought exclusively
by the influences of the medium ? Or the outcome of
fatalistic mechanical combinations in keeping with the
principle of the conservation of energy? Or, on the
contrary, the constant work of premeditated design on
the part of a supreme consciousness? Or, at least, the
work of mental power emanating from the organic
individual? Or is it merely our own imperfect illusory
apprehension in time-shattered glimpses of a perfect
reality, which is eternally and simultaneously abiding
in universal thought? Or is it, finallv, in all verity,
what it experientially appears to be, namely, the grad-
ual intrinsic elaboration of individuated living substance,
by dint of multifold modes of interaction with its
medium?
We are nearly all convinced that evolution takes
place. We desire to know more fully how it takes
place, and what it really signifies.
In this search for further and more profound eluci-
dation the evolutional views of the neo-Lamarckian
school, to which Professor Cope, with the help of
recent biological progress and his own original
researches, has given consistent expression, must be
deemed highly important. They are radically opposed
to prevailing biological and philosophical- conceptions.
It is evident that they are in glaring contrast with the
teaching of mechanical biologists, who have long been in
the ascendant in the scientific world, and who are holding
that in organic nature no other power is operative, than
that very same mechanical force or energy, which they
declare to be the moving efficiency in inorganic nature.
And they are in glaring contrast also with the teaching
of idealistic thinkers, who deny altogether the existence
of anvthing but mind and its various modes.
It is significant that — devoting his attention to bio-
logical researches of quite another kind than those I
have been pursuing — Professor Cope was led, as well
as myself, to adopt anti-mechanical views of evolution.
Indeed, the close and critical study of any kind of
organic process, renders evident the truth, that here, at
all events, the combination of material particles and the
energies displayed by such combinations, are of an
altogether hyper-mechanical nature. And this scientific-
ally well-grounded insight seems to me to constitute an
essential advance, not only in biology, but also in
physics.
It was direct observation of this anti-mechanical
state of things which first induced me to question the
general validity of the principle of the conservation of
1 -'''
THE OPEN COURT.
<r^
energy. For how could this supreme mechanical prin-
ciple be generally true, when it proved to be incompati-
ble with the facts of organic constitution and evolution?
If Professor Cope had chanced to come across the
papers, in which I attack the mechanical view of nature,
pleading for the existence of specific energies, as natur-
ally belonging to special material combinations, he
would have understood my scientific position. He
would have found that I, in opposition to the mechan-
ical physicists have long been holding, that energy or
motion is not an entity separable from the substratum
which forms its vehicle, and therefore not transferable
from one substance to another, as now universally
taught in physical science. And knowing this, he
would not have accused me of arguing about energy as
if it were "a concept distinct from matter." He would
also have become aware, that I, like himself, am a firm
believer in specific or hyper-mechanical modes of energy.
My first paper in Mind bore the title, "The Depend-
ence of Quality on Specific Energies?"1
THE POSITIVE VIRTUES.
BY PROFESSOR THOMAS DAVIDSON.
Part I.
In the Shorter Catechism, which every Presby-
terian is supposed to know by heart, there is a question :
What is sin? The answer to it is: Sin is any want of
conformity unto or transgression of the law of God.
Here the law of God is recognized as the 'NV.orm of
human action, and two kinds of departure from that
svorm are distinguished — sins of omission and sins of
commission. There are many excellent things in the
Shorter Catechism, and this is one of them. The law
of God is the worm of human action, and there are two
forms of departure from that law.
What is the law of God ? It is the ultimate law of
universal being; it is the fundamental law of the uni-
verse. No matter how we conceive God, if he is the
Supreme Being, this must always be true, and this,
indeed, is all that is necessary for us to know. As a
being is, so will he act. There is no possible departure
from that law. Even God, therefore, be he what he
may, must act in accordance with the laws of his being,
and if he be the Supreme Being, he must act in accord-
ance with the laws of being itself. The law of God,
therefore, is the supreme law of being. And this law
is the worm of the actions of all that is. All laws are
but partial expressions of this law — suited for partial
application. The two possible forms of departure from
this law we call sins of omission and sins of commission.
The former are failures to do what the law requires;
the latter, perpetrators of what the law forbids. Cor-
responding to these sins or vices are two classes of
virtues, which, for symmetry's sake, we may call virtues
uf omission and virtues of commission. The former
consist in refraining from doing what the law forbids;
the latter, in doing what the same law enjoins. Now if
we call the point which separates the line of the omis-
sive virtues from that of the commissive virtues zero, all
departures from omissive virtue, that is, all sins of
omission will be negative, while all positive com-
missive virtues will be positive. If, then, a man should
do nothing forbidden by the law of God, and at the
same time should do nothing which it positively
enjoins, he would be at the zero-point of virtue. He could
not be called vicious or sinful, nor could he be called
virtuous. On the other hand, if a man had failed to
observe some of the interdicts of the law, and done
some of the things which it positively enjoined, he
might, if the latter were more numerous or important,
have a balance of positive virtue in his favor. In other
words, a man, though disregarding many of the thou-
shalt-not's of the law, might, by strenuously carrying
out some of its thou-shalt's, be on the whole a virtuous
man.
This is a view of virtue and vice that is very rarely
taken, and the reason of the fact is not hard to find. It
lies in the conviction entertained by all the nations of
Christendom that man is a fallen creature— a conviction
which has sunk so deep that I once heard it gravely
and solemnl)' asserted from the platform of the non-
Christian Ethical Society of Chicago. The lecturer,
on that occasion, told his assembled congregation that
all things in the universe, guided by the unknowable,
were what they were meant and intended to be, the
only exception being man. Man alone had fallen
below his ideal. The result of this belief in man's fall
and depravity has been that his whole moral aim has
been to get back to the zero-point of virtue, from which
he started, from which he fell. Of course, at his crea-
tion (supposing him to have been created) he could not
have any virtue, since all virtue lies in action exerted
freely and intelligently; he was at the zero-point of
virtue.
Now it is one of the glories of the doctrine of evolu-
tion, indeed its chief moral glory, that it has overthrown
this doctrine of human depravity — a doctrine following
naturally enough from the notion of creation, as one can
easily see. The doctrine of evolution teaches us that
man, so far from being the only depraved being in the
universe, is the noblest being in it, so far as we know.
It might, indeed, even go much' further and show that
man is the only being known to us who has any virtue,
any moral nature, any power of being virtuous or other-
wise. Evolution shows that man, instead of being a
fallen creature, is continually rising. What has at times
made him look like a fallen creature is the fact that he
is a moral being and has an ideal of himself quite differ-
ent from and superior to, his reality. A dog can never
seem fallen to himself, because he has no ideal of himself.
THE OPEN COURT.
427
Dante, in the first canto of the Paradiso, while stand-
ing on the summit of the Mount of Purgatory, and before
beginning his ascent toward heaven, says: "If I, alone
by myself, was that which thou didst originally create,
O love which governest the heavens, thou knowest, thou
that with thy light didst lift me up." In other words,
Dante surmises that, at the end of a course in purgatory,
man only gets back to his original state of innocence.
He was created perfect, fell, and at the end of all his
moral efforts, gets back just to where he began — the zero
point of virtue. This is the pessimistic and dishearten-
ing view of human life, that has pervaded the Christian
Church from the beginning, that pervades it now — a
view against which every man who loves his kind and
wishes to see it advance in self-respect and spirituality,
ought to protest with all his might. Man's fall is a bar-
barous myth, the source of other barbarous myths, such
as the incarnation and the atonement. Of course, if
there was no fall, there was no need or place for atone-
ment. And this is the actual fact.
But not only has the fable of a fall degraded human
nature in its own eyes, and thereby enervated it ; it has
had a most injurious effect upon the whole theory and
practice of moral life. It has made the whole aim of
that life to be a striving to attain the zero-point of virtue,
a mere freedom from vice; mere blamelessness. When
Christianity in its ecclesiastical form held sway over the
minds of men, its highest ideal was monasticism, whose
entire aim was blamelessness, moral zero. What were
the three vows with which the monk and the nun bound
themselves. Poverty, chastity and obedience. In other
words, they vowed to refrain from the use of the foods
of the outer, material world, from the use of their bodies,
and from the use of the active powers of the soul.
They made, as they said, a complete sacrifice of them-
selves; and in this they gloried as their greatest merit.
In order to avoid doing evil with their souls, bodies and
belongings, they, as far as possible, refrained from using
them at all, shrunk from having any responsibility for
them. This is the strict meaning of the monastic vow,
by keeping which men and women expected to attain
blamelessness. So they folded their hands and their
knees, and instead of toiling manfully for their daily
bread, and instead of conquering the tendency to evil
by filling their time and minds with strong actions
tending to good, they prayed to a power outside of them :
" Give us this day our daily bread. * * Lead us not
into temptation, but deliver us from evil." I suppose it
will be considered almost blasphemy to speak against
the Lord's prayer, as the old prayer from the Talmud is
called in Christian societies, nevertheless the two petitions
which I have cited are unmanly and therefore immoral.
Man's business is to work for his daily bread, not to beg
for it, and by doing good work, to leave no room for
temptation to evil. And when a man does toil for his
daily bread, he has a right to it against all the world.
If a man had any ground for praying at all, he ought
to pray not "deliver me from evil," but "encourage
me to do good."
The monastic view of life, which is simply the
Christian view carried to its ultimate consequences, is
completely selfish — selfishness looking a long way
ahead, and making an omnipotent power its abettor. A
Dominican monk once said to me: "We rejoice in
being persecuted. Every persecution which we undergo
is so much merit in God's sight, so much promise of
future bliss." I replied: "But how about those who
persecute you? Are you glad that they, by sinning, in
persecuting you, should be laying up for themselves
stores of future misery in order to contribute to your
bliss?" "We have nothing to do with that," he replied;
"in the race for eternal life, it is every one's business to
save his own soul, without any regard to what happens
to others. All the rest we leave to God ; that is His
business; our business is to flee from the wrath to
come."
We have got so far away now-a-days from histor-
ical Christianity that this bold statement of the conse-
quences of that system almost shocks us, and yet it is
what the large majority even of Protestant Christians
practically believe. I say, therefore, that the Christian
view of life is selfish ; the Christian view of what con-
stitutes morality utterly degrading. Blamelessness,
freedom from vice is good, admirable, most desirable;
but, even when it is attained, it is but the zero-point
of virtue; there is nothing positive in it. There is no
virtue in poverty ; on the contrary, there is great virtue
in honest wealth, properly used. There is no virtue in
chastity, in the monastic sense. On the contrary, there
is great virtue in true wedlock — the complete union of
two complementary human beings for the noblest ends.
There is no virtue in obedience, in the sacrifice of free-
dom; on the contrary, all virtue depends upon the pos-
session and use of freedom. That is the very meaning
of virtue.
As I was crossing the Appennines to the south of
Perugia, a few years ago, an Italian gentleman, who
was sitting next to me in the train said, pointing to a
yellow building high up on the mountain-side: "That
is a most interesting building." "Why?" said I. "It
was there," he replied, " that a man of genius discovered
the way whereby for ages millions of men have been
able to live without doing any work." "That," said I,
"is certainly a most remarkable discovery — when I
come to think of it, the most remarkable ever made.
But who was this wonderful economical genius, so
much needed in our time?" "Saint Francis of Assise,"
he said," and that is the house to which he retired after
leaving the world, and before he appeared as the
founder of the order named after him. The Fraciscans
L>8
THE OPEN COURT.
you know are the begging monks." I did know, and I
knew, too, that when some one begs, some one must
give, and give something that has been earned by some
one's toil. I know that to beg, instead of laboring, is to
live upon others' toil. So, after all, I had no very high
respect for the memory of St. Francis, notwithstanding
his feverish piety rewarded with hallucinations and the
stigmata of the crucifixion.
THE MYSTERY OF PAIN IN A NEW LIGHT.
BY XENOS CLARK.
I wish to point out the important consequences of a
novel fact which has been suggested to me by Mr.
John Burroughs' essay in No. 5 of The Open Court.
Mr. Burroughs' theme is " Reason and Predisposi-
tion," and he goes so keenly and instantly to the root of
things that one cannot help wishing he may often give
his thoughts to the public of this journal. Impassioned
and firmly convinced thinkers will most need and will
least appropriate the lesson of Mr. Burroughs' essay,
but no one can claim exemption from the subtle error
which he exposes — an error which we are fonder of at-
tributing to our opponents than to ourselves, but which
in reality underlies all intellectual life. The error, as he
says, is this, that most men in the formation of their
opinions are governed more by predisposition, or un-
conscious bent and tendency, than by reason; and that
reason is merely the faculty by which we seek to justify
the course of this deeper seated determining force or
bent; so that with most men reason is an advocate and
not a judge, and does not so much try the case as plead
the case.
If it be true that our instincts and predispositions are
clients in whose behalf reason not so much tries as pleads
cases, then it is well to know the character of these
clients. It may prove on examination that if constitu-
tional bias rules reasoning, then so much the better for
reason; or it may prove the contrary; but in any case
nothing can lie worse than an unestimated force in our
mental conclusions.
The most obvious instance of constitutional bias is
the common inclination to think a noble and inspiring
theory true because it is noble and inspiring; and in the
case of men deeply gifted with feeling anil imagination,
like the poets, this bias becomes so vastly overpowering
as to place a reader who has the gift of intellectual sin-
cerity in a painful quandary. For the reader who has
the gift of intellectual sincerity, being deeply suscepti-
ble to poetic influence, yearns to follow the poets of his
time in their lofty conclusions, and yet he sees clearly
their constitutional bias; he sees that the poet's conclu-
sions are true only for a world of .poets. On the other
side there is the bias of the hard-headed thinkers, who,
having not much emotion themselves, do not see the po-
tent part that emotion plays in the world. It never
occurs to them, for instance, that what really establishes
the faith of true believers in God is not reason, but holi-
ness of heart. They resemble people with no sense of
smell who think devotion to perfumes a subject for argu-
ment rather than a matter of feeling.
Now the great strength of constitutional bias, or to call
it broadly, of instinct, lies in its hereditary nature. When
instinct speaks it is with the voice of the long line of
ancestors through which, with accumulating intensity, it
has descended to its present inheritor. We love life — it
is not we but the entire ancestral line that loves; the set-
ting sun entrances our vision — but we look with the eyes
of innumerable forefathers. The notable fact about all
these instincts built up by heredity is that they are life
conserving, they cling blindly and passionately to life.
This trait, so serviceable in practical matters, proves an
impediment when we come to the great open question
of the nature and value of life itself; for here instinct
with its blind love of life, manifested in a thousand deli-
cate and unsuspected ways, obviously tends to bend the
philosopher's conclusions all in one way.
But may it not after all be safer to trust instinct than
reason, and does not the origin of instinct in the experi-
ence of numberless ancestors give it sanction to speak
with authority on the problems of human destiny?
My special purpose is to answer this question, and
to show that there is one life problem at least on which
the voice of instinct must of necessity be false. This is
the problem of human suffering — "the mystery of pain."
It must first be noted that the nature of men's in-
stincts depends on the character and fortune of their an-
cestors. The ancestral line is the mould, instinct is the
cast. Now there is one character pertaining to all ances-
tors whatever, and which must therefore leave its mark
upon all instinct; it is the character of parentage.
Every ancestor shall possess at least that degree of well-
being which enables a person to marry and rear chil-
dren. Even more, he shall, if a remote ancestor, possess
not only sufficient well-being to rear children, but to
rear children who in their turn can rear children and so
on. The entire ancestral line of every living man is of
this character. Every such man comes of a race nurtured
in well-being, and his instincts represent only the ex-
perience of such a race. Here we discover a limit to
the validity of our instincts; they are valid only for a
world of well-being, just as a poet's conclusions are true
only for a world of poets.
But there is also a world of ill-being, as one need
not look long to discover. A fraction of every genera-
tion die childless; they are the utterly crippled, the bed-
ridden for life, the insane, the victims of crushing acci-
dents, and all upon whom the deeper curse of life falls
so heavily as to prohibit every thought of marriage.
And it is evident now that this world of ill-being leaves
absolutely no direct impress on the inherited instincts of
THK OPKN COURT.
429
the race; for without children there is no heredity, and
without heredity there is no transmission of instinct.
Here, then, is the respect in which the voice of in-
stinct is false when it is questioned upon the problem of
human suffering. While instinct belongs wholly to the
world of well-being, the problem of human suffering
pertains solely to the world of ill-being, and so the two
stand entirely apart.
The current explanations of suffering are well
known. The problem of course relates to the darker
suffering which crushes men's lives instead of elevating
them, and it is customary to say of this evil that it is
the curse which God put upon Adam; or that it is a
mysterv which will be explained in another life; or that
it is intended to humble the pride of knowledge; or to
test faith; or that good could not exist without evil; or,
finally, that some lives are blighted from birth in order
that others may have an opportunitv to pity and help
this extremity of distress.
Such explanations are common in the books called
theodicies, in philosophical svstems, anil under one sub-
tle form and another, in all the inspired literature of the
time. Not one of them can survive a moment in an in-
tellect which insists on sincerity and clearness at any
cost. Such explanations are too obviously an instance
where reason does not so ?mtch try the case as plead the
case. We cannot go happily about our lives, nor can
we retain our inspiring views of human destiny while
this night-mare of cruel suffering in part of the race
hangs over us; and so we must devise an anodyne in the
shape of an "explanation." The instinctive love of
life furnishes the motive, and reason simply fulfills what
is required of it by instinct.
For men pursuing ordinary avocations, it is well to
remain blind to the darker side of life, as they could not
live and work otherwise; but in the intellectual life, the
very highest purpose is clearness of vision. And it is a
painful and admonishing thought, when in the intellec-
tual life we strive to estimate fairly the lot of the suffer-
ers of each generation who pass away and leave no
sign, that our strongest instincts are warring against a
just conclusion, and, do what we will, must impercepti-
bly bias us.
It may be said in comment on the above reflections,
that one can easily find people who suffer ill and yet
who seem to rear children, even in excess. This is true;
but, as a rule, ill in the lives of such people does not
exist as an overpowering trait, but comes in that mixt-
ure with happiness which makes life at least tolerable.
When ill becomes a sole trait of life, then parentage
vanishes. It may be said also that sympathy and pity
are instincts which look kindly on suffering. It is in-
deed so, but only in a subordinate degree ; sympathy
and pity are derived not from suffering in our ancestors,
but from their sight of suffering in others. It still
remains true that the most heavily stricken of past gen-
erations have no direct representation in the powerful
court of present instinct.
For the purposes of a somewhat artificial illustration,
then, we may liken life to a perpetual lottery which has
a drawing once in every generation. The prize-holders
naturally look upon this lottery with favor, and transmit
this view to their descendants, who pass it on to theirs,
until it becomes a class instinct. But the blank-holders,
who hardly can share this opinion, have no vote in the
continuance of the lottery, since by their crippled posi-
tion in life their voice, if they can uplift it at all, has no
weight. Nor can the lesson of their hard experience be
transmitted as an instinct to descendants, because there
usually are no descendants. If this were not so, if the
hard experience could be transmitted to descendants,
then there would arise an adverse class instinct of the
blank-holders to offset the class instinct of the prize-
holders. But this being impossible, the only class in-
stinct in the field is that of the priz;-holders, who have
the vote all their own way, and they naturally decide
in favor of the lottery. It is their bread, their happi-
ness, their inspiration, as it was their fathers'. They
look with pity on the blank-holders; they will even share
bread with them ; but the lottery cannot be invalidated
on their account; it is too exciting, too inspiring — it is
art, science, religion, the whole domain of man's won-
derful life, or, let us be careful to say, of the prize-hold-
er's wonderful life. Still, the fate of the blank-holder
is a gnat in the prize-holder's eye, and he has spent
much time trying to explain it away in books on the
" mystery of pain," the "problem of evil," and the like.
The attempt is considered laudable, especially among
philosophers; but if one of the blank-holders, himself a
philosopher perchance, attempts to raise his voice against
the injustice of the lottery, and to protest against having
his hard fate explained away factitiously, that is consid-
ered very reprehensible, and he is very likely to be
called hard names.
MONISTIC MENTAL SCIENCE.
BY S. V. CLEVENGER, M. D.
THE CHEMISTRr OF PRIMITIVE LIFE AND .VI.VD.
When the dogmatism of the legendary cosmogenies
is so evident, fault should not be found with a sketch of
the earth's history as revealed by the theory of evolu-
tion, because it contains much that cannot be demon-
strated, and conjecture (based upon reasoning) fills in
the gaps. Then let Lockyer's primordial gas, which
originated we don't know how, have given rise to the
heavier hydrogen, and different degrees of compression
of hydrogen constitute the other elements. Laplace's
nebular hypothesis follows and show how the earth
solidified its crust, after having existed eons as a gaseous
cloud.
Next in order the theory of spontaneous generation
43°
THE OPEN COURT.
(a mere guess, but one that is defensible) accounts for
the protista (the plant-animal forms), and the monera,
that preceded them. By easy grades we ascend from
lower to higher plants, from protophytes through sea
weeds, mosses, ferns, to flowering plants; and from lower
animals, the protozoa, through worms, star fishes, shell
fish, to vertebrates and man.
If we could get out of ourselves and regard every-
thing objectively, unbiased by our feelings and the famil-
iarity that blinds and deludes, we would be able to
conceive this planet reduced to the size of a hickory nut,
upon whose surface a magnifying apparatus would
reveal lesser specs changing places, forms and colors.
Further magnification would show us man looking like
a period, growing to the stature of an exclamation point
(probably a theist), or an interrogation point (probably
a scientist). From these spring other dots, and the larger
ones dissolve. All move about, some collide, others
cling together, still others avoid one another. These
simple movements, further inspection tells us, are caused
by position changes effected by the more minute particles
that compose these small objects.
Allowing the world with its flora and fauna to
regain its natural size and placing a man under our pow-
erful microscope until he appears to be as large as the
earth, we learn that all the grosser movements he has made
were occasioned by the collision, clinging together, move-
ments of avoidance and other place changes on the part
of little spheres like bird shot and cricket balls, known
as atoms and molecules. A very close and constant
arrangement of these elementary balls constitute his
bones, which are pulled to and fro by the sidewise and
lengthwise rush of similar balls not so compactly
arranged, which form the muscles. Great nerve cables
of millet-seed like grains, here and there rapidly crowd
one another, in turn producing commotion among the
muscle components. But it is difficult to discern which
is cause or effect in all this swirl. The big balls strike
the little ones and start them agog, the little ones retaliate,
to be in turn hit at by the larger. In fact cause and
effect exchange places, and everything this bag of millet-
seed, bird shot and cricket balls does depends upon the
preponderence of one kind of molecules over the others,
and an endless series of accidents.
Here, for example, was an oxygen atom jerking
away from less congenial company to seize upon two
hydrogen atoms, the three balls then becoming known
as a molecule of water, countless groups of which could
be seen everywhere in our giant. Many of these H20
groups were very exclusively associating only with their
own kind and repelling the advances of other molecules
which sought their company ; but here and there one of
the objectionable molecules happened to meet with some
atoms it wanted and could capture and, presto, meta-
morphosis. The formerly repulsive A, which B avoided,
picked up an X and no time was lost before ABX
became a new molecular candidate for the envy, syco-
phancy and wiles of others. This X was often a metallic
atom.
Restoring our man to his less than six feet of height,
his molecular make up disappeared and we find that
accidents of atomic grouping make this particular per-
son present an ugly appearance. His comrades with
more pleasing visages are not attracted to him ; women
deride and repel him. Chance fills his pockets with the
element auritm, and a change occurs comparable to the
one noted before. His acquisition enables him to select
whom he pleases as associates. One known as Fool
and another called Knave became gilded and secured
the sisters Cupidity, who, though detesting their mates
helped them to multiply their kind. These comparisons
are not strained. There is more than simile or metaphor
in them. If a house be built of bricks does not the pile
of bricks preserve the individual brick nature? Because
it is a house it is none the less a brick pile, with all the
properties, such as hardness, porosity, uninflamability,
contained in each separate brick. Grouping of atoms
into molecules and these into compound molecules do
not make such combinations any the less chemical, even
though man is the thing built from the molecules.
We may start with the simple one-celled animal
called the amoeba. It is a representative of the modi-
fied cell that is found to produce, by multiplication of
itself, all animal tissues. The muscles, membranes,
skin, etc., of man are made up of cell upon cell of proto-
plasmic origin, closely allied to this unicellular organism,
and the white blood corpuscles are called amoeboid be-
cause they resemble the amceba: surprisingly in all
things.
This amceba may be found, under the microscope, in
stagnant water, damp earth, or in animal matter, creep-
ing about with activity, but no constancy of direction.
It seems to be a living spec of white of egg;, the mi-
nute granules in it flowing first to one part, then another;
pushing out " false feet " into which the entire mass
flows, and so moves about. When it encounters food,
usually minute vegetable particles, the substance passes
into the animal composition, and what cannot be assimi-
lated is merely moved away from — excreted.
Insignificant as these amcebic motions appear, they
are weighted with the most important problems life can
present, for the quarrel is over what causes the amoeba
to move at all. Cope and others assign it consciousness,
or will power. Very well; but such assumption has
been an effectual bar to rational inquiry into mental
science. Without positively denying that this animal,
as well as lower and higher ones, may be conscious we
can ignore that consideration altogether, or claim that
consciousness and will are merely effects of the chemi-
cal and physical forces at work in and upon the animal.
THE OPEN COURT.
43 T
Low forms of life, like this, may be kept dried and ap-
parently dead, indefinitely, but moisture restores activity.
Of itself this fact shows the purely mechanical nature
of life.
The main composition of the protoplasm of the
amceba, is carbon, hydrogen, oxygen and nitrogen, rep-
resented by the symbols C, H, O, N. It feeds upon
plants which contain similar elements. In fact it eats
that to which it is chemically attracted. Its hunger,
then, is chemical affinity. Assimilation, eating, is a
process of molecular exchange, chemical saturation.
Hydrogen hungers for oxygen. The amoebic proto-
plasm molecules CHON hunger for CHON.*
We have gained our first step in mental science. A
feeling, a desire, is reduced to a chemical explanation.
Remember it, for upon it every subsequent step depends:
/. Hunger is chemical affinity ', the desire inherent
in atoms for one another. Hunger is the first, the primi-
tive desire, so acknowledged by thinkers from other
poin's of view, but they did not see what we now claim
to be its origin. Growth of the mass must follow as
the molecules add to their number, size and weight, by
chemical combinations; by eating. This is evident and
axiomatic, but simple as it appears, like a geometrical
axiom it is liable to be obscured or lost sight of as we
advance.
Growth, thus, is our second step gained:
2. Grozcfh arises from chemical saturation, from
hunger satisfaction, from eating. This is more evident
than i, in all animal life.
Next the amceba reproduces itself by the simplest
possible means, it divides as a consequence of over-
growth, and we then have two amoebae; the new addi-
tional form is excreted off from the old one, and observ-
ing that such particles as silica or lime carbonate, which
it cannot take up are repelled, rejected, excreted, we
find as a consequence that excretion depends upon, or is:
a, chemical indifference or repulsion,
l>, a consequence of assimilation,
c, an overgrowth consequence, in reproduction.
J. Excretion is a consequence of hzinger satis-
faction.
4. Reproduction is a consequence of growth, and
a process of excretion.
The amceba absorbs oxygen and exhales carbonic
acid; it breathes. But oxygen is a food, and inhalation
* So much depends and could be said upon this inference, it can be but cur-
sorily dealt with here. The objection to the atomic affinity likeness of hunger
being in that protoplasm converts dead into living molecules, may be met by
Hoppe-Seyler's claim (Chemical- Physiology Institute Inaugural Address) that
living protoplasm consisted of anhydrous oxy-hvdro-carbon molecules capable
ot motion in a hydrated medium. When such molecules combined with the
water in which they moved, then the protoplasm was dead. Living protoplasm
is like quantities of CHON moving in water: H»0; now if CHON, in
certain quantities, becomes CHONH.O (while the symbolism is far from being
exact), an idea of what occurs when protoplasm dies (the machine stoppage)
may be gained. The next step toward dissolution being the breakin? up of the
compound altogether; the dismantling of the machine. But it is impossible to
go deeply into such matters in popular essays.
is but a process of assimilation, hence breathing is eating
and proposition 1 includes it. The rejected, exhaled
carbonic acid is excreted; so proposition 3 includes
that matter.
Prehension, or taking hold of its food is another
function, but it is only an effect of 1 ; attraction of mole-
cules. The ama'ba moves about, but the same molecu-
lar attractions account for such movements partly; light
sets up a series of attractive motions in it; heat increases
within certain limits its activity; eddies move it, and the
simplest explanation of light and heat attraction would
be through their expanding the nearest portion acted
upon, setting up a flow of granules into that part, re-
sulting in a forward movement toward the light. The
composition of forces would account even for its occa-
sionally moving away from its food, thus:
Fig. 1.
Let A represent the position of the amceba at one
instant; the line A C the direction, and force, 10, of at-
traction of a ray of heat and light. The line A B, with
the attraction =5 of a diatom, or some other molecular
combination which is food and has attractive affinity for
the amceba. The parallelogram of forces will decide D
to be the direction in which A will move; apparently
away from its food.
These motions can be made more complex by the
inconstancy of the environment, heat, light, electricity,
sound, chemism, eddies, all exerting their influences and
confusing the directness of motion.
Lastly —
5. Locomotion is due to hunger [chemical affinity)
and to other physical forces. We thus have all the life
activities of this low animal explained as the result of
force and matter. Objectively regarded we have satis-
fied the conditions, but fault may be found with having
brought in the subjective term hunger. This can be
disposed of by admitting that we can only judge of
hunger objectively in others, whether man, dog, or
amceba, by what it causes them to do, and comparing
such actions with our own under like circumstances,
which subjectively we realize to be due to hunger.
Perhaps a feeble consciousness is a prod2ict of these
molecular and mass motions — who can say? We have
much of the aboriginal disposition to concede will
power or sensibility to any complex mechanical motions.
The Zuni Indians worshiped the great Corliss engine
at the Chicago water-works, and wanted to cast them-
selves into its wheels as into the arms of a good spirit;
432 THE OPEN COURT.
similarly the remark is often made by the intelligent and motions have regard to satisfying hunger, and its mushy
educated: "That locomotive acts as though it lived," or body is constructed to take hold of things. Prehension
"That machine almost talks." If we knew the amoeba or taking hold of things is an ability merely developed,
to be composed of crystalline matter we would merely but not changed in the higher animal life, for arms,
wonder at its mechanical motions; because it is flesh- hands and jaws are for food prehension; the legs and
like we assign it life, though we know that flesh and feet take hold of the ground in the food search; ribs as-
crystals are but chemical elements differently combined. sist other organs in oxygen (food) prehension. The
President Sorbv, of the Royal Microscopical So- fundamental life processes having merely more elaborate
ciety, estimates that in one one-thousandth of an inch organs in the higher than in the lower forms, to con-
sphere of albumen (protoplasm), there are 530,000,- serve the same necessary ends. While in this protozoon
000,000 molecules. With protozoa one-tenth, or one the only sensation it has refers to eating, all other sensa-
one-hundredth of an inch in size, there would be pro- tions are differentiated from it, and if you reflect a little,
portionately more. It becomes possible to conceive how you will know that all thought is ultimately traceable
organisms even a hundred-thousandth of an inch can to that homely act. Stop eating for a while and be con-
molecularly exist. So the difference between the flea vinced.
and the elephant, mentally as well as physically, need You get from this your first philosophical conception
not be other than a merely quantitative one, for qualita- of pain and pleasure. An unsatisfied tension of the
tive development may go on with the lesser number of amoebic molecules in the one and the act of gratification
molecules. Thus we surmount the idea that mere size in the other. Indifference comes with plethora, which
of brain or body has anything to do with relative intel- causes quiesence or cessation of maximum motion — an
lectuality considered as a molecular property. important fact, for satiety is akin to death. The filled
Diagrams sometimes more forcibly illustrate what is up amoeba does not move. Activity increases in all ani-
meant: mal life, within certain limits, with hunger or other de-
The albuminoid, protoplasmic, one-celled animal, the sire. Satisfaction palls, cloys,
amoeba (Fig. 2) may be roughly represented as a pile of Volumes could be written to justify these views, but
chemical atoms, each dot representing a molecule of we are only glancing at matters.
such atoms : Fancy the molecules that compose protoplasm to be
grouped in little piles like Fig. 6, and when attracted to
Fig. j. Fig. 3.
Attracted toward a piece of alga (Fig. 3), which
passes into the amoeba and causes it to grow (Fig 4). It
rejects the uneatable part and becoming too large, splits
— reproduces (Fig. 5).
Fig- 4- Fig. 5.
Under the designation chemism we have disposed of
moving, breathing, eating; from which as a conse-
quence proceeded growth, reproduction and excretion.
We called the chemical attraction involved in eating,
hunger, a desire, a feeling, a sensation. Do not let us
get confused at this or any other stage, by mixing up
terms, or making distinctions where none exist; desires
and feelings are sensations from first to last, and we
shall so see them to be. Then sensation is nothing but
molecular motion. When the little molecules are mov-
ing about, from whatever cause, sensation is evoked.
It is not sensation that moves them, but the movements
produce the sensation; which is a mere incident of the
motion as friction heat is to machinery motion. All its
Fig. 6. Fig. 7.
other similar molecules their commotion would appear
something like Fig. 7. If this motion invariably took
place under similar influences, then the more these influ-
ences occurred the better adjustment would there be to
a repetition of them — adaptation, and the motion-sensa-
tion would become instinctive, automatically induced.
Now if food attraction caused this motion once, it is ap-
parent that it can do so again. The repetition of this
motion would lie one phase of memory. If this molec-
ular disturbance were induced by some other cause than
chemical attraction, such as a chance movement of the
particles in the amoeba, then we have- other phases of
memory, anticipation, recollection and feelings, such as
dreams are made of, imperfect, mixed. The Chladni
figures may be cited :
feisr 'A •■• s
Fig. 8.
m
THE OPEN COURT.
433
Such and many other forms appear when a glass
plate upon which sand is strewn is thrown into vibra-
tions by musical notes. Each figure is definite for its
producing note and will be reproduced by that note.
Sensation may be likened to the vibration of a piano
string produced in its usual wav through the kev and
hammer stroke. Memory is the reproduction of the
same vibrations, whether induced in the usual or some
other way.
Summing up what we have deduced from the pro-
toplasmic motions, we have, life processes, such as eat-
ing, growth, excretion, reproduction and general loco-
motory movements accounted for as interacting physical
force and matter, with incident and consequent produc-
tion of pain and pleasure, sensation and memory.
Minds unused to evolutionary conceptions will ask
what all this has to do with man and his mentality.
Refer to modern text books on physiology, embryology
and histology (microscopic anatomy), botanical and
zoological works, and you will discover statements
clearly made or implied throughout, to the effect that
man is but a colony of amreba-like cells, grouped and
differentiated to effect better the same functions inherent
in the original amoeba cell. While all the processes are
carried on by one dot of protoplasm in the case of the one-
celled animal, the many-celled animal, such as man, has
certain groups of cells highly developed in one direc-
tion, others in another; with the necessarv diminution
of other abilities in the specially developed instances,
just as the good blacksmith may not be a good clerk,
but specialism has developed both as advantageous to
society. The clerk and blacksmith are not the less men
because specialized, the brain and muscle cells are none
the less cells. The association of these functions with
their sensations, through an internuncial nervous system
may be likened to the metropolitan and continental link-
ing of interests by telegraphs. In effect this will appear
as we proceed, to be more than analogy; it is homology
or identity.
The monistic philosophy shows that society acts as
the man acts, and his nature is that of his cells; these in
turn are governed by molecular attributes, but that man
can react upon his composition and give direction to his
acts bj' conforming better to nature's laws, through
knowing those laws; and achieve thereby the maximum
allotment of happiness for himself and others.
FREE THOUGHTS.
BY FELIX L. OSWALD, M. D.
Public calamities are generally followed by revivals
of hyperphysical religion. But does that prove the
merit of other- worldliness? Hard times are equally
apt to revive the alcohol-vice. In default of better
consolations the children of sorrow are prone to have
recourse to spiritual and spirituous narcotics.
With all its hierarchic polemics the Old Testament
holds to the terra tirma of secularism and optimism and
has helped to counteract the anti-physical dogmas of its
appendix. Hence the Hebraic tendencies of the manlier
nations of Christendom. The North British Puritans
were Hebrews of the Maccabee type, Jews in kilts and
cuirass, flaunting the banner of the cross but preferring
to ignore the duty of passive submission to tyranny.
Their very cant, their watchword and nomenclature
were borrowed fiom the camp of Gideon, rather than
from Golgatha. South of the Alps, on the other hand,
the gnostic-anti-natural element preponderates. Saint-
worship, emasculated ethics, Buddhist monachism and
Buddhist indolence. Xorth and South America pre-
sent a similar contrast. Our very Sunday-schools
prefer Old Testamentarian "lessons of the day."
The tendencies of city -life, in some of its phases,
may, however, rival the influence of an enervating
climate, and in the crowded vice-centers of the colder
latitudes there is no lack of Protestant Jesuits, anti-nat-
uralists of that specially repulsive type combining a
joy-hating intolerance with pedantry and cold-blooded
selfishness. Their hatred of optimism feels its impotence
in the swift currents of modern civilization and avenges
itself by slander and occasional Jew-baits.
Modern ocean steamers are built on the "safety-
cabin," or water-tight compartment plan. A storm- wave
may crush the fore-castle and the buoyancy of the
remaining sections will still float the ship. Modern
clergymen, it seems, are trying to construct a sea-worthy
creed on a similar plan. Their patent gospel-ships
comprise two or three wholly distinct safety-cabins; a
temperance compartment, an anti- Mormon compart-
ment, an entertaining literature and picnic section. If
the storm-waves of public opinion should smash the fore-
castle with its haloed figure-head, they hope to float by
virtue of an intact stern-hold, stuffed with light litera-
ture and emptied beer barrels.
The church of Rome disdains such precautions. The
loss of her untenable provinces has proved a good
riddance and simplified the administration of her crown
lands. Her borders are swarming with smugglers,
peddling no end of drugs and patent nostrums, but the
frontier-guards can afford to connive. They know that
Buddhism is an incurable disease.
This metamorphic century of ours resembles the
era of Juvenal in too many respects to mistake the sig-
nificance of the analogy. The temples of the prevail-
ing creed still multiply, but their masonry lacks the
cement of faith; their walls tower, but the omens of
impending collapse appear in ever-widening splits and
gaps. Moralists seek a new basis of ethics; philoso-
phy goes hand in hand with skepticism; faith raves at
the glimpses of sunlight, peering through the withered
tree-tops of the sacred grove, and calls upon the doubted
434
THE OPEN COURT.
deities to testify in their own behalf. But the Gods are
silent. Is their glory fading- in the glare of a brighter
light, or are they yielding their throne to a new
dynasty ? No philosopher of the Caesarean era sus-
pected the significance of the portents that ushered in
the eve of a dismal night, and who shall read the signs
of our own times? The fitful signs of a coming change
that may bring a new sunrise, or a fading of the stars in
a spreading night-mist? Where is our guarantee
against a relapse of obscurantism? Religious freedom?
Rome had plenty of that freedom, and the gates that
admitted Grecian philosophers admitted also Buddhist
fanatics and Syrian monks. And the trouble is that the
energy of such fanatics is very apt to prevail against
all other energies whatever. Science? The Protestant
revolt has favored her revival; but science is a tool that
lends itself to all purposes. The science that rears the
dome of an observatory also reared the dome of St.
Peter and the stronghold of the inquisition, and will
flash its electric lights in the council-house of the prop-
aganda as brightly as in a lecture hall.
But, for better or worse, a change is near at hand.
The doom of the old creed will only be hastened by the
tactics of its modern defenders. The mystagogues of the
Eleusinian festivals lost their last chance of prestige when
they attempted to recruit the host of their votaries by
an alliance with buffoons and mountebanks, and our
revival- mongers, too, may find that the costs of their
popularity wdl prove a ruinous investment. The forlorn
hope of the latter-day crusades will not survive the fate
of their allies; the church that resisted the hosts of Islam
will succumb to the aid of the Salvation Army. Wit-
ness the following circular recently issued by an " adju-
tant" of that army in the State of Kansas: "Smiling
Belle, from Wichita, the girl who jumped out of a two-
story window to get salvation, will be at 's Rink,
to-night, at S P. M. Cyclones of salvation! Tornadoes
of power! Gales of grace! Celestial hurricanes! Col-
lection at the door to defray expenses." Oh, yes. The
moral expenses, however, might exceed the estimate.
The Moslem fanatics recovered their reason in t..e
cooler latitudes of Europe, and the Spanish Caliphate
became a nursery of industry and science. Is it not pos-
sible that the temperate zones of our own continent will
do as much for their Spanish conquerors? Chili is gain-
ing prestige on the vantage-ground of political inde-
pendence and may at any time raise the standard of
religious emancipation. Buenos Ay res, too, is fast
becoming untenable for the ultramontanes. Pessimism
will not flourish in a healthy soil. The priest-ridden
burghers of old Spain would, indeed, hardly recognize
their relatives in the broad-shouldered rancheros of the
pampas, who have faced tornadoes and rampant steers
and decline to quail before a Papal bull.
Indoor life, on the other hand, will not fail to tell
upon the descendants of Cromwell's Ironsides, and its
continued influence may yet strangely displace the bal-
ance of power in northern Europe. In the days of
Robin Hood a British yeoman was probably a match
for a dozen mujiks ; but for the last eighty years the
children of that yeoman have been stunted in slums and
spinning mills, while the sons of the Russian boor have
steeled their sinews in the uplands of the Caucasus and
the steppes of Iran and Turkestan, and Despotism,
to be sure, handicaps the prowess of its defenders, but
there is also a Nemesis of wealth, and history has repeat-
edly proved that the civilization of valient barbarians is
child's play compared with the regeneration of wornout
epicureans. Within a century after the battle of Xeres
dela Frontera the Moorish swashbuckler had classic
highschools, while a millennium of appeals to honor
and patriotism has failed to revive the heroic age of
Rome.
Is the marasmus of wornout nations a wholly incur-
able disease? Incurable in some of its phases, says Ex-
perience, — at least by all remedies thus far discovered.
Nations may recover from the incubus of the most crush-
ing oppression; witness Hungaria, Israel and the Prot-
estant Netherlands, just as Time will repair the ravages
of a forest-fire or a tree-breaking tornado; the roots of
the blighted woodlands retain their vitality and respond
to the stimulus of the first reviving shower. But spring
and summer return in vain if the soil itself has lost its
reproductive power, and Time has no cure for the spell
of Shiva, the god of the listless desert.
The star of empire, after keeping its westward
course for a century or two, has sometimes reappeared
in the East, as in 622, when the crescent rose to eclipse
the light of Mars, or in 1S70, when the comet of the
second empire was wrecked against the solid orbs of a
northeastern constellation. Greece, Rome, Araby,
Spain, England, France, Prussia — the eagles and the
lions have had their day; will it be the bear's turn next?
Or the Danubian wolf's? Magyar enterprise is making
itself felt in literature and art as well as in politics, and
there is a tradition that the Castle of Buda will yet be-
come the capitol of a great empire. Within our States — ■
united or disunited, the star of supremacy will pursue a
similar zigzag course, though with the same westward
trend which seems to presage a long pause on the shores
of the Pacific.
Mr. Edwin D. Mead will lecture as usual durirgthe
coming season, giving courses or single lectures, chiefly
upon literary and historical subjects — "Puritanism;"
" The Pilgrim Fathers;" " The American Poets;" " The
British Parliament;" "Gladstone;" "Samuel Adams;"
"Carlyle and Emerson;" " Dante;" " Immanuel Kant;"
"Lessing's 'Nathan the Wise,' or the Gospel of Tolera-
tion," etc. Mr. Mead's address is 73 Pinckney street,
Boston.
THE OPEN COURT.
435
The Open Court.
A. Fortnightly Journal.
Published every other Thursday at 169 to 175 La Salle Street iNixor
Building), corner Monroe Street, by
THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY
B. F. UNDERWOOD,
Editor and Manager.
SARA A. UNDERWOOD,
Associate Editor.
The leading object of The Open Court is to continue
the work of The Index, that is, to establish religion on the
basis of Science and in connection therewith it will present the
Monistic philosophy. The founder of this journal believes this
will furnish to others what it has to him, a religion which
embraces all that is true and good in the religion that was taught
in childhood to them and him.
Editorially, Monism and Agnosticism, so variously denned,
will be treated not as antagonistic systems, but as positive and
negative aspects of the one and only rational scientific philosophy,
which, the editors hold, includes elements of truth common to
all religions, without implying either the validity of theological
assumption, or any limitations of possible knowledge, except such
as the conditions of human thought impose.
The Open Court, while advocating morals and rational
religious thought on the firm basis of Science, will aim to substi-
tute for unquestioning credulity intelligent inquiry, for blind faith
rational religious views, for unreasoning bigotry a liberal spirit,
tor sectarianism a broad and generous humanitarianism. With
this end in view, this journal will submit all opinion to the crucial
test of reason, encouraging the independent discussion by able
thinkers of the great moral, religious, social and philosophical
problems which are engaging the attention of thoughtful minds
and upon the solution of which depend largely the highest inter-
ests of mankind
While Contributors are expected to express freely their own
views, the Editors are responsible only for editorial matter.
Terms of subscription three dollars per year in advance,
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fifty cents to foreign countries comprised in the postal union.
All communications intended for and all business letters
relating to The Open Court should be addressed to B. E.
Underwood, Treasurer, P. O. Drawer F, Chicago, 111., to whom
should be made payable checks, postal orders and express orders.
THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 15, 1SS7.
THE OLD AND NEW PHRENOLOGY.
A friend takes exception to our " low estimate of
phrenology," as indicated by a paragraph printed in the
last number of this journal. He thinks that it is entitled
to be regarded as a "true and useful science," although
he makes no attempt to prove his position. Our remark
referred of course, to the old phrenology, or bumpology,
as taught in the lectures and writings of the late Prof.
O. S. Fowler and others of his class who profess to
describe character — each particular intellectual and moral
quality — by the elevations and depressions of the skull.
We are not aware that there is to-day any man of
science who holds to this absurd theory.
As the pseudo-sciences alchemy and astrology gave
rise to chemistry and astronomy so phrenology has been
succeeded by craniology and cerebrology. Races are
now known to have hend shapes peculiar to themselves;
but only in a general way does the skull conformation
indicate mentality. Oliver Wendell Holmes says:
"You can tell by bumps what is in a man's head
as readily as what is in a safe by feeling its door knob."
Most of the phrenological deductions are illogical and
many are controverted by facts. For instance " vita-
tiveness," or the desire to live, is located by phrenology
over the mastoid process, behind the ear; a huge bump
of bone into which a lancet is often deeply thrust by
surgeons without fear of touching the brain. The " per-
ceptives" — form, si/e, color, weight appreciation, are
placed along the eyebrow ridge, though the brain is
very remote from that part, and primitive races or even
apes have the largest development of that arch.
Gall observed that the best scholars had protuberant
eyes, so he located " language " behind the optic, an
absurd proceeding, for the widely opened eye is an
expression of wonder, the exercise of which faculty has
led to erudition in general. In Gall's time linguistics
were the height of knowledge, hence his conclusions.
Constructiveness and combativeness belong to a high
grade of intellect, and while we can deny that they have
the exact locations assigned by phrenologists it is not
remarkable that the increased brain size that accompa-
nies brain exercise should widen the head in the region
assigned to these bumps. Reasoning power and perti-
nacity could more properly be thus placed, but as the
frontal brain develops and broadens the forehead the
skull does not always keep pace with this growth, so
that one with a narrow or even low forehead may have
a large brain compressed into narrower compass. Per
contra, the disease called hydrocephalus may give the
idiot the " front of Jove." There is a tendency of the
cranium to adapt itself to brain growth, but the rigid
bones require centuries to establish radical changes; the
softer tissues beneath folding up in lines of least resist-
ance. It can be readily seen from this how head shape
could be a race characteristic, but give no clue to indi-
vidual traits, save in the crudest ways.
Says Prof. Gunning (in Life History of our Planet,
p. 289): " In the Museum of the Smithsonian Institu-
tion may be seen a cranium of enormous size and
most perfect symmetry. Such a noble forehead! and
balanced against this such a perfect backhead ! All the
lines and curves so strong, so graceful !
' A combination and a form indeed,
Where every god did set his seal
To give the world assurance of a man.'
"The owner of the head was a miserable Indian
who never got from it so much as a beaver trap!"
The new phrenology is deduced from the study of
the brain itself and brings into that study mathematics,
physics, chemistry and other sciences where the old
phrenology was isolated in this respect, often defiant of
exact knowledge. O. S. Fowler used to say to his audi-
ences " Newton's Principia is all bosh. It is not gravi-
tation that holds the planets in space, / have discovered
that it is electricity." The new phrenology is cultivated
4.V-
THE OPEN COURT.
as a branch of anthropology by learned, modest men who
never give " character charts."
Professor O. F. Lumry, formerly of Wheaton Col-
lege, has withdrawn from the Congregationalists, and in
an elaborate paper, which abounds with Scriptural quo-
tations and expressions of Christian piety and zeal,
argues that all churches as now organized are " parts of
the great apostasy, and constitute together mystic Babv-
lon." Such words as " Many pastors have destroyed
My vineyard ; they have made My pleasant portion a
desolate wilderness," and " Woe be unto the pastors that
destroy and scatter the sheep of My pasture;" " Behold,
I am against the shepherds, and I will require My flock
at their hands and cause them to cease feeding the flock;
neither shall the shepherds feed themselves any more,
for I will deliver My flock from their mouth that they
may not be meat for them." — such words of reproof
and condemnation Professor Lumry thinks applicable
to the Christian clergy of to-day. We have space for
but a few passages from his extraordinary document :
With wiser provision for its own integrity and permanence
Catholicism educate* its brightest, most promising male children
for priests, and secures their loyalty to itself bv providing for
their support without common labor, whether for the time she
has church work for them to do or not. To do this she. under the
plea of greater sanctity, denies them marriage and the burden of
families, and hence the need of large salaries. Protestantism
trains the minds and develops expensive tastes in her upper
orders, and then turns them out to prey upon the churches. As
an inevitable result hers is the very genius of division and
sectism. * * * On the principle that where rogues fall out
honest men get their dues, Protestantism is more favorable to the
rights of the citizen, yet she has the distinguishing mark of the
great apostasy — an order or orders above the equal brotherhood.
If reforms of abuses are attempted, the chief positions in the move-
ment designed to further become the perquisites, usually, of min-
isters who have fallen out of rank among the active men of their
order, but who exhibit wonderful zeal in their unclerical calling,
at least while it affords them a fat living. * * * To constitute
a sacred order above the equal brotherhood it is only necessary
that there be one or more things that must be done which only
such order can do, as administering the rights of baptism and the
communion, or performing the marriage ceremony. Protestant-
ism, then, not only has its hierarchy, but that sacred body, while
not bound by secret oaths, after the manner of some communions,
is yet, to some extent, a secret society or order. As we have seen
from Paul's language, it was secret in its working, and it is
to-day measurably secret in its working, since, while its acts vitally
aftect the inferior order, its motives are never, perhaps, fully
explained to such order.
* * »
One of the few writers able to treat "lofty" themes
with sense and penetration is Philip Gilbert Hamerton.
There is an interesting passage in which he says: " Hu-
man life is so extremely various and complicated, while
it tends every day to still greater variety and complica-
tion, that all maxims of a general nature require a far
higher degree of intelligence in their application to indi-
vidual cases than it ever cost originally to invent them."
This, to our mind, indicates with exactness the weak-
ness of most sermon-writing. The usu.d sermon is
merely a "maxim of a general nature" long drawn out,
ami it treats virtue and vice and all the problems of
conduct as if there never could be any difficulty in mak-
ing " the application to individual cases." But this is
just where the difficulty does lie, often. A minister
urges a parent to observe J>is duties to his child, and this
is very well; but what troubles the parent is not so much
the question of duty in general, as the question how to
reconcile the duty of kindness with the duty of severity,
or possibly, a man is foolishlv incompetent with chil-
dren, and the wife's whole life becomes a painful strug-
gle to prevent his ruining them, without alienating his
affection by her interference. It is at best a compromise,
and only years of experience teach the best course; but
what special light will he get from any sermon?
Church morality knows nothing of compromises; the
complexities that make most the real difficulties of life
for ordinary, honest people it never recognizes. If a
devoted wife stands between two sins, the sin of conceal-
ing, in fact, lying about — her husband's guilt and the
sin of blighting his chance of a better life by exposure,
she will hardly find her difficultv solved in her Sunday
pew. The sort of wisdom common in sermons may
thus be said, with no unfairness, to resemble rather a
general praise of medicine than an offering of specific
remedies. Of course the latter task is much more diffi-
cult than the former.
7T * #
In Herbert Spencer's Retrospect and Prospect are
indices of better times ahead when the evolved social
organism and its individual components will have loftier
aims, ideas and methods. Take the important matter of
marriage incentive. Primitively the woman was a chat-
tel to be stolen or bought; nowadays there is a feeling
of reprobation of wife purchase or husband purchase,
and marriage without respect or affection on both sides
is degradation indeed. In this day it is simply returning
to savagery voluntarily with all the lowering of the
moral tone that implies. Novelists often make use of
the greed that sometimes — not always — attends senility,
and picture the magpie parent gloating over the daugh-
ter's "sparkling diamond ring" that is part of the sacri-
ficial junk. Romantically enough would read a story
of an accomplished young lady mating with a man she
detests, whose only attractive possession is alleged cash,
all fur the sake of a parent to whom she is de-
voted; but such things do occur, and until a little reflec-
tion is accorded the act, its immorality is less apparent.
The blind worship of wealth makes fools of the
envious. Spencer looks for the world to make a distinc-
tion in favor of the man who has made his fortune by
brain work, as in manufactures and other useful indus-
tries. The servility of the masses to wealth disgusts those
THE OPEN COURT.
437
who possess it, and much of the cynicism and heartless-
ness often found connected with it is due to their com-
mon experience that the respect monev compels is un-
stable, that the love it buys is spurious.
* * *
A Sabbath-school superintendent writing from Lex-
ington, Va., to a religious paper, in regard to the relig-
ious condition of colored men, considers " the appear-
ance of skepticism among them an indication of quick-
ened mental movement, although certainly in the wrong
direction." Among the instances lie gives is the fol-
lowing:
But now came a question unexpected as difficult: " Were the
days mentioned in Genesis like our day, twenty-four hours long,
or were they long periods of time?"
" Ah," said I to the questioner, " we have gotten into deep
water where neither I nor you can readily touch bottom. All I
have time here to say is, that many learned and good men, as
well as some others not so good, believe that the days of Moses
are to be taken for long, very long periods, and many as learned
and good insist that they are meant to be taken' just as the words
stand — for days of twenty-four hours in length." I was not
sorry when the striking of the clock just here indicated the hour
for closing the class, and so ended the discussion. * * * It is
plain to be seen that the same profound questions that have taxed
the powers of philosophers, scholars and divines, and which are
to-day still vexing the world, are presenting themselves to the
mind of the colored Bible-class. * * * The colored people
are using in a very indiscriminate way their newly acquired
ability to read. I feel sure that the young men to whom I have
referred, had gotten a glimpse of the crude skepticism indicated
by their questions from the newspapers, and other current writ-
ing of the day.
* * *
The contest between the liberal and clerical parties
in Mexico increases in intensity. The Monitor Repub-
lican charges the clergy with plots against republican
institutions and with having a well formed plan to de-
stroy religious liberty. An anti-clerical league has been
formed in the City of Mexico, and auxiliary leagues are
to be organized throughout the Republic. Recently in
Pueblo the bishop warned the people not to have even
the slightest social or business intercourse with Protest-
ants, and much feeling has been excited by this among
the liberals who are of Catholic faith. The religious
controversy is likely to enter into the next presidential
election. The clericals seem bound to oppose the devel-
opment of intercourse with the United States, as favored
by the Diaz administration, and the clerical organs all
over the country show marked hostility to the United
States and American institutions.
* * *
Dr. P. I. Carpenter writes:
The deep philosophy of childhood! "Mamma," said Lilian,
aged seven, the other day, " what sort of a place is heaven ? " So
mamma explained to her the orthodox picture of heaven. "And
now, mamma, what sort of a place is hell?" And mamma
explained, as delicately as she could, the foul and sinful nightmare
called by the orthodox, hell. " Well," said Lilian, after a moment's
reflection, "I don't think I want to go to either of those places
when I die, mamma. 1 think I'd rather be a corpse." This sim-
ple child's philosophy calls to ray mind a certain deep and beauti-
ful legend of the Middle Ages: "St. Louis, the king, having sent
Iv.o, Bishop of Chartres, on an embassy, the bishop met a woman
on the way, grave, sad, fantastic and melancholic, with fire in one
hand and water in the other. He asked what those symbols
meant. She answered 'My purpose is with fire to burn paradise,
and with water to quench the flames of hell, that men may serve
God without the incentives of hope and fear, and purely for the
love of God.'" This is suggested to mv mind by your clipping
from the Boston Transcript, and I take the liberty of sending it
to vou.
* * *
Not only the individual experience slowly acquired,
but the accumulated experience of the race, organized in
language, condensed in instruments and axioms, and in
what may be called the inherited intuitions — these form
the multiple unity which is expressed in the abstract
term " experience." — G. II. Lewes.
* * #
Anthropomorphism will never be obliterated from
the ideas of the unintellectual. Their God, at the best,
will never be more than the gigantic shadow of a man —
a vast phantom of humanity, like one of those Alpine
spectres seen in the midst of the clouds by him who
turns his back to the sun. — J. W. Draper.
% % %
It is a curious fact that, wherever he goes, a Unitarian minis-
ter will commonly receive the most kindly treatment from Catho-
lics. Perhaps, because we are so far apart, they never feel any
danger of being classified with Unitarians. — Christian Register.
You cannot convert the world to liberalism by spread-eagle
oratory and a brass band. You have got to show by its fruits
that it is good and then good people will gradually gravitate
toward it. — Monroe s Iron-Clad Age.
UNREVEALED.
BY HELEN T. CLARK.
Life's good gifts come,
And, lo! unheeded under foot we tread
The bloom that for us sweetness might have shed —
Before whose blessing we are blind and dumb!
Broad highways lead
Up from _ the fens of darkness and despair;
Yet our poor faltering feet must stumble there,
And groping 'mid the thorns our brows must bleed.
Our true friends reach
Strong hands to help us o'er the heights of pain ;
Yet to our alien ears their cries are vain —
We own them not — by glance, or touch, or speech.
Ah, me! when from our eyes
Some swift day rends the veil, yet all too late,
How shall we stand and mourn without the gate,
Wringing frail hands in impotent surprise!
438
THE OPEN COURT.
MAGNANIMITY.
BY SARA A. UNDERWOOD.
In dreams came Life to Youth. " Behold!"
.She said, " my hand doth gifts enfold —
From these select thine aim.
Whate'er the good thou deem'st supreme,
That gift is thine; but in Fate's scheme
But one gift canst thou claim.
" Bethink thee, then, and wisely choose;
No right is mine thee to refuse,
However wrong thy choice."
" What are thy gifts?" Youth, wondering, cries,
Hope speaking in his earnest eyes
And in his vibrant voice.
" Wealth, Fame, Love, Power, Song, sweet Ease,
Pride, Pleasure, Art, Ambition — these
Are but a few of scores
'Twould weary me to name. Name thou
That which will thee most bliss allow —
'Tis thine from out my stores."
" Since thou may'st give one gift alone,
Grant me," cried Youth in rapturous tone,
" That which is held most rare!
The gift the gods for heroes save."
" Nay," said Life, gently, " though thou'rt brave
To ask that gilt, forbear!
" Take thou — for I may thus advise —
Some lesser gift, some lower prize,
Which thee more peace shall bring;
Since its strange secret sweet delight
Is won through many a bitter fight
Of stern self-conquering."
Fire sudden flashed from Youth's brave eyes,
Clear rang his voice — " No sacrifice
Is hard to win the Best;
No lesser gift I take, oh, Life —
Welcome be turmoil, hurts and strife —
I've courage for the test!"
" Nay, harder test than strife thou'lt meet;
This gift first bitter tastes, then sweet
Beyond all common ken.
Canst thou swear fealty to mankind,
To thine own needs grow deaf and blind
To uplift fallen men?
" Canst thou unwavering stand by truth
In weal or woe? Ah, even, Youth,
When Love pleads error's cause?
Canst thou sweet-natured keep when those
Thou'rt sworn to aid turn bitterest foes,
And Justice's self withdraws?
" Canst thou with patience dumbly hear
The ignorant hmnts of those held dear!
Worse, far, than sneer of foe!
Nor be, by jibings undeserved,
A moment from thy duty swerved,
Content to Duty know?
" Canst stand unmoved by prayer or fear
When Right demands, thy course severe;
Nor feel one glow of wrath
When men shall curse thy steadfast course
And vainly try by bribes or force
To turn thee from thy path ?
" Canst thou thy patience firmly keep,
So good be done — though others reap
The harvest thou hast sown;
If honors which are justly thine
'Mid enemies' laurels brightly shine,
While thou standst by unknown?
" Canst thou, when foes repent, forgive,
Nor let upbraiding memories live
In look, or tone, or word?
The weak uphold who hurled thee down,
And Ignorance teach without a frown
Or taunt when it has erred ?
" Canst undismayed see insolent fraud
Thy place obtain, while fools applaud
Thy friendships undermined ;
Nor stop thy work to vengeance wreak,
But. patient wait (till Time shall speak),
A verdict true to find ?
" Canst thou at length face, dauntless — Death !
And if need be with thy last breath
Inspire more craven souls?
And knowing hatred may assail
Thy memory, neither blame nor rail
At those whom hate controls?"
" The faith thus kept — the victory gained —
What guerdons won, what joy attained?"
Asked Youth, now faltering, grave.
" Ah, then," smiled Life, " thy soul shall glow
With light divine, and thou shalt know
The best that life e'er gave.
" This gift brings others in its wake;
The earth shall into music break —
An undertone of song —
Which shall inspire with its refrain
Thy soul to dare and dare again
In battle 'gainst the wrong."
" O name this gift of wondrous power!"
Urged Youth, " and grant it for my dower —
O say it may be mine!"
Into Life's face new beauty broke,
With thrilling, reverent voice she spoke —
" Magnanimity lie thine!"
THE OPEN COURT.
439
THROUGH WHAT HISTORICAL CHANNELS DID
BUDDHISM INFLUENCE EARLY
CHRISTIANITY?
BY GENERAL T- <5. R- FORLOXG, Al'THOR OF "RIVERS OF LIFE."
Part III.— Concluded.
The old " Aurea Legenda" states that St. Thomas,
instructed by God, went as a mason to build the palace
of King Gondophares or Gondoforu?, in Meilau or Black
Mina {Kala-Mina in the language of India) the cradle of
the Buddist Ikshvakus on the Indus at Patala, the present
Tatta. Here St. Thomas was believed, according to the
most trustworthy legends, to have been martyred in 60
A.c, and Professor Beal, in noticing this in General Cun-
ningham's Archtrological Survey of India, Vol. II, of
lS62-65,adds (p. 13S): "It is remarkable that about this
time (50 A.c.) Asvaghosha, the famous Buddist mis-
sionary, was taken by Chanda or Gandha, apparently an
immediate successor of Gondophares, to Northern
India as his secretary or personal adviser;" and we
know that Asvaghosha's teaching and writings were
thoroughly Buddhistic, and exactly such as the anti-
kosmic Essenes and their Christian conquerors would
be likely to adopt, and which in fact they did teach.
The Professor adds, as showing the wide area early
traversed by Buddhism, that " the Chinese writer Falin,
in his Po-tsi-lun, brings a mass of evidence to show
that Buddhist books were known in China before the
time of the Emperor She-hwang-ti, of 221 B.C." Dur-
ing his reign an Indian monk, Lifang, and seventeen
companions introduced Buddhist sacred writings into
China, regarding which Falin and others "give full
particular, resting on the best foundations, as to the per-
secutions and imprisonment" of the sect, and many
supposed miraculous deliverances, none of which could
have been invented, says Professor Beal. It is, as he
adds, "an historical fact" that Buddhism had waxed
strong under the Emperor Wu-ti, 140-S6 B.C.; had
become a State religion of China under Ming-ti, 58— 76
a.c, and that Asvaghosha's great poem appeared in
China about this time.*
Eusebius and Epiphanius tell us that Demetrius, the
librarian of Alexandria, urged his royal master, the
Greeko-Egyptian Ptolemy Philadelphus, "the con-
queror of Baktria," to try and secure the sacred writings
of India for his great library in Alexandria; and we
may be very sure this literary king did so, and did not
find it a difficult task, for he reigned from 2S3 to 247
B.C. — that is, during almost the whole life of the pros-
elytising Emperor Asoka, then inscribing his Buddhis-
tic tenets on rocks and pillars throughout Northern
India and Afghanistan, and stretching out his hands to
Greeks, Baktrians and Chinese, proving that Buddhism
was the first and perhaps the greatest of missionarv
faiths.
* Cf. Beal, at pp. 53, 90, etc., and Father Hue's China and Tartary when
-quoting the Syrian Chron. and Roman Breviary, he says: ''Thomas fell
pierced with arrows at Calamina."
It was not with closed eyes and ears that Ptolemy and
his savans would pass over all the intermediate States
toward Babylon, Baktria and India, countries where
Ezraitic Jews were still compiling their sacred writings,
aided by the Babylonian Sanhedrim, the schools of
Berosos, and the Greek centers which sprung up on
the scattering abroad of the hosts of Alexander.
Ptolemy Philadelphus died in 247, and was suc-
ceeded by Ptolemy Energetes, who was coeval with
Antiochus Theos, "the Antiyako 1'ona Raja1'' men-
tioned by Asoka, and to whom he sent Buddhist
missionaries. These would of course preach to amazed
Western armies the brotherhood of all men, and the
immorality of war, save that against our own evil incli-
nations ("the world and the devil," in later Western
parlance) and the beauty of contentment even in pov-
erty and rags.
They would, like their lord, urge that it was more
glorious to subdue one's self than to rule multitudes; to
be a saviour of men rather than a conqueror; to strive to
assuage the untold miseries of the world, rather than,
by indulging vanity and passion, to add to the normal
weight of sorrow. From such teaching would naturally
arise the Therapeuts, Essenes, etc. ; and we know of
the former in 200 B.C. and the latter about 150 B.C.
Thus we need not wonder at Eusebius and others point-
ing to a kind of " Christianity before Christ," for
Eclectics and such like sects had organized churches,
with deacons, presbyters or similar office-bearers, and
these "used to meet on the Sabbath evenings for prayer,
praise and other religious exercises."*
But to return to Asoka. He had adopted Buddhism
in 274, and became emperor in 263 B.C. when he dis-
patched embassies to all the Greek kings of Baktria,
Persia, and westward, and entered upon a free corres-
pondence with many literary foreigners. In 250 we
find the plays of Sophokles being read in the camps and
courts of Eastern Parthian princes, one of whom trans-
lated, as before stated, no less than one hundred and
seventy-six distinct Buddhist works into Chinese, though
Professor Beal thinks this may have taken place about
149 a.c, which seems much too late. Even this date
does not invalidate our arguments and conclusions
drawn from many other facts, and much circumstan-
tial evidence, viz., that long before our gospels (170
a.c) Western Asia was saturated with Buddhism, and
especially so all the widely extended Parthian empire.
It is, as Professor Beal says, " an historical fact," that
Antigonus Gonatas, king of Makedon, is mentioned in
three copies of one of the Edicts of Asoka, of say 240
B.C., and Antigonus was the patron if not the disciple of
"Zenon the Eastern," and invited Zenon to his Court as
a teacher of doctrines very similar to Buddhism. We
are told that " he must have known as much of Asoka
* Rev. Dr. Cunningham's Croal Sects, 1SS6.
44o
THE OPEN COURT.
as that edict writer did of him, Antigonus," and he
would naturally wish for Zenon at his Court, for he taught
as Asoka taught.
Buddhists have no caste like Hindus, to keep them
apart from foreigners, and Asoka was believed to
have Greek blood in his veins, inasmuch as his grand-
father, Chandra-Gupta, who is believed to have died 291
B.C., had married a daughter of Seleukos, which
accounts for Asoka's evident bent westward. He sent
embassies to five Greek monarchs, which shows "a close
connection between India and the Western world."*
When Asoka died in 221 B.C., Buddhism was the
acknowledged leading faith from the farthest western
limits of Parthia up toward the Hari-rud (" Heri-river"
of Herat) to Baktria and mid-Asia into China. It was
supreme in India to Ceylon, and rapidly becoming so
in Barma, Siam and the Indian Archipelago; and the
great maritime Sabean races of Arabia had become
familiar with all its customs, rites and symbolisms at
their every port-of-call in the furthest Eastern seas, so
that the highly religious races of Egypt " would hear
all about it bv channels similar to those by which," as
Darmestettr shows, " the Greek plays reached Baroch
or Baroda."
At this time also — 221 B.C. — we find Chinese armies
on the lower Oxus, then thronged with Buddhists of
the old and new schools; and Falin, the Chinese writer^
was rejoicing that his country had then a large Buddhist
literature. Again, is 190 B.C., China was pressing hard
upon Parthia, and endeavoring to invade India, where
vast shrines, like those of Sanchi and Amravati, were
rising everywhere; and no effort was spared by some
million of zealous monks in propagating their great
Tathagata's teachings. In this busy second century
B.C., we also find Buddhistic Sakas, or Sakyas, seizing
Seistan and Khorasan, and the Chinese emperor, Wu-ti,
sending embassies to Parthian and Indian kings. One
of Asoka's sons — Jalaka — was king of Kashmir and its
outlying districts, stretching into Kabul^ and toward
Baktria; and another son — Kunala — was ruling over
all northwest India, and almost as earnest as his great
father in propagating his faith.
When Asoka's dynasty fell, about 150 B.C., the
Baktrian Greeks again pressed across into the heart of
Buddhism, and under Menander, established them-
selves over most of the Panjab, and reigned there from
at least 130 to 50 B.C. "It was with this Menander,"
thinks Professor Beal, "that the so famous discussion
occurred, known in Pali as the Milinda-panho, or dia-
logues between King Milinda and the Buddhist sage
Naga-Sena." This traversed all the abstrusest doc-
trines of Buddhism, as well as burning questions of a
special creation — the soul, immortality, etc. — then agi-
tating the whole eastern and cultured portions of the
* Cf. pp. 133-170 Beat's Buddhism in China and all Cap. IX.
Western world. Jews and Gentiles were then busy
propagating these, each on their own lines; but the
light was from the East.
Alexander Polyhistor tells us that in his time —
100 to 50 b.c — Buddhists in Baktria taught and prac-
ticed all manner of Buddhistic continence and asceticism,
and that for a century before his day the city of
Alassada, on the upper Oxus, was famed as a mission-
ary center from which Buddists propagated the faith.
It was, in fact, a vast S. P. G. "Society for the propa-
gation of the gospel in foreign parts," where learned
and trusted " fathers of the church" taught young mis-
sionaries how to combat " the non-Buddhistic religions
of the world." This is the propaganda which would
naturally start such sects as the Therapeuts of 200
and the Essenes of 150 b.c.,' the Baptizers of the
Euphrates and the Jordan, culminating in Johanites and
Manicheans of Ctesiphon. By 59 B.C., Chinese Budd-
hists ruled over all Eastern Turkestan, in direct and
constant intercourse with Parthia, whose rule extended
into Syria; and in 37 a.c Roman armies were travers-
ing all Mesopotamia, and in 40 A.c, when Apollonius
of Tyana was returning from India, a great massacre of
Jews took place in Babylon, dispersing the race to
furthest east and west. The year 7S a.c was the impe-
rial era of Buddhism, the Saka of all Sakyas. The
times were ripe and had been ripening rapidly from 600
B.C., when Persians said their new Zoroastrianism had
already been preached. Greeks and Westerns had
listened to every doctrine of Europe and Asia, and
Messiah after Messiah had arisen more or less known
to all. It wanted but the loosening of Roman rule and
faith for any new religion to rise and be successful, pro-
vided it was sufficiently mystical and somewhat remote
and Eastern in its history, and combining in its morals,
rites and symbolisms what had become sacred in the
eyes of all.
Alexandria then dethroned Balk and Samarkand as
"the Meka of the west." It was a vast center of
religious philosophies, arts and industries, where the
Egyptian Chrestos "the good" had given place to a
"Divine Logos" — to the Jewish "wisdom of Solomon,"
and of " Tesus, son of Sirach," and then to the Jesus of
Paul. Here the religions of Zoroaster, of Magi,
Essenes, Jews, Greeks and Christians were familiar to
every reader, and freely discussed in numerous literary
and religious societies, and we therefore hesitate not to
affirm that so likewise were known the great philoso-
phies of Vedantistsand Buddhists, and of all the schools
preceding and following the reformation of the great
Guru, who had before the end of the second century
B.C. converted at least 200 millions of Asiatics, and
stirred to its base every school of thought in Asia.
Like Christianity, Buddhism has been called a
pessimism, for it too was more especially addressed to
THE OPEN COURT.
44 l
the weary and heavy laden; telling them to he content
with their lot, and consider the lilies how they grow, to
beg from door to door, and seek comfort by the silenc-
ing of the passions; and it met with a success unknown
to any other faith. It passed through the usual fiery
ordeals of faith, and was long scouted at by Jew and
Gentile, Christian and Pagan, but especially by kings
and nobles and captains of armies, like those of Alex-
ander in 330-325 b.c. This was, however, as before
stated, some 500 years before our Canonical Gospels
were written, or rather known to be written, according
to history and the great historical inquiry of the author
of Supernatural Religion.
The savans of Alexander found Buddhism strongly
in the ascendant from India to the Oxus and the Kas-
pian, and with a powerful proselytising agency then ad-
vancing westward. Restless Sramans, monks, priests and
peripatetic mendicants, had never ceased to wander over
half of Asia to proclaim their great master's message
from the time of his Nirvana, about 500 B.C., and the
caves and cells of the Bamiau Pass, and those on the
Cophes, Oxus and Hori Rud had re-echoed to their
chants and teaching long before Greeks entered Ariana.
The Grecian invasion would greatly facilitate the pro-
gress of the Buddhist missionaries, and they had ample
time between, say 300 B.C. and 150 A.C., to fulfill their
gospel mandate, that "all must preach what the master
taught — that who so hides his faith shall be struck with
blindness." Thus diligent Sramans had long sought
every lone pass in wild mountains or river gorges,
where they knew armies or travelers must pass and rest,
in order "to compass their pioselytes," and the wider to
disseminate their faith in all lands. They urged on
king and peasant, the robber and murderer, that the
world was but a passing show in which they should try
to assuage the miseries of their fellows; that they
should ponder less upon their gods and more on a gos-
pel of duty; and though this h d little immediate effect,
and on some never had any, yet it commended itself to
good men, and lightened the burdens of the weary.
THOUGHT WITHOUT WORDS.
The following correspondence between Mr. F. Gal-
ton, Mr. George Romanes, the Duke of Argyll, etc., and
Professor Max Midler on "Thought Without Words,"
is reprinted from Mature after careful revision :
I. LETTER FROM MR. F. GALTON, F.R.S.
May 12, 1SS7.
The recent work of Prof. Max Muller contains theories en
the descent of man which are entirely based on the assertion that
not even the most rudimentary processes of true thought can be
carried on without words. From this he argues that as man is
the only truly speaking animal the constitution of his mind is
separated from that of brutes by a wide gulf, which no process of
evolution that advanced by small steps could possibly stride over.
Now, if a single instance can be substantiated of a man thinking
without words, all this anthropological theory, which includes
the more ambitious part of his work, will necessarily collapse.
I maintain that such instances exist, and the first that I shall
mention, and which I will describe, al length, is my own. Let
me say that I am accustomed to introspection, and have practised
it seriously, and that what I state now is not random talk but the
result of frequent observation. It happens that I take pleasure
in mechanical contrivances; the simpler of these are thought out
by me absolutely without the use of any mental words. Suppose
something does not fit; I examine it, go to my tools, pick out the
right ones, and set to work and repair the defect, of: en without a
single word crossing my mind. I can easily go through such a
process in imagination, and inhibit any mental word from present-
ing itself. It is well known at billiards that some persons play
much more "with their heads" than others. I am but an
indifferent player; still, when I do play, I think out the best
stroke as well as I can, but not in words. I hold the cue with
nascent and anticipatory gesture, and follow the probable course
of the ball from cushion to cushion with my eye before I make
the stroke, but I say nothing whatever to myself. At chess, which
I also play indifferently, I usually calculate my moves, but not
more than one or two stages ahead, by eye alone.
Formerly, I practised fencing, in which, as in billiards, the
" head " counts for much. Though I do not fence now, I can
mentally place myself in a fencing position, and then I am intent
and mentallv mute. I do not see how I eould have used mental
words, because they take me as long to form as it does to speak
or to hear them, and much longer than it takes to read them b}'
eye (which I never do in imagination). There is no time in
fencing for such a process. Again, I have many recollections
of scrambles in wild places, one of which is still vivid, of
crossing a broad torrent from stone to stone, over some of which
the angry-looking water was washing. I was intellectually
wearied when I got to the other side, from the constant care and
intentness with which it had been necessary to exercise the
judgment. During the crossing, I am sure, for similar reasons
to those already given, that I was mentally mute. It may be
objected that no true thought is exercised in the act of picking
one's way, as a goat could do that, and much better than a man.
I grant this as regards the goat, but deny the inference, because
picking the way under difficult conditions does, I am convinced,
greatly strain the attention and judgment. In simple algebra,
I never used mental words. Latterly, for example, I had some
common arithmetic series to sum, and worked them out not by
the use of the formula, but by the process through which the
formula is calculated, and that without the necessity of any
mental word. Let us suppose the question -was, how many
strokes were struck by a clock in twelve hours (not counting the
half-hours), -then I should have written 1, 2 . . .; and below it,
12, 11, . . .; then 2 .... 13 X 12, then 13 X 6 — 78. Addi-
tion, as De Morgan somewhere insisted, is far more swiftly done
by the eye alone; the tendency to use mental words should be
withstood. In simple geometry I always work with actual or
mental lines; in fact, I fail to arrive at the full conviction that a
problem is fairly taken in by me, unless I have contrived some-
how to disembarrass it of words.
Prof. Max Muller says that no one can think of a dog without
mentally using the word dog, or its equivalent in some other
language, and he offers this as a crucial test of the truth of his
theory. It utterly fails with me. On thinking of a dog, the
name at once disappears, and I find myself mentally in that same
expectant attitude in which I should be if I were told that a dog
was in an obscure part of the room or just coming round the
corner. I have no clear visual image of a dog, but the sense
of an ill-defined spot that might shape itself into any specified
form of dog, and that might jump, fawn, snarl, bark, or do
anything else that a dog might do, but nothing else. I address
myself in preparation for any act of the sort, just as when
442
THE OPEN COURT.
standing before an antagonist in fencing I am ready to meet
anv thrust or feint, but exclude from my anticipation every
movement that falls without the province of fair fencing.
He gives another test of a more advanced mental process,
namelv, that of thinking of the phrase "cogito, ergo sum" with-
out words. I addressed myself to the task at a time when I was
not in a mood for introspection, and was bungling over it when
I insensibly lapsed into thinking, not for the first time, whether
the statement was true. After a little, I surprised myself hard
at thought in my usual way — that is, without a word passing
through mv mind. I was alternately placing myself mentally
in the attitude of thinking, and then in that of being, and of
watching how much was common to the two processes.
It is a serious drawback to me in writing, and still more in
explaining myself, that I do not so easily think in words as
otherwise. It often happens that after being hard at work, and
having arrived at results that are perfectly clear and satisfactory
to myself, when I try to express them in language I feel that I
must begin by putting myself upon quite another intellectual
plane. I have to translate my thoughts into a language that
does not run very evenly with them. I therefore waste a vast
deal of time in seeking for appropriate words and phrases, and
am conscious, when required to speak on a sudden, of being
often verv obscure through mere verbal maladroitness, and not
through want of clearness of perception. This is one of the
small annoyances of my life. I may add that often while
engaged in thinking out something I catch an accompaniment
of nonsense words, just as the notes of a song might accompany
thought. Also, that after I have made a mental step, the
appropriate word frequently follows as an echo; as a rule, it
does not accompany it.
Lastlv, I frequently employ nonsense words as temporary
symbols, as the logical x and y of ordinary thought, which is a
practice that, as may well be conceived, does not conduce to
clearness of exposition. So much for my own experiences,
which I hold to be fatal to that claim of an invariable dependence
between thoughts and words which Prof. Max Miiller postulates
as the ground of his anthopological theories.
As regards the habits of others, at the time when I was
inquiring into the statistics of mental imagery, I obtained some
answers to the following effect: " I depend so much upon mental
pictures that I think if I were to lose the power of seeing them
I should not be able to think at all." There is an admirable
little book published last year or the year before by Binet, Sur le
Raisonnement, which is clear and solid, and deserves careful
reading two or three times over. It contains pathological cases in
which the very contingency of losing the power of seeing mental
pictures just alluded to has taken place. The book shows the
important part played by visual and motile as well as audile,
imaginations in the act of reasoning. This and much recent
literature on the subject seems wholly unknown by Prof. Max
Miiller, who has fallen into the common error of writers not long
since, but which I hoped had now become obsolete, of believing
that the minds of everyone else are like one's own. His apti-
tudes and linguistic pursuits are likely to render him peculiarly
dependent on words, and the other literary philosophers whom
he quotes in partial confirmation of his extreme views are likely
for the same cause, but in a less degree, to have been similarly
dependent. Before a just knowledge can be attained concerning
any faculty of the human race we must inquire into its distri-
bution among all sorts and conditions of men, and on a large
scale, and not among those persons alone who belong to a highly
specialized literary class.
I have inquired myself so far as opportunities admitted, and
arrived at a result that contradicts the fundamental proposition
in the book before us, having ascertained, to my own satisfaction
at least, that in a relatively small number of persons true thought
is habitually carried on without the use of mental or spoken
words. Francis Galton.
II. LETTER FROM THE DUKE OF ARGYLL.
Argyll Lodge, Kensington, May 12, 1S87.
I do not see that Prof. Max Miiller's theory of the insepara-
bility of thought from language, whether true or erroneous, has
any important bearing on the origin of man, whether by evolution
or otherwise. It is a question at all events to be studied by itself,
and to be tested by such experiments as we can make by intro-
spection, or by such facts as can be ascertained by outward ob-
servation.
My own opinion is strongly in favor of the conclusion urged
by Mr. F. Galton. It seems to me quite certain that we can and
do constantly think of things without thinking of any sound, or
word, as designating them. Language seems to me to be neces-
sary to the progress of thought, but not at all necessary to the
mere act of thinking. " It is a product of thought; an expression
of it;" a vehicle for the communication of it; a channel for the
conveyance of it; and an embodiment which is essential to its
growth and continuity. But it seems to me to be altogether erro-
neous to represent it as any inseparable part of cogitation. Mon-
keys and dogs are without true thought not because they are
speechless; but they are speechless because they have no abstract
ideas, and no true reasoning powers. In parrots the power
of mere articulation exists sometimes in wronderful perfection.
But parrots are no cleverer than many other birds which have no
such power.
Man's vocal organs are correlated with his brain. Both are
equally mysterious because they are co-operative, and yet separ-
able, parts of one "plan." Argyll.
III. LETTER FROM MR. HYDE CLARKE.
32 St. George's Square, S. W., May 12, 28S7.
Having much of the same experience as Mr. Galton, I never-
theless prefer dealing with a larger group of facts. I have often
referred to the mutes of the seraglio at Constantinople, who can-
not be charged with thinking in words. They have their own
sign conversation among themselves, and which has no necessary
reference to words. Even the names of individuals are suppressed
among themselves, though they sometimes use lip reading to an
outsider to make him understand a name. Any one having a
knowledge of sign language is aware that it is independent of
words. The tenses of verbs, etc., are supplied by gestures.
The mutes are not deficient in intelligence. They take a great
interest in politics, and have the earliest news. It is true this is
obtained by hearing, though they are supposed to be deaf-mutes,
but among themselves everything is transmitted by signs.
Hyde Clarke.
IV. LETTER FROM MR. mellard reade.
I think that all who are engaged in mechanical work and
planning will fully indorse what Mr. Francis Galton says as to
thought being unaccompanied by words in the mental processes
gone through. Having been all my life since school-days en-
gaged in the practice of architecture and civil engineering, I can
assure Prof. Max Miiller that designing and invention are done
entirely by mental pictures. It is, I find, the same with original
geological thought — words are only an incumbrance. For the
conveyance and accummulation of knowledge some sort of sym-
bols are required, but it appears to me that spoken language or
written words are not absolutely necessary, as other means of
representing ideas could be contrived. In fact, words are in
many cases so cumbersome that other methods have been devised
for imparting knowledge. In mechanics the graphic method, for
instance. T. Mellard Reade.
THR O P R N CO IT RT.
ii.;
V. LETTER FROM S. F. M. ').
On reading Mr. Galton's letter, I cannot help asking how
Prof. Max Miiller would account for early processes of thought
in a deaf-mute: does he deny them? S. F. M. Q.
VI. LETTER FROM PROF. MAX MULLER.
All Souls' College, Oxford, May 15, 1887.
Dear Mr. Galton — I have to thank you for sending me the
letter which you published in Nature, and in which you discuss
the fundamental principle of my recent book on the Science of
Thought, the identity of language and reason. Yours is the kind
of criticism I like — honest, straightforward, to the point. I shall
try to answer your criticism in the same spirit.
You say, and you say rightly, that if a single instance could
be produced of a man reasoning without words, my whole system
of philosophy would collapse ; and you go on to say that you your-
self are such an instance — that you can reason without words.
So can I, and I have said so in several passages of mv book.
But what I call reasoning without words is no more than reason-
ing without pronouncing words. With you it seems to mean rea-
soning without possessing words. What I call, with Leibniz,
symbolic, abbreviated, or hushed language, what savages call
"speaking in the stomach," presupposes the former existence of
words. What you call thinking without words seems to be
intended for the thinking of beings, whether men or animals, that
possess as yet no words for what they are thinking.
Now let us try to understand one another — that is to say, let
us define the words we are using. We both use thinking in the
sense of reasoning. But thinking has been used by Descartes
and other philosophers in a much wider sense also, so as to include
sensation, passions and intuitive judgments, which clearly require
no words for their realization. It is necessary, therefore, to define
what we mean by thinking before we trv to find out whether we
can think without words. In my book on the Science of Thought
I define thinking as addition and subtraction. That definition
may be right or wrong, but every writer has the right -nay, the
duty, I should say — to explain in what sense he intends to use
certain technical terms. Though nowadays this is considered
rather pedantic, I performed that duty on the very first page of
my book, and it seems somewhat strange that a reviewer in the
Academy should accuse me of not having defined what I mean by
thinking, for most reviewers look at least at the first page of a
work which is given them to review.
Now, the cases which you mention of wordless thought are
not thought at all in my sense of the word. I grant that animals
do a great deal of work by intuition, and that we do the same —
nay, that we often do that kind of work far more quickly and far
more perfectly than by reasoning. You say, for instance, that vou
take pleasure in mechanical contrivances, and if something does
not fit vou examine it, go to your tools, pick out the right one, set
to work and repair the defect often without a single word crossing
your mind. No doubt you can do that. So can the beaver and
the bee. But neither the beaver nor the bee would say what
you say, namely, that in doing this "you inhibit any mental word
from presenting itself." What does that mean if not that the
mental words are there, the most complicated thought- words, such
as tool, defect, fit, are there? only you do not pronounce them, as
little as you pronounce " two shillings and sixpence" when you
pay a cabman half-a-crown.
The same applies to what you say about billiards and fencing.
Neither cannoning nor fencing is thinking. The serpent coiling
itself and springing forward and shooting out its fangs does neither
think nor speak. It sees, it feels, it acts; and, as I stated on p. 8
of my book, that kind of instantaneous and thoughtless action is
often far more successful than the slow results of reasoning. Well
do I remember when I was passing through my drill as a volun-
teer, and sometimes had to think what was right and what was
left, being told by our sergeant, "Them gentlemen as thinks will
never do any good." I am not sure that what we call genius mav
not often be a manifestation of our purely animal nature — a sud-
den tiger's spring rather than une longtte falience.
It is different, however, with chess. A chess-player mav be
very silent, but he deals all the time with thought-words or word-
thoughts. How could it be otherwise? What would be the use
of all his foresight, of all his intuitive combination, if he did not
manipulate with king, queen, knights and castles? and what are
all these but names, most artificial names, too, real agglomerates
of ever so many carefully embedded facts or observations?
An animal may build like the beaver, shoot like the serpent,
fence like the cat, climb like the goat: but no animal can play
chess, and why? Because it has no words, and therefore no
thoughts for what we call king, queen and knights, names and
concepts which we combine and separate according to their con-
tents— that is, according to what we ourselves or our ancestors
have put into them.
You say, again, that in algebra, the most complicated phase
of thought, we do not use words. Nay, you go on to say that in
algebra " the tendency to use mental words should he withstood." No
doubt it should. The player on the pianoforte should likewise
withstand the tendency of saying, now comes C, now comes D,
now comes E, before touching the keys. But how could there be
a tendency to use words, or, as you say in another place, "to dis-
embarrass ourselves of •■words" if the words were not there? In
algebra we are dealing not only with words but with words of
words, and it is the highest excellence of language if it can thus
abbreviate itself more and more. If we had to pronounce every
word we are thinking our progress would be extremely slow. As
it is, we can go through a whole train of thought without uttering
a single word, because we have signs not only for single thoughts
but for whole chains of thoughts. And yet, if we watch ourselves,
it is very curious that we can often feel the vocal chords and the
muscles of the mouth moving as if we were speakinc; nay, we
know that during efforts of intense thought a word will some-
times break out against our will; it may be, as you say, a nonsense
word, yet a word which for some reason or other could not be
inhibited from presenting itself.
You say you have sometimes great difficulty in finding appro-
priate words for your thoughts. Who has not? But does that
prove that thoughts can exist without words? Quite the contrary.
Thoughts for which we cannot find appropriate words are thoughts
expressed as yet by inappropriate, very often by very general,
words. You see a thing and you do not know what it is, and
therefore are at a loss how to call it. There are people who call
everything "that thing" — in French "chose" — because thev are
lazy thinkers and, therefore, clumsy speakers. But even "thing"
and "chose" are names. The more we distinguish, the better we
can name. A good speaker and thinker will not say "that thing,"
" that person," "that man," "that soldier," "that officer," but he
will say at once "that lieutenant-general of fusiliers." He can
name appropriately because he knows correctly, but he knows
nothing correctly or vaguely except in a string of names from
officer down to thing. Embryonic thought which never comes
to the birth is not thought at all, but only the material out of
which thought may spring. Nor can infant thought, which can-
not speak as yet, be called living thought, though the promise of
thought is in it. The true life of thought begins when it is
named, and has been received by baptism into the congregation
of living words.
You say that "after you have made a mental step the appro-
. propriate word frequently follows as an echo; as a rule, it does not
accompany it." I know very well what you mean. But only ask
yourself what mental step you have made and you will see you
stand on words; more or less perfect and appropriate, true; but
444
THE OPEN COURT.
nevertheless, always words. You blame me for having ignored
your labors, which were intended to show that the minds of every
one are not like one's own. You know that I took a great deal of
interest in your researches. They represented to me what I
should venture to call the dialectology of thought. But dialects
of thought do not affect the fundamental principles of thinking;
and the identity of language and reason can hardly be treated as
a matter of idiosyncrasy.
You also blame me for not having read a recent book by
Monsieur Binet. Dear Mr. Galton, as I grow older I find it the
most difficult problem in the world what new books we may safely
leave unread. Think of the number of old books which it is not
safe to leave unread; and yet, when I tell my friends that in order
to speak the lingua franca of philosophy they ought, at least, to
read Kant, they shrug their shoulders and say they have no time,
or, korribile dictu, that Kant is obsolete. I have, however, ordered
Binet, and shall hereafter quote him as an authority. But who is
an authority in these days of anarchy ? I quoted the two greatest
authorities in Germany and England in support of my statement
that the genealogical descent of man from any other known ani-
mal was as yet unproven, and I am told by my reviewer in the
Academy that such statements "deserve to be passed over in
respectful silence." If such descent were proved it would make
no difference whatever to the science of thought. Man would
remain to me what he always has been, the perfect animal; the
animal would remain the stunted man. But why waste our
thoughts on things that may be or may not be? One fact remains :
animals have no language. If, then, man cannot think — or, better,
cannot reason — without language, I think we are right in contend-
ing that animals do not reason as man reasons, though for all we
know they may be all the better for it.
Yours very truly,
Francis Gallon, Esc/., F.Tc.S. F. Max Muller.
(THIS CORRESPONDENCE TO HE CONCLUDED IN NEXT ISSUE.)
CORRESPONDENCE.
THE ETHICAL MOVEMENT IN ENGLAND.
To I lie Editors :
In these days an increasing number of people in England feel
ready to say with Emerson's devout friend, " On Sundays, it
seems wicked to go to church." For if they go to church their
moral nature is shocked by the wholly conventional morality
which is preached there. Respectability rather than goodness
seems to be valued there. There is an absence of reality and
enthusiasm in the affair; dull mediocrity in the pulpit addressing
itself to genteel decorum in the pew. Ruskin once said that he had
heard about two thousand sermons, and never in one of them a
hint as to the conflict between God and mammon. How could
there be? The preacher is, nine times out of ten, the paid servant
of mammon who would be likely to dismiss him speedily if he
preached unpleasant truths. Now, the old theological heaven
having lost its attractions and the old theological hell its terrors,
and both having become as unreal to all intelligent people as Tar-
tarus or the Elysian Fields; it follows necessarily that for any true
teacher of men nothing is left but the dealing with the evils of
actual life, the preaching of a higher social ideal, and the impe-
rious command to men to leave all and follow that ideal. For
reasons which I gave in a previous paper I am convinced that, in
most cases, a Protestant preacher cannot, ipso facto, satisfy these
ethical demands of our time. And as there are others who hold
the same view, it has come to pass that the ethical movement in
America has attracted some attention in this country; with the
result that last year an Ethical Society was founded in London,
which ha^ just issued its first report.
I think the first impetus to the ethical movement here was
given by my friend Mr. J. Graham Brooks, of Brockton, Mass.,
when he was in England upwards of two years ago. Mr. Brooks
made the name and writings of Mr. Salter, of Chicago, well known
in a small circle in London ; and I also did my best to circulate the
lectures, copies of which Mr. Salter was good enough to send me
from time to time, and which contained, in my judgment, the kind
of teaching best adapted to the sociely of our own time.
The little Ethical Society which has been established in Lon-
don is a small affair with modest pretensions. It has about thirty
members, a very small income, and no local habitation. Its
most active members are young men who have accepted in its
main principles the philosophy of the late Thomas H. Green, of
Oxford, and some of whom were actually his pupils. This phi-
losophy, setting before each one of us the development of a good
will as the thing to be aimed at, declares that this good will can
only be realized in a social life of self-conscious persons. Man's
life, though a part of nature, is not merely natural; and hence
Darwinism, or any other merely naturalistic scheme of thought
can furnish no ethical basis for human action. For \ye act in the
light of an ideal; and our action is ethical or non-ethical accord-
ing as it helps or hinders the realizing of that ideal. And that
ideal itself is an ideal for all ; cooperation among men is, there-
fore, needful for its attainment. These, as I understand, are
Green's main ethical principles; and though the Ethical Society
acknowledges as such no special master, yet, as a matter of fact,
most of its members accept this philosophy which, as being anti-
individualistic, is eminently in accord with the social tendencies
of our time.
The Ethical Society thus states its principles: "The members
of this society agree in believing that the moral and religious life
of man is capable of a rational justification and explanation.
They believe that there is at present great need (a) for the exposi-
tion of the actual principles of social morality, generally acknowl-
edged though imperfectly analyzed in current language, (i) for
presentation of the ideal of human progress, and (c) for the teach-
ing of a reasoned out doctrine on the whole subject." The pros-
pectus further states that it will be "the duty of the society to use
every endeavor to arouse the community at large to the import-
ance of testing every social, political and educational question, by
moral and religious principles." The members also propose to
"organize systematic ethical instruction" by lectures at working-
men's clubs, cooperative societies, and in connection with the
movement for the extension of university teaching.
During the past winter a series of lectures under the auspices
of the society was given at Toynbee Hall, the University settle-
ment in the east of London. These lectures were given by differ-
ent persons, but there was a general unity in the teaching pre-
sented. Among the subjects were "Society as Organic," "Con-
science," " The Kingdom of Heaven upon Earth." These
lectures were attended by audiences varying from forty or fifty to
one hundred persons, a portion of whom were workingmen. At
the close of the lecture any person is permitted to put a question
on the subject under consideration, and a short discussion is
invited. By this means difficult points are cleared up and vital
questions more thoroughly pressed home. It is expected and
hoped that next winter a lecture may be given every Sunday and
that the work of the infant society may be somewhat extended.
By this opportunity thus afforded for moral culture, it is hoped
that those who feel the wickedness of going to church and who
have consequently nothing to do on Sundays, may have somp
kind of spiritual nutriment offered in place of orthodoxy's barren
husks.
While thus stating briefly the avowed aims of the Ethical
Society and the ideas under which it has been constituted, I must
add that I doubt whether, on its present lines, it will fill anything
THE OPEN COURT.
445
at all like the positions which the various American societies
occupy. The society is, in a word, too academic; at least that is
my humble judgment. What is specially needed is a society
which should unite cultured people with workingmen. Theoreti-
cally there is nothing in the constitution of the Ethical Society
in London, which forbids it accomplishing this ; practically it does
not do so. Our workingmen really need some strong ethical
movement, for they have nothing at present but their trade unions
and their politics. (I speak of course of the better and more intel-
ligent portion; with the residuum nothing at present can be done,
or indeed ever can be done until there is a revolution in their
physical surroundings). Secularism, which at its best is rather a
poor business, is somewhat played out. Socialism which has
stepped into its place in London and in parts of the north of Eng-
land, is not, as generally preached at the street corners, of a dis-
tinctly ethical stamp. And as on every side of them the workers
see greed and self-interest the dominating forces, it is a wonder
to me that they are as upright as they are. From the churches
they are almost entirely divorced, except in the case of Irish
Catholics. Those institutions are for their masters and their well-
dressed families, not for the working classes. There is, therefore!
a gap which an ethical society might usefully fill. But if such a
society is to do anything for the sad and weary toilers of modern
society, it must state and clearly the necessary implications of its be-
lief. That is, it must put an end forever to the fatal divorce between
thought and action which is the great cause of our weakness.
The kind of truths, e. g., embodied in Mr. Salter's lecture on "The
Social Ideal," mean, if carried into action, nothing less than a
complete sweeping revolution in our whole actual life, social,
industrial, political. These ideas are either meant to be carried
out, or they are merely so much empty verbiage. That is what
workmen whose minds are constantly in touch with realities
feel; and they are right in so feeling. A society, therefore, must
to-day act as well as speak. It must not only teach men to think
rightly, but also to act courageously. The Church stands helpless
before the public criminal, before the grasping capitalist, the
fraudulent speculator, the dishonest legislator. She cannot, dare
not, denounce these men or the society which produces them, for
of that society she is part and parcel. But an ethical society which
is based not on miraculous legends but on moral truth; which
looks to the healing of the wounds of human life here and now
and has no concern with golden streets and palm branches in
cloud-cuckoo land — such a society must do what the Church
refuses to do, if it is to produce any adequate effect. The more
its members chance to dislike the violent, anarchical agitation of
the modern revolutionist, the more strenuously should they strive
to head a moral, peaceful revolution. For it is nothing less than
revolution in some shape which is at hand. The social, economic
and political forces, are all making in that direction ; and those
men will render the greatest service to mankind who can mould
these forces in accordance with the loftiest ethical ideal. But it
that is to be done, speculation and action must go hand in hand;
nor must the college-bred man shrink in timid hesitation from the
world of strife where the masses of the people are half uncon-
sciously trying to work out in their necessarily rude methods the
greatest social transformation the world has ever known. I am
induced to offer this criticism because I do not think the excellent
leaders of the London Ethical Society at present fully realize the
implications of their own doctrines. William Clarke.
JAMES PARTON ON LABOR CRANKS AGAIN.
To Hie Editors: Newburyport, Mass., Sept. 9, 18S7.
I regret to see by the communications of Mr. A. Bate and
Mr. J. B. Barnhill that I did not succeed in conveying my mean-
ing and intent in an article published in The Open Court upon
"Labor Cranks." I must attribute this wholly to my want of
skill or care. I fully agree with both your correspondents in
the opinion that the proper object of human endeavor is the alle-
viation of the common lot. All things and all men are import-
ant or unimportant, estimable or the contrary, only as they pro-
mote or hinder this supreme interest. I heartily congratulate
Mr. Bate that we are now, at this late day, after ages of misdi-
rected effort, face to face with the true and final problem— a more
just and scientific distribution of the results of human labor
— a better, safer and more interesting existence for the average
man. Immense progress has been made in this direction during
the last two centuries, and that progress is due to men who have
wrought in a friendly spirit — men who have patiently discovered
truth or skillfully applied old truth to new uses. The men of
wrath and hate have not helped at all, and never will. It is the
good and compassionate persons who aid in this superlative and
never-ending task of making all men sharers in the best that
man possesses.
As to cranks, they are of two kinds- -those made morbid bv
compassion for others, and those made morbid by an excessive
regard for themselves. A gigantic ego is the usual impelling
motive of the cranks that hate, denounce and destroy. These are
the cranks to be feared and opposed. Not the other kind, the
noble crank, whose very errors often contain more wisdom than
the correct opinions of many whom they disturb and alarm. The
Duke of Argyll may be a sounder political economist than Henry
George, but the atom of regenerating truth in George will never
cease to operate until no duke, nor any other man, will own
20,000 acres of the common estate, and the duke's successor will
himself laugh at the preposterousness of such a distribution.
James Parton.
GOETHE AND SCHILLER'S XENIONS.
To the Editors :
In The Open Court of July :i there appeared an article
entitled "Goethe and Schiller's Xenions." The author, Dr. Paul
Carus, while making the article proper consist in translations of
and comments upon some of the distichs, begins by explaining
the construction of the Latin distich upon which model many of
them were written. In doing this he lays himself open to. the
charge of incompetency. Passing such grammatical errors as the
substitution of the words meter and meters for foot and feet, we
come to the announcement that " the hexameter is known to
Americans from Longfellow's Evangeline" and that " the pen-
tameter consists of twice two and a half, i. e., five dactylic meters,
which are separated by an incision. Instead of two short sylla-
bles there may always be one long syllable, with the exception of
the fifth meter of the hexameter and the latter half of the pen-
tameter."
To those who are equal to the task of understanding this may-
it be submitted; to the student it is simple nonsense.
What does Dr. Carus mean by a pentameter being " sepa-
rated by an incision ? " and why has he not used the proper word
"caesura," which means "division," and not "incision," in speak-
ing of that separation? And why has he, as a crowning error,
omitted to speak of the caesura, which divides the hexameter?
This glaring mistake would be enough in itself to prove his lack
of knowledge upon the subject which he essays to treat; and an
examination of his "schedule " of the distich reveals no ca?sura
in the hexameter. Explanations of verse construction are not
difficult, but to one who, like Dr. Carus, has not thoroughly qual-
ified himself great difficulties are presented. He is like one who
tries to explain the laws which govern mathematics without that
knowledge of terms which is necessary in order to make himself
understood.
Of his translations it may be said that they reveal a disposi-
tion to make hexameters whether the original lines are hexametric
II"
THR OPEN COURT.
or not, and of course faithfulness to the text must be to some
degree sacrificed as a result. Comparison of the originals of the
first and thirteenth of the distichs, as well as the one addressed to
the Muse, with their translations, will show clearly that great
liberty has been taken with them. And lastly it may be said
that a thorough knowledge of two languages is a qualification
necessary to insure correct and worthy translation of literature,
whether in the form of yerse or prose. That the former is the more
difficult goes without saying, and Dr. Cams in attempting this
has shown most clearly y lack of that qualification.
W. F. Barnard.
DR. CARUS' REPLY.
Mr. Barnard speaks of my "explaining the Latin distich."
I said "the Xenions are imitations of a Roman poet's verses,"
from which statement Mr. Barnard apparently draws his wrong
conclusion. The distich is as little Latin as it is German or En-
glish, it is Greek.
I say that the hexameter consists of six and the pentameter
of fiye meters. This is so true that it is a tautology. Mr. Barnard
^avs, it is "a grammatical (!) error." According to him f should
say, " the hexameter has six feet" Why, then did the Greek not
call it ffdiroi'f (six-foot)? They called it ffauerpoc (six-meter).
Incidentally a dactylic meter consists of one foot, but other
meters, as the iambic, consist of two feet. This simple fact ex-
plains why the inaccurate and sloven expression "foot " should
not be used for the correct term "meter."
Although the pentameter consists of twice two and a half
meters, its name pentameter is a misnomer. I should take pleas-
ure in explaining this puzzle, but it would lead me too far now.
Mr. Barnard asks why I did not use the proper term ccesura.
I did not use it because I wanted to avoid the Latin and Greek
terminology.
Mr. Barnard declares that I "as a crowning error omitted to
speak of ///*' ca:sura which divides the hexameter." He also
blames me for having omitted it in the schedule. Let me state
that the hexameter can have many different caesuras (e. g. Kara
-,imv -<;,.-y,n,,i, Tn-ih/iii/itr)/-, iH(h/!it/<ta'/i). Accordingly it would
have been an impossibility to adorn my schedule with the ciesuia of
the hexameter.
Mr. Barnard says caesura means "division" not "incision."
A Latin scholar who has not quite forgotton the elementaries,
will tell him that cajsura is derived from ccederc, "to cut."
Division in the English language can be, but must not be, "a cut."
I advise Mr. Barnard to consult the English dictionaries before
he writes. He will find that the division of the House of
Congress is no cutting it assunder like a piece of wood. How-
ever, the ciesura is a cutting of the verse.
I stated in my article that the two halves of the pentameter
are separated by an incision. Mr. Barnard makes of it: "The
pentameter is separated by an incision," and then asks what that
nonsense means. , I do not know how the pentameter itself can
be separated. Mr. Barnard must first state from what, but can by
no means make me answerable for it's distortion of my sentence.
Mr. Barnard says, that "my translations reveal a disposition
to make hexameters, whether the original lines are hexametric (!)
or not." The original lines are not simply hexametric, they are
distichs and so are my translations. The term hexametric can
not well be applied to the pentameters.
If Mr. Barnard really made an attempt at comparing the two
versions, he betrays that his knowledge of German does not sur-
pass his knowledge of Latin.
The original of the first distich is:
In' Weimar und' in Je' na macht' man Hexa' meter wie' der.
A'ber die Pen' tameter' Sind' doch noch ex' cellenter'.
^Sly translation is (the accentuation is intentionally wrong in
both versions) :
In Weimar and' in Je' na they make' Hexame' ters like this' one.
But' the Pen' tameters' Are' even queer'er than this'.
The original of the thirteenth distich is:
Jeder, nimmst du ihn einzeln, ist leidlich klug und verstiindig,
Aber in corpore gleich Wird euch ein Dummkopf daraus.
I translate :
Every one of them, singly considered, is sensible, doubtless.
But in a body the whole Number of them is an ass.
Here I confess guilty having translated Dummkopf with ass.
Not every ass is necessarily a Dummkopf.
The distich addressed to the Muse is in German :
Was ich ohne Dich ware, ich weiss es nicht! Aber ich schaudre
Seh' ich was ohne Dich Hundert und Tausende sind.
I translate :
How I could live without thee, I know not. But horror o'er-
takes me
Seeing these thousands and more Who without thee can
exist.
Mr. Barnard is welcome to furnish more literal and better
translations. If he deems that task too easy, he may translate
the following distich into Latin or German:
Barnard my scurrilous critic reveals a grotesque disposition.
Badly to libel himself, while he his neighbor reviles.
If Mr. Barnard had known before, how little he knew of the
subject, I do not doubt, he would have used more decent lan-
guage, if he had spoken at all. An old Latin proverb savs:
O si tacuisses, philosophus mansisses.
Dr. Paul Carus.
BOOK REVIEWS.
Facts and Fictions of Mental Healing. By Charles M.
Barrows, author of Bread Pills, a Study of Mind Cure.
Boston: H. H. Carter & Karrick, 1SS7. Cloth, pp. 248.
Price $1.25.
The hold which psychological investigation or "Mental
Science" has taken upon the public mind during the last three
or four years is nowhere so strongly shown as in the abundant
flow from the press of literature on the subject. Periodicals,
leaflets, pamphlets and books reach us from every direction giving
the differing views of individual investigators and believers on a
subject which as yet has received from no one of these writers
adequate scientific explanation satisfactory to thoughtful minds.
The work before us, written from the standpoint of a believer
in the reality of many of the cures said to be effected by "Mental
Healers," is one of the most interesting we have seen on the subject.
It is written in a style so clear, sensible, earnest and vigorous
that whatever one may believe on the matter the attention is
held from beginning to end. Mr. Barrows, we understand, has
had exceptional opportunities in his own family circle for study-
ing the methods and phenomena of what he appropriately terms
"psychopathy," and has for several years in the spirit of sincere
impartial inquiry read all the pros and cons, and investigated
personally many of the alleged "mind cures" effected by
"Christian Scientists," "Metaphysicians," " Mental Hearers," etc.,
and apparently has come to the conclusion that in many cases
real cures are effected by a force in nature which has not yet been
sufficiently investigated to be rightly understood or made use of.
He says: "The day is not far distant, let us hope, when a repu-
table doctor may elect to employ mental treatment instead of
prescribing a drug, and not lose caste." In this work the author
gives a comprehensive risumi of the history of mental healing,
and in doing so goes much further back in time than many readers
would expect. He quotes from many authorities both for and
THE OPEN COURT.
447
against the practice, and nowhere emphasizes his own particular
views, but gives what he thinks impartial evidence and leaves the
reader to draw his own conclusions. He treats the subject in a
philosophical as well as historical manner, devoting one chapter
to a consideration of the Brahminic philosophy, and another to
Emerson's idealism, considering both as having relation to the
more spiritual aspects of his theme, and illustrates his points
often with pertinent and charming quotations from the best poets.
Christian Science pamphlets, containing addresses by
Emma Hopkins, Ursula Gestefield and Mrs. M. Phelon, have
been received, all substantially agreeing in their views. Of
"Christian Science" Mrs. Hopkins says, we see the lion and the
lamb lie down together, when science, the sworn enemy of
religion in the past, and religion, stern persecutor of science in all
ages, are yoked together as fellow-workers in a common cause,
by calling each the explanation and defense of the other, and bv
each claiming to be the enlightener and saviour of humanity.
Ursula N. Gestefield declares that "Christian Science" means
vastly more than a new and improved method of healing the
sick. It does not simply mean the cure of disease in others by
the use of something which one has been taught. It means
self-conquest, spiritual growth and development ; and through this
self-conquest, growth and development, which are the result
of the understanding of what he is aiming at, he becomes
that which enables him both to prevent and overcome all forms
of Buffering; and Mrs. Phelon feels sure that disease only came
with man's " fall" and consequent knowledge of good and evil ; " if
man knew not evil," she oracularly says, " but thought only good,
his mentality, latent or active, nould never produce disease or
suffering upon himself or others."
Among other literature on the subject recently received by us
is a little book, price 50 cents, written by L. P. Mercer and
published bv C. II. Kerr & Co., of this city, entitled The Net*)
/Hr///, with a chapter on "Mind Cure," which is written from
the Swedenborgian standpoint. Mr. Mercer remarks of the
"Physical Wave," of which "Mind Cure" is one of the devel-
opments that "there are epochs marked by the influx of new
forces, giving new impulses to popular thought and accompanied
with revelation of new truths as to the material of thought. Not
oscillations of thought, but advances to new platforms and
standpoints. A characteristic of our time is the vague conscious-
ness of such a beginning. * * * It means that the Lord will
have a new church and a new religion. The time is come and the
forces are set in motion. The new church [i. e. Swedenborgian]
stands unmoved in the midst of all these fluctuations. * * *
She expects these movements before they occur. She knows the
meaning of them before they mature."
Yorfragen der Ethik. By Dr. Christoph Sigwart. Freiburg
im B. 1S86.
Sketch of a New Utilitarianism. By W. Don.. Lighthall,
.1/. A., B. C. L.
Two pamphlets on ethical subjects lie before me. One from
the Old World, the other from the New, the one written byacorv-
pheus of German philosophy, viz., a well-known professor of the
old University of Tubingen, the other by an American, who is
not as far as I know, a philosopher by profession but only from
inclination. Each so different in character and education, start-
ing from quite contrary principles finally agrees with the other
and fundamentally they teach the same ethics — Sigwart, the
scholar of Nestor-like wisdom, carefully weighing all pros and
cons, Lighthall, the confident and aspiring American, boldly
soaring to loftier heights and thus amplifying his horizon.
Sigwart is imbued with the spirit and tendencies of the accu-
mulated religious and philosophic thought of humanity, but he is
at the same time open to new ideas; the weak side of Kant's cate-
goric imperative is not hidden from his critical eye although he
is not lacking in appreciation of the great thinker of Koenigsberg.
Sigwart carefully considers the claims of a happiness theory
in ethics and although in the end he does not accept it, it never-
theless serves to moderate the rigidity of his traditional altruism.
He concludes his essay with these words:
"The satisfaction which can be equally realised by all men
must be found ultimately in the certainty of purpose which lies
beyond individual consciousness and its limits. This purpose is
to work for humanity and the universe in order to appreciate one's
own value as the bearer of a higher idea and the executor of a
divine will. Here ethics and metaphysics meet."
The contrary path has been pursued by Mr. Lighthall. He
started from utilitarianism and found it insufficient as a solid
ethical foundation. In the search for supplying this deficiency he
went to the ancient as well as to the German philosophers and
found what he wanted. The result of his search is what he calls
" a new utilitarianism " — a utilitarianism in which he gets rid of
hedonism and the theory that an exclusive personal happiness is
and must be the only spring of man's actions. His utilitarianism
has broadened into altruism. He concludes with the famous dic-
tum of the philosopher on the Roman throne- Aurelius: "Con-
stantly regard the universe as one living being, having one sub-
stance and one soul ; and observe how all things have reference
to one perception — the perception of this one living being; and
how all things act with one movement." P. c.
The Monk's Wedding. Boston: Cupples & Hurd.
This novel, which comes to us in the most alluring type and
paper, the daintiest of binding, for summer reading, is translated
by Miss Sarah Adams, from the German of Conrad Ferdinand
Meyer. It is a tragic story of med:vval times, purporting to be
told by Dante to a princely group of listeners around the hearth
of a Noble in Verona. It is told in modern style and with a dig-
nitv quite in keeping with the " mingled seriousness and disdain "
made to characterize the narrator, and the novel is full of all the
tragic elements of that boisterous period. The hero of the story,
as the title indicates, is a monk. He has been from childhood
restrained by his vows to a life so blameless as to be proverbial
for its saintliness. When for reasons of family policy he is
released from these monastic vows, the reaction is so violent and
immediate that his passion overrides all law and all intention ot
conduct and he becomes a victim to the wildest and most disas-
trous impulses. There is material enough for a much longer
story and tragedy enough for those murderous Italian times ; and
if other stories told by the friends who were gathered around that
Verona fireside for evening entertainment, were as bristling with
events and daggers as Dante's was, the guests must have all
needed the stirrup cup before they separated for sleeping.
The Scientific Basis of Progress, including that of Morality.
By G. Gore, I.L. D., /•". R. S., author of Tiie Art of Scien-
tific Discovery, The Principles and Practice of Electro-deposition,
The Art of Eiectro-Mctallur±!\\ etc. London and Edinburgh :
Williams & Norgate; pp. 21S.
The aim of this work is to show that the essential starting
point of human progress lies in scientific discovery, that new-
truths are evolved by original research made in accordance with
scientific methods, to illustrate these processes by examples and
to point out how such research can be encouraged. The greatest
obstacle to the discovery of new knowledge the author declares
to be the wide-spread ignorance of the dependence of human
welfare upon scientific research, of the vast importance ot new
truth as a fundamental source of progress. As advance origi-
nates in new knowledge, unless new discoveries are made, new
44§
THE OPEN COURT.
inventions and improvements must sooner or later cease. A
chapter is devoted to showing the importance of new scientific
knowledge as a source of mental and moral advancement.
Dr. Gore shows not only large acquaintance with science, but
philosophic insight and breadth and comprehensiveness of thought.
The work is one which should be read by all those who, under
the influence of theological and metaphysical theories and
methods, are unable to see the intimate relation between scientific
and moral progress.
Review of the Evidences of Christianity. By Abner Knee-
land. Boston : J. P. Mendum, Investigator office, 1S87 ; pp. 204.
Abner Kneeland was for a number of years a Universalist
minister, recognized in his denomination as one of its rrlost learned
representatives. But he changed his views and more than half a
century ago was a figure of considerable prominence owing to his
outspoken opposition to all forms of supernaturalism. He founded
the Boston Investigator and was its first editor. He was tried for
" blasphemy," convicted and sentenced to two months imprison-
ment in Leverett street jail, Boston. The specific charge was that
he had expressed disbelief in the existence of a God. He was
admitted by his prosecutors and persecutors to be a man of
upright life and of many noble traits of character.
We are reminded of these facts by this volume, the tenth
edition of a course of lectures given in New York by Mr. Kneeland
in 1829. The lectures were drawn chiefly from a series of essays
which appeared in the fifth volume of the Correspondent, a radi-
cal freethought journal published in New York." Mr. Kneeland
refers to the author of the articles, who wrote over the pseudonym
" Philo Veritas," as " my learned friend." The author, if we mis-
take not, was Professor Thomas Cooper, of Columbia College,
S. C, a man of ability and learning and of great vigor of expres-
sion, who wrote on scientific, political and theological themes
with equal readiness and zeal. The lectures contain many facts,
citations and references and much sound argument in regard to
Christianity" historically considered, but it would be strange if
after more than fifty years of research and discussion, more accu-
rate and valuable treatises on the same subject had not appeared.
The Bible: What is It? By J.D.Sliaiv. Waco, Texas; pp.49.
Price 25 cents.
The Divinity of Christ. By J. D. Shazr; pp. 49. Price 2ocents.
In these pamphlets, Mr. Shaw, formerly a Methodist minister
of some prominence, now editor of a liberal monthly, The Inde-
pendent Pulpit, discusses the fundamental claims of orthodox
Christianity. The author attempts no original criticism, but he
presents some of the objections to the popular belief as to the
authority and infallibility of the Scriptures in a concise and forci-
ble manner and in a temperate spirit.
The Art Amateur fitly ushers in the golden month of Sep-
tember by an excellent fac simile in color from a painting of
Chrysanthemums by Victor Dargon. The little head, intended
for a plaque by Ellen Welby, is too naive and pretty to be copied
and distorted by all manner of fault in the workmanship of young
amateurs. The reading matter is rather largely commercial, occu-
pied more with the sale of pictures than their production. We
find, however, a pleasant sketch with a portrait of a young Penn-
sylvania artist, Wm. Anderson Coffin, and some notes of his
recollections of Bonnat's Life School. Those young students who
think themselves neglected if a teacher is not always at their
elbow, will be surprised to find that he thought three weeks a very
reasonable interval between his visits. Three weeks," he
laughed, "oh, that is nothing, sometimes le Pere Coynet did not
come for a year." The picture of " Salome," by Henri Regnault,
is far from attractive in black and white, but the description of it
is very interesting and undoubtedly the magic of color lends it a
wonderful charm. Margaret Bertha Wright gives a pleasant little
sketch of Normandy, " The Artists' Country." The technical
and decorative articles are good as usual. We are shocked to find
the Amateur allowing the use of the word phenomenal in its pres-
ent slang meaning. " His success was phenomenal," how absurd!
We think he would have preferred that it should be real.
The Revue de Belgique for August, begins with an article
by Count Goblet d'Alviella, on the reorganization of Belgian
liberals. There is also the first essay of a series giving a minute
account of the revolution in Brabant in 1790. Much more general
interest will be excited by a very able review of Taine's History of
the French Revolution. The famous author is proved guilty not
only of contradicting himself frequently, but of omitting to men-
tion many of the best 'acts of the Convention, for instance, the
establishment of a uniform system of weights and measures, as
well as of normal and polvtechnic schools. All progressive and
liberal movements have so much in common that it is a great pity
to see public opinion in America and England, about the French
Revolution, molded into reactionary channels by that excessive
fondness for finding fault which mars the otherwise brilliant work
ofhothTaine and Carlyle.
This story, which appeared a few months ago in an English
journal, is heartily laughed at on both sides of the Tweed :
Long ago a dreadful war was waged between the King of
Cornwall and the King of Scotland, in which the latter pre-
vailed. The Scottish king, highly elated by his success, sent for
his Prime Minister, Lord Alexander.
Weel, Sandy," said he, " is there ne'er a king we canna con-
quer the noo?" [now.]
" An' it plase Yer Majesty, I ken but o' a'e king that Yer
Majesty canna conquer."
"And wham is he, Sandy?"
Lord Alexander, reverently looking up, said:
"The King of Heeven."
"The King of whaur, Sandy?"
" The King of Heeven."
The Scotch King did not understand, but was unwilling to
show any ignorance.
"Just gang yer ways, Sandy, and tell the King of Heeven to
give up his dominions, or I'll come mysel' and ding him o' them,
and mond, Sandy, ye do not come back till us until ye have done
our biddin'."
Lord Alexander retired, much perplexed, but met a priest,
the sight of whom put a thought into his head which reassured
him, and he returned and presented himself before the throne.
"Weel, Sandy," said the King, "have ye seen the King of
Heeven, and what says he to our biddin'?"
" An' it plase Yer Majesty, I ha'e no seen the King himsel',
but I ha'e seen one of his accredited meenisters."
" Well, what says he?"
" He says Yer Majesty mav e'en ha'e his kingdom for the
asking o' it."
"Was he saeceevil?" said the King, warmed to magnanimity.
"Just gang yer ways back. Sandy, and tell the King o' Heeven
that for his civility, nae Scotchman shall ever set foot in his
kingdom!"
PRESS NOTICES.
We have on our table a copy of The Open Cockt, a new scientific relig-
ious semi-monthly journal, published at Chicago, 111. It is rilled with interest-
ing articles from the pens of the best writers in the countiv. — Battle Lake
(Minn.) Review.
The Open Coukt, a fortnightly journal published in Chicago and
"devoted to establishing ethics and religion upon a scientific basis," has
reiched our table. It has a list of able writers and discusses live topics of the
day. We hope it will continue to come to us. — Cameron (Mo.) Observer.
We are in receipt of a copy of The Open Coukt, a journal published at
175 La Salle street, Chicago, 111., every other week, and is devoted to the work
of establishing ethics and religion upon a scientific basis. We find that the
journal possesses no little amount of common sense and sound logic, and that
it contains contributions of many of the ablest thinkers of this age. — Tustin
(Mich.) Echo.
The Open Court.
A. Fortnightly Journal,
Devoted to the Work of Establishing Ethics and Religion Upon a Scientific Basis.
Vol. I. No. 17.
CHICAGO, SEPTEMBER 29, 1887.
\ Three Dollars per Year.
I Single Copies, 15 cts.
SHAKERS AND SHAKERISM.
BY HESTER M. POOLE.
A late visit to the Shakers at the instance of one of
their elders, filled me with a desire to lay before your
readers some account of these people so interesting to the
thoughtful student of humanity, yet so little understood.
On the eastern boundarv of the State of New York,
twenty miles as the crow flies from the Hudson, and
contiguous to the beautiful hills of Berkshire, in Massa-
chusetts, lies about six thousand acres of land owned and
tilled by the Shakers of Mt. Lebanon.
A lonely and peaceful scene expands before the visi-
tor who rides through these well-tilled farms and in-
spects workshops and dwellings. Along the street one
group of buildings succeed another, five in all, contain-
ing three hundred or more of both sexes and all ages.
Each group constitutes a family, presided over by two
men and two women, whose wisdom, patience, and
tenderness are constantly challenged in administering
more especially to the spiritual necessities of those under
their charge. They are assisted in the temporal affairs
( by two deacons and two deaconesses, whose wisdom is
available in all matters pertaining to the good of the
society. •
The family life is that of a religious communism, the
intention being as far as possible, to preserve and per-
petuate primitive ' Christianity. Body and soul are
consecrated to this purpose. It is a part of their un-
written creed to study the laws of hygiene and conform
to them, to live in celibacy, and to exercise justice in the
earning, owning and distribution of property.
Among them are neither bond nor free, rich nor
poor. All are incited to industry, thrift, generosity and
fraternity, and there is a strong psychologic power in
such sentiments, which, when exercised by masses of
people, produces an influence that not even the stranger
within the gate can quite escape. The despot or the
millionaire would feel out of place among those " gentle
ascetics," whose lives are a rebuke to that spirit of
greed, selfishness and love of luxury which is the curse
of modern civilization. We find at Mt. Lebanon sev-
eral hundred people living in a simple, pure, whole-
some manner, without the help of courthouse, jail, grog
shops or the three professions, so that even from an ex-
ternal point of view, Shaktrism is eminently successful.
All the buildings occupied by the respective families,
constructed of wood, brick and stone, are commodious
and well ventilated. The arrangements for cooking and
eating are admirable; in fact, in regard to appliances
for comfort and sanitation they take the lead among
progressive peoples.
The table, almost entirely vegetarian, is perfect.
Food is fresh, abundant, exquisitely cooked and served
with care and intelligence. Cereals, with the exception
of superfine flour, are cleansed and crushed in their own
mills and used in a variety of ways. There is a large
dairy and tons of fruit, deliciously prepared, are ranged
in storerooms for the winter's consumption. Woman's
work is simplified by curious machinery invented and
made by some of their leaders. All work, but none
overwork. Garments are homemade and until lately
woolen clothing was homespun and home-woven. An
abundance of spring watfr is carried into every build-
ing, ventilation and drainage are excellent and sickness
is almost a myth. Cleanliness of the person and of their
dwellings is carried to its utmost extent. It follows
that simplicity of furnishing is necessary, and that their
apartments, in comparison with those of the world, look
plain and bleak.
Yet recreation and rest, sunshine and cheerfulness
are terms having real meaning. "Age cannot stale nor
custom wither" men and women who live so near to
nature and in the exercise of such noble qualities. Ac-
cordingly they very generally appear to be from ten to
twenty years younger than they really are. Many
reach extreme old age and finally pass away from the
natural decay of the body, with little sickness or pain.
The expression of the face is mild, benignant and
serene, sometimes approaching high spiritual beauty.
So much for the religion of the body — the only
basis of the scientific and enduring.
Before reviewing their religious tenets it may be
well to state that their origin is found in the Revolu-
tionists of Dauphind and Nivarais, France, about the
year 16S9. Offshoots of the parent stock formed a
society in England in 1747; and two years prior to the
Declaration of Independence by the American colonies,
Ann Lee, with seven of her followers, landed on these
shores.
From the little spark brought over by them a fire
was kindled which vivified many souls, and in New
Lebanon over a century ago, these gathered together
45°
THE OPEN COURT
and built their first house for public worship. From
that period they have acted as a leaven among' the ele-
ments of progress.
Mother Ann, so-called from that tender maternal
love which would fain save a world from sin and suffer-
ing, was the first seer to enunciate the principle that the
Great First Cause is dual — He and She — Father and
Mother. It is certain that Theodore Parker obtained
his conception of this deific attribute from the Shakers,
as shown by his correspondence. This duality is now
so generally accepted that churchmen are apt to forget
that the Jewish Jehovah and the Christian God was
forceful, revengeful and on occasion hateful. This one
sided Creator lacked all that sweet plentitude of wom-
anly love, which united with a manhood of correspond-
ing wisdom, would alone be worthy of reverence. And
Christendom waited seventeen centuries for a woman to
declare the duality of the Deific Essence.
This, then, is the central idea of Shakerism. Ranged
about it are others, not the result of dry reasoning, but
of experiences similar to those of Paul and the Penta-
costal church. Profoundly reverent by nature, they
recognize a "divine afflatus," which is the inspiration of
all real development. This divine element they believe
has manifested itself whenever the condition of an indi-
vidual or of society affbided occasion, from the begin-
ning of history through Moses, Isaiah, Swedenborg,
Whitfield and others down to the time of Mother Ann,
and even since then. They declare that "the continu-
ous revelations of truth will ever be the leading lines of
human progress."
What is now known as modern Spiritualism is ac-
cepted by them as a fact. They assert that all phases of
mediumship were common among them several years
prior to the first rap heard at Hydeville and that its advent
to the general public was then foretold. In its higher
phases, shorn of crudities and monstrosities, it is still
sometimes exhibited. Witness the sweet, pathetic yet
simple melodies which come, "the gift of the spirit," as
they believe, to one or another, either in private or in
public worship. A brother or a sister at such times is
inspired to sing a new song to new music, which, when
written down becomes a permanent possession. A large
book has been published consisting of these inspirational
hymns, which is in constant use.
They do not generally believe in the miraculous
birth or divinity of Jesus, hut consider that lie was divine
in the sense of having power to rise above the lower
propensities. His mission was "simply and fully to
manifest the divine attributes to man " more than any
other one who has ever lived.
They also believe that the first wave of deific light
sweeping over the earth after the Reformation, began
with the Quakers. Its mission was to "prepare the
world for the divine form of human society," or the
"kingdom of heaven on earth." The second appear-
ance of this wave or the " Christ-Spirit" was manifested
in and through woman in the form of Ann Lee.
They accept the Christian Bible allegorically and
literally and include among Bibles the Koran, Talmud,
Zendavesta and other books sacred to various nations.
They discountenance war, never go to law among them-
selves, and aim to act in a just, humane and brotherly
manner to all men.
In regard to women " It is the only society in the
world, so far as we know," said Eldress Anna, "where
woman has absolutely the same freedom and power as
man in ever)' respect." And the world may well hail the
advent of woman's era if it shall usher in such noble types
of womanhood as we found at Mt. Lebanon, hid under
the quaint cap and staid dress of the gentle sisterhood.
In regard to the future, Elder Evans has declared their
belief to be that " The old heavens and earth — united
church and state — are fast passing away, dissolving
with the fire of spiritual truth. Out of the material of
the old, earthly, civil governments, a civil government
will arise — is even now arising — in which right, not
might, will predominate. It will be purely secular, a genu-
ine Republic. Men a ad women will be citizens. All
citizens will be free-holders. They will inherit and pos-
sess the land by right of birth. War will cease with the
end of the old monarchical, theological earth. * * *
In the new earth sexuality will be used only for repro-
duction; eating for strength, not gluttony; drinking for
thirst, not drunkenness. And property, being the
product of honest toil — as those who will not work will
not be allowed to eat — will be for the good of all, the
young and the old." .
Purity of mind and body is necessary to Shakerism.
But virgin celibacy has in it nothing of moroseness or
asceticism. A pleasant relation is maintained between
the brethren and sisters, fostered by social meetings in
which reading, conversation and discussions upon topics
germane to the welfare of humanity take place. In
these, all who choose to do so, participate.
Believing that human theologies perish in the using,
while the revelations of truth are continuous and pro-
gressive, they earnestly watch and wait for every sign
of the domination of the spirit of truth and justice over
that of error and falsehood in the government or in
social life. As to them, the fall of man consists in "dis-
orderly relationships," and the serpent is the sensuous
nature. They are strenuous in the advocacy of purity
and temperance. And here it may be said that the insti-
tution of marriage is not condemned by the Shakers.
All men, they consider, are bound to make the animal
propensities tributary to their higher natures, while mar-
riage is a purely worldly institution. They are called to
a higher order of life, to "come out of the world and
be separate.
THE OPEN COURT.
45i
The following description of this growth from a
lower to an upper plane, is from the pen of one of their
number. who wears his eighty odd years as a crown of
wisdom and beauty.
"Allow me to assure you, scientific men, philoso-
phers, doubters, and all interested, that whenever human
spirits are in the right condition and are about to change
from the animal emotional to the divine t motional life,
that there will be manifestations of intelligent spiritual
affinities, forces, effusions of the divine spirit, producing
extraordinary results as on the, day of Pentecost. There
will be deep conviction of sin, hodilv agitations, gifts of
tongues, curing diseases, discernment of spirits and
striking with fear the hardened sinner and unbelieving
opposer."
Whatever may be thought of their beliefs, the catho-
licity of thought evinced by their leaders, the compre-
hensive grasp of affairs, the judgment of the trend and
comparative value of social, political and religous move-
ments, the balancing of various reforms, the interest
maintained in scientific discoveries and inventions, the
depth and breadth of that love of humanity which
dominates every motive, is something as surprising as it
is delightful to the dispassionate visitor.
Prof. Richard T. Ely, of Johns Hopkins University,
who sojourned at Mt. Lebanon for a few weeks, gives
this testimony in regard to that visit: "The feeling
grew upon me that I was in a social observatory, view-
ing as from another planet the buying and selling, the
hurrying to and fro, the marrying and giving in mar-
riage, the toil, the pleasure, the vanity, the oppression,
the good and the evil among men on earth."
There are seventeen communities of Shakers in this
country, containing in all between four and five thou-
sand individuals. These are situated in the States of
New York, Massachusetts, Connecticut, New Hamp-
shire, Maine, Ohio and Kentucky. Elder F. W. Evans,
the able and venerable senior elder at Mt. Lebanon, has
just returned from a visit to England, at the solicitation
of sympathizers in Great Britian who desire to establish
a community. Adherents are conslantly joining them,
though in the nature of things not in large numbers.
Those who believe and work in unison with their aims,
yet who remain without the fold, are more numerous.
However this may be these people who dispense with
liquor and tobacco, who subsist on grains and fruits and
live near to the great heart of nature, practice as well
as preach a temperance and a religion well worthy of
respectful attention.
KARL HEINZEN.
BY K. PETER.
We shall endeavor, in a condensed sketch, to give
some information about one of the most advanced and
outspoken pioneers in search of truth, and the most
fearless advocate and promotor of religious and politi-
cal independence of the present age. But with the
best efforts it is hardly possible to render full justice to
the intrepid champion of unconditional liberty, and the
ardent devotee of unlimited democracy as the sole end
and means for the attainment of truly humane life-
conditions.
Karl Heinzen is not as widely known among Amer-
icans, as he deserves to be, because almost all his polem-
ical and political writings appeared in the German
language, only a few of his essays and pamphlets having
been translated into English. Still among his most
intimate friends and admirers among Americans are
names of such lustre as those of Wendell Phillips,
William Lloyd Garrison, and many other ornaments of
real democracy.
To Karl Heinzen most properly applies the famous
epithet: Sans peur et sans reproche, since his life was
an incessant battle against tyranny and oppression in
whatever form or guise they appeared. Despots of the
state or church, notwithstanding their array of armed
mobs, trembled before his mighty pen from the time he
flung in their faces his awe-inspiring gauntlet, entitled,
The Prussian Bureaucracy, As a political writer of
irresistible power he sprang into existence like a meteor,
or like Minerva from Jupiter's head. His book was
revolutionaiy in character.
Henceforth he was chased from country to country,
and finally driven from the continent, after a five years'
exile in Switzerland, whence the menaces of the infuri-
ated despots had caused his expulsion by overawing the
little Republic. A glorious deed of petty revenge; all
the great powers in arms, commanding millions of
bayonets, against the great power of the pen! Poor
Helvetia had to submit, but the indomitable spirit of
Heinzen could not be suppressed.
In England he could have made his fortune if he
had been able or weak enough to accommodate himself
to circumstances, but his proud republican spirit shrank
from associating with individuals who were not thor-
oughly of his political persuasion. His pamphlet
entitled, Lessons of the Revolution, which the ex-Duke
of Brunswick, against Heinzen's will, published in the
Deutsche Zeitung, raised such a political storm and
involved Heinzen in such embarrassing difficulties, that
all his resources of income were cut off at once. He
resolved to leave Europe and looked to the great West-
ern Republic for new fields of labor to gain the means
for his future existence.
Untiring as ever were his efforts here also in enlight-
en o
ening and humanizing mankind, in spite of the scanty
means of subsistence which his incessant labors yielded
him, yea, in spite of persecution, calumny and defama-
tion by the slavocratic mob and other reactionary parties.
The pro-slavery mob was then all-powerful, and the
452
THE OPEN COURT.
promulgator of human rights, irrespective of sex or
color, was in constant peril of his life.
First Heinzen tried his fortune in New York by
resuscitating a weekly German paper, called, Die
ScJinei/post, which he had edited during his first sojourn
in America (1S47-4S) in company with Tyssowsky, the
ex-dictator of Krakau.
Of the revolutionary enthusiasm that reigned among
the Germans of America two years before, hardly a
trace was left ; thus the funds for his enterprise were not
forthcoming as copiously as previously promised, and
the paper died seven months later, after a lingering ill-
ness of atrophy. All the slave-traders' rabble, the aristo-
cratic nonentities, the communistic Utopians and the
enemies of women's emancipation were set against him
in deadly array. The Schnellpost expired on the 1st
of September, 1S51, but gave not up its "ghost."
The second paper, also published in New York was
the New York Deutsche Zeitung, his favorite issue,
making its appearance on the second of the same month,
and lived three months. Next in order came Janus,
which struggled for twelve months. All these splen-
didly edited papers died of the same disease; want of a
few hundred dollars! The want of "filthy lucre,"
and superabundance of public meanness stopped the
publication of the only decent German papers then
existing!
During the summer of 1S52, while the Janus was
committed to the care of an assistant editor, Heinzen
ventured on a lecturing tour through the principal States
of the Union, the expected proceeds whereof he had
designed for the revolution in Europe, but met with a
sore disappointment, the only returns resulting in debts
for traveling expenses and a sickness of several months'
duration. In Philadelphia where he lectured "On
Brotherly Love," he had an audience of thirty-six; in
Cincinnati, Dayton, Chicago and Toledo he was threat-
ened with execution, because the democratic mob in
those cities represented him as being "in the pay of the
whigs!"
In Albany he was offered gratuitously the City Hall,
splendidly lighted — but he had two listeners — a Ger-
man school teacher and an American who understood
German! But not in the least disheartened by all these
depressing experiences, on the contrary, ready and will-
ing to undertake anything honorable to make his living
while promoting his life's aim — the propagation of
intelligence, the spreading of truth — he accepted a call
from Louisville, Ky., to edit the Herald of the West ;
and there, in the very teeth of the lion, he proclaimed
his abhorence of slavery, in spite of all threats and diffi-
culties— he held his Thermopylae against all hosts, a
modern Leonidas. But the fate overtook him there
also; after three months hard work,- and adding five
hundred new subscribers to the subscription roll, one
night fire was set to the press-room and the establish-
ment laid in ruins.
Thus his fifth promising enterprise came to .an end,
but not his enterprising spirit. The sad experience,
however, gathered at Louisville and the disgusting
atmosphere of the slave-holding State ripened his resolu-
tion to strike his tent and to transfer his household gods
to New York again, in spite of its meanness and indif-
ference regarding efforts put forth in the interests of
progress. After a year's residence in Louisville he
started for the East and remained there, publishing the
most independent paper ever issued in any part of the
globe — Tlie Pioneer.* For more than a quarter of a
century this fearless weekly gladdened the hearts and
fired the courage of its readers by the presentation in
its columns of the most thoroughgoing investigations
and elucidations in every department of useful knowl-
edge, scientific, literary, political, economical and ethical
treatises being the topics of every issue. Its appearance
was an ever recurring holiday to the educated and pro-
gressive minds of honest truth-seekers in earnest, from
the first number to the last.
The 12th of November, 1SS0, was a day of sorrow
throughout the camp of the radicals. The great
spirit of the indefatigable investigator and disseminator
of truth in every accessible branch of desirable knowl-
edge, who never gave way to any aggressor, however
powerful, was silenced by the inexorable, irresistible
victor to whom all must succumb who never submit to
anything else.
On the 1 2th of June, 18S6, a monument worthy of
the noble hero who, in accordance with his last wish,
sleeps in the shady grove on Forest Hill, was unveiled
by his friends and admirers, in an earnest, solemn, but
unostentatious way, fitting the occasion. Vows of
unswerving adherence to his principles were renewed and
new ones made to further his propositions and to spread
broadcast his unimpeachable maxims for the redemption
of oppressed humanity, by enlightening the minds of
the victims of unscrupulous schemers.
However brilliant the genius of Heinzen was, it was
a gift of nature; however accomplished his education, it
was a benefit of favorable circumstances; but his char-
acter was mostly an acquisition by his free choice and
stern, decisive determination. Like ancient prototypes
of Greece or Rome and some radiant examples of the
heroes of '76, his unimpeachable integrity, his never
failing veracity, his ardent devotion to unlimited liberty
and his imperturbable constancy, together with his
unbiased, unselfish love of his fellow men he had acquired
* It was begun at Louisville, January 1st to October, 1S54; continued at
Cincinnati. November, 1S54, till June, 1S55; New York held it from that time to
December, 1S5S: it was then transferred to lioston, where it was printed down
to 1S79, when a serious illncss-of Heinzen imperiously demanded that the prin-
cipal burden should be laid on other shoulders; thus The Pioneer was merged
in the Feidenker, of Milwaukee, after an independent existence of twenty-six
years' duration, and under the sole management of its founder.
THE OPEN COURT.
453
by great efforts. These grand traits form the character-
istic lineaments of the classic man and appear in all his
acts and writings.
With him there was only one divinity, Reason; only
one worship, the cultivation of Truth, her daughter;
only one right, the right to life and liberty; only one
duty, the duty of assisting his fellow man to happiness.
With him there was no compromise admissible between
reason and absurdity, truth and falsehood, right and
wrong; he never made the slightest concession to pusil-
lanimous expediency, nor ever had an excuse for neglect
of duty, whether caused willingly or by incapacity; he
followed the straight (as the shortest) line of logic to the
bitter end of the last consequence, unaffected by per-
sonal gain or loss. We might be permitted to quote
Wendell Phillips' words in regard to his appreciation of
the character of Heinzen, as they were delivered in an
address at the anniversary celebration ofHeinzen's birth-
day on the 22d of February, 1SS1, in the Turn-Halle,
of Boston, after the opening speech of Mrs. Clara
Neymann, of New York.*
Wendell Phillips said that he made.. his acquaintance
with Heinzen in the troublous times of the war of the
rebellion, and valued him highly as the great intellectual
leader of the Germans. " I never met him on the
streets," he said " without a feeling of the highest
respect, and this respect I paid the rare, almost unexam-
pled courage of the man. Mr Heinzen in this respect
stands almost alone among the immigrants to these shores.
His idea of human right had no limitation. His respect
for the rights of a human being as such was not to be
shaken. The temptation to use his talent to gain repu-
tation, money, power, at a time when, a poor emigrant,
he lacked all these and was certain of acquiring them,
was great; yet all these he laid calmly aside for the
sake of the eternal principle of right, of freedom. He
espoused the detested slave cause at a time when to do
so meant poverty, desertion of fellow countrymen,
scorn, persecution even. Thus he acted in every cause.
What seemed to him right, after the most unsparing
search for truth, he upheld, no matter at what cost.
During the war, feeling that, through ignorance or
timidity on the part of Lincoln's government, precious
lives and treasures were being wasted, he was foremost
among a few leading men who proposed the nomination
of Fremont for the presidency. We had many private
meetings and much correspondence with leading men in
New York. I shall never forget some of those con-
versations with Mr. Heinzen. He was so far-seeing
and sagacious; he was so ingenious in contriving; his
judgment so penetrating.
"One other characteristic he had belonging only to
truly great men. There was a kind of serenity and
dignity about him, as one sure of the right in the course
* Published in The Free Religions Itniex, March 3, 1SS1.
which he took, in the principles which he stated. He
was far in advance of other minds; but he was sure, in
his trust in human nature, that all others would come,
must come, to the same point with himself. He could
wait. Few, possessing equal mental ability, are able
also to do this. The greatest courage is to dare to be
wholly consistent. This courage Heinzen showed, when
a little yielding, so little as would have been readily
pardoned on the ground of common sense, would have
gained him popularity, fame, money, power. He
remained true to himself."
Wendell Phillips was no flatterer, being himself an
independent spirit and reformer of great achievements,
as is well known by his contemporaries. Such an
eulogy of a congenial mind carries all its forcible weight
in itself.
Heinzen's exceptional standpoint and disposition in
contradistinction to the great masses was not conducive
toward gathering multitudes of friends around him,
because very few understand or believe that a wise man
should like to benefit the race without having in first
view his own advantage; yea, they even call it foolish
to do good for the sake of the good itself, especially
such an ungrateful good as uncompromising truth.
Still Heinzen numbered among his friends numerous
congenial lovers of liberty, and was on intimate terms
with the best known apostles of universal liberation of
mankind, indeed with the flower of spiritual knighthood
of the era. In Europe he had among his sincerest co-
workers the most eminent of all nations. It will suffice
to mention a few of them, such as are generally famously
known throughout the civilized world: Mazzini, Ruge,
Freiligrath, Herwegh, Ledru Rollin, Louis Blanc,
Galeer and many others. In America he associated with
the most advanced freethinkers and advocates of free-
dom, such as Wendell Phillips, William Lloyd Garri-
son, Horace Seaver, Mrs. Ernestine Rose, and a host of
others, American and German. His work contributed
to effect such a change of the public mind as to turn it
in overwhelming force against the curse of slavery.
We are all familiar with the protracted struggle,
endangering the life of the Republic, and the final victory
of justice. He was also among the first intrepid cham-
pions of the emancipation of woman, incessantly vindi-
cating the rights of the fair sex, to liberate the better
half of mankind from the despotism of the " lord and
master," and the drudgery of a degrading thraldom.
This one of his life's aims is not yet accomplished, but
will be in the progress of a more humane civilization.
Karl Heinzen was also the first socialistic thinker
who lucidly demonstrated the perversity of the ruling
economical system. In his pamphlet (translated into
English) Communism and Socialism, he not only
refuted the untenable doctrines and vagaries of the
communistic demagogues, but proposed a reform so
454
THE OPEN COURT.
simple and easily feasible in a real democracy, that all
later efforts of the Georges and the like, are mere far-
thing candles in comparison with the flood of light he
threw on the subject by original investigations so thor-
ough-going that hardly anything in the form of
improvement can be added to the all-absorbing problem,
which must ere long find its realization, if utter ruin of
existing economical conditions and anarchistical troubles
are to be avoided.
Heinzen was the head and leader of the German
Radicals, whose comprehensive programme, embracing
all possible ameliorations as far as human nature per-
mits, includes among the improvements of most urgent
necessity in a genuine democracy : The abolition of the
presidency (royalty in disguise), and of the utterly super-
fluous, reactionary house of the Senate, as the sources
of all unrepublican drawbacks of a truly representative
government of the people. For a quarter of a century
he was unremittingly engaged in discussing, elucidating
and recommending such improvements which are neces-
sary to fulfill the promises of the Declaration of Inde-
pendence, the only Magna Charta of human rights, the
unsurpassable gospel of freedom.
Every issue of his weekly political catechism, The
Pioneer, bears testimony as well to his unique ingenuity,
as to his peerless investigations of the means and ways
best adapted to bring about an ideal realization of human
happiness as far as human nature is capable of.
Besides The Pioneer, involving a vast amount of
labor and scrupulous research in collecting all the most
interesting data of scientific discoveries and investiga-
tions of convincing power, and wherein he had hardly
any assistance, he found leisure time enough to deliver
and to publish a great number of instructive lectures in
divers cities of the Union. The most important of these
lectures and treatises are collected in two volumes,
entitled, Radicalism in America, gems of discussions
and gold mines of ingenious thoughts and propositions.
If he hated and dispised anything more than priest-
craft and despots, against whom he declared any weapon
justifiable, it is the muddy -headed rabble who caused the
employment of bullets and dynamite in a republic,
instead of the all-effective weapons of the ballot, if
properly used and as it is guaranteed by the Constitution.
It is to be regretttd that his numerous writings are
accessible to so few Americans, because they are pub-
lished in German and only a limited number has been
translated into English.*
Many generations to come will have to draw from
* Among the hitter may be had, at a liberal price, at the Freidenker Pub-
lishing Co.'s office, 470 E. Water St., Milwaukee, the following: Six Letters to
a Pius Man ; The True Character of Humboldt ; Lessons of a Century ,' What
is Humanity f What is Real Democracy ? The Germans anil the Americans ;
Mankind the Criminal (This one seems to be out of print, but may be procured
before long) J Communism and Socialism. Among those collected in two vol-
umes are pearls of wisdom, like : Public Opinion ; M ho and What is the People ?
Has the World a Purpose f Truth ,' The Future, etc.
these inexhaustible sources of instruction if they in
earnest intend to inaugurate a human society on a basis
truly humane.
A NEW THEORY OF MONISM.
BY REV. WILLIAM I. GILL, A.M.
An excellent editorial article on " Monism and Monis-
tic Thinkers" appeared in The Open Court of August
iS which well set forth a summary of all monistic theo-
ries which have gained reputation and standing. There
is at least one other theory yet possible, and that other I
would like to present to the readers of The Open
Court. In the article referred to Mr. Underwood
says of these theories, " that any one of them contains
the entire truth is extremely unlikely; that they all con-
tain certain aspects or hints of the truth which, fused
into a synthesis with errors eliminated, would afford a
better explanation of phenomena than any of them
singly can is reasonably certain." I think the theory I
have to propound will promote this " fusion of truth
and elimination of error."
This theory begins with sense and reduces all its
known objects to subjective states. Here it is at one
with all theories of psychological Monism and with
nearly all modern investigators in psychology. This,
when understood, reduces all the known and knowable
universe to a logical and metaphysical unity. Every-
thing whatsoever that is known or can be known is a
mode of consciousness. All beyond this is unknown.
If there is anything beyond this in the universe it is the
inferred cause of this. So far all Monists are agieed;
and that there is something beyond this they are also
agreed. Some affirm that this cause is intrinsically
unknowable, except as the great undifferentiated source
of all the known. These are called agnostics.
It is just here that the new theory of Monism
switches off, or, rather, keeps right on the broad, clear
track of cognizance, instead of entering on the unknown.
It affirms that the immediate cause and source of phe-
nomena are knowable, and that directly, and that it is
definable, as clearly as any ultimate thought or reality
is definable.
Now, let us clearly understand wherein all Monists
are agreed. The)' are agreed that we know phenomena
as such, and that all phenomena are modes of conscious-
ness, modes of thought, subjective states. Now, a sub-
jective state is the state of a subject, and so we know
what is a subject so far as we know what is a subjective
state. A subject is that which feels or is conscious of
these states. It is that which thinks and feels. It is
true we know this only relative to thought and feeling —
just because it is relative or related to thought and feel-
ing; and only for that fundamental reason it can never
be known otherwise. We know it just as absolutely as
we know the phenomena, which we know only as
THE OR EN COURT.
455
related to a subject. Thought is conceivable only in
relation to a thinker, and the thinker is known only in
relation to thought. We know one term just exactly
the same as we know the other. To call one the known
and the other the unknown is illogical.
We therefore know the conscious subject as a power
to think and feel and will. This is as far as we can go.
It is the pole of being and existence. There is no
beyond, real, possible or conceivable. This is the
logical and metaphysical ultima TIiulc — a power to
think, feel and act. A power is substance; the only
substance and reality. As the subject and its phenomena
are one, so all phenomena are force and substance, the
various modes in which force or substance exists and
operates. Hence all known and knowable phenomena,
force or substance are ego, one's own individual reality;
and the substantive power which consitutes this ego is
self — manifested in these phenomena. These phenomena
are of two classes, the sensible and the supersensible.
The sensible constitute what is called the material uni-
verse, which is simply a complexus of sensations. The
supersensible constitute all other actions and affections
of the ego. Thus all the known and knowable, the
whole universe of phenomena and its noumenal source,
constitute the ego and its modes, which modes are, of
course, the ego itself so-and-so existing and acting; and
they are what they are because the ego is of such a
nature or kind of force as to produce them necessarily
and in lexical order and relation to each other. Matter
is but the sense — mode of mind, and mind is simply
thinking power, which is the ultimate unit of all things.
This power evolves the universe, including all organic
forms. It therefore existed before the organism, and
will survive it; but, as one of its temporary and complex
modes, there is an organic ego, which depends on a sen-
sible environment. The organism is only a subjective
state, and implies a subject which is not organic, and
this subject of all phenomena, including all the universe,
is what we call ourselves, or the ego.
Here we have a perfect scientific and philosophical
unity which is ultimate and all-comprehending. It
comprises all that our modern Monists include in God
and the universe. It is the Pan of science and philos-
ophy. It is the infinite substance of Spinoza, with its
two great complex modes of thought and extension. It
is the God as well as the universe of Goethe as defined
by him when he says, as quoted by the editor in The
Open Court: "Alas for the creed whose God lives
outside of the universe, and lets it spin round his finger.
The universal spirit dwells within and not without."
All this universe and its informing spirit, called God, is
our ego, the conscious individual subject. " The sum
total of nature's capacities and powers" knowable to
any man, " from everlasting to everlasting," are the man
himself and no more or less.
It will be conceded that there is more than one indi-
vidual; but, since all that is directly known is ego, it is
a serious question how we can prove the existence of
anything else. The new theory achieves this by a scien-
tific induction, the method of which cannot here be
given or indicated. This accomplished, it has demon-
strated that there is an indefinite number of universes
with their informing spirit, each finite and all of them
together finite. This indefinite multiplication of uni-
verses, with all their glories and intrinsic force, consti-
tutes an immense elevation and enlargement of the
conception of Being.
But how are these egoistic universes related to each
other? There cannot be a natural law of interaction
between them, since all known and scientific relations of
cause and effect are confined to the mutual interaction of
the modes of each universe. The lexical relation of
egos or universes, therefore, can only be explained by
reference to a power which comprehends and controls
all, and who has determined that they shall be so con-
stituted that they will always act and be affected accord-
ing to their varying relations to each other. Thus the
God of this new Monism is " outside of the universe,"
because he is outside of each individual finite agent, and
is infinitely greater than each and all of them together.
" Inside" and "outside" are indeed relevant only to the
sensible phenomena of each finite being. These only
occupy space. Man, the real total man, does not
occupy space, but constitute space and all extension; and
he does not dwell jn the universe, but the universe in
him as a part of his own energy and activity. To Deitv
there is no space, no " within " or " without," simply
because he has not our sense constitution, which implies
finity.
Whether God is a " person " is a question which
should be answered only after we have agreed on the
meaning we attach to the word person. If by person
we mean, not an organic form or any form for the
imagination, but simply a power of self-conscious intelli-
gence, then we shall have to call God a person. We
directly know nothing but conscious modes, and it is
only in the light of them that we can conceive God,
God must be intelligent and know himself as intelligent,
and this is our definition of personality.
TH. RIBOT ON WILL.
IiY DR. P. CARUS.
The problem of the will must be explained from
the principle of evolution. The question is, how will
developes from its lower to its higher forms. Ribot
approaches the subject not as did his predecessors by
discussing the evolution of will, but by studying its dis-
solution.
The diseases of the will serve as instances in which
certain agencies of the will-power fail to work, and the
456
THE OPEN COURT.
ingenious psychologist uses them successfully instead of
experiments.
Ribot shows that in every voluntary act two dis-
tinct elements can be discerned : ( I ) The consciousness
of willing, or the mental state which is expressed by
the " I will," and which of itself possesses no efficacy;
and (2) a highly complex psycho-physiological mech-
anism, in which alone the power of acting or inhibiting
action has its seat. This mechanism again works two-
fold: (1) As impulsion, and (2) as inhibition. Its
result is activity, which thus is not a beginning but an
end, not a first appearance but a sequel.
The activity of the new-born babe is purely reflex.
A higher stage may be observed in children and sav-
ages when desire, almost like a reflex action, tends
directly and irresistibly to express itself in acts. It
marks a progress from the first stage inasmuch as it
denotes a beginning of individuality, for desire sketches
in faint outline the individual character. When a suffi-
cient store of experience exists to allow of the birth of
intelligence, there appears a new form of activity; viz.
ideo- motor activity. Thoughts become the cause of
movements.
There are three groups of ideas the tendency of
which to transform themselves into acts is (1) strong,
(2) moderate and (3) weak, or in a certain sense zero.
The first group are intellectual states of high intensity,
fixed ideas that " come home to us." It may happen
that the idea of a movement is of itself incapable of
producing that movement; but let emotion be added
and it is produced. Most of the passions when they
rise above the level of mere appetite are to be referred
to this group. The second group represents rational
activity; it is that of the will proper. Here the thought
is followed by the act after a longer or shorter delibera-
tion. The third group are abstract ideas (generaliza-
tions ). These ideas being representations of represent-
ations, the motor element is at a minimum. If an
abstract idea becomes a motive to action, other elements,
it is most probable, are added to it. So voluntary activity
proceeds in its development from simple reflex action
where the tendency to movement is irresistible, to the
abstract idea where it is minimized.
Will may be defined as a conscious act more or less
deliberate having in view an end. Maudsley and Lewes
define it to be "impulse by ideas," but it is more; it is
also a power to arrest action. It is (1) a power of
impulse, and (2) a power of i?iliibition.
We have good reason to believe that some special
nerves exercise the function of inhibition.
The simplest instance of the phenomenon of inhibi-
tion in the nervous system is seen in the suspension of
the movements of the heart by excitation of the pneu-
mogastric nerve. We know that the heart (independ-
ently of the intracardiac ganglia) is innervated by nerve
filaments coming from the great sympathetic which
accelerates it pulsations, and also by filaments from the
vagus nerve. If the latter is cut, the cardiac move-
ments increase; excitation of its central terminus on the
contrary suspends them for a longer or shorter time.
The vagus therefore is an inhibiting nerve.
In all voluntary inhibition two things have to be
considered : the mechanism that produces it, and the
state of consciousness that accompanies it. We volun-
tarily arrest laughter, yawning, coughing and certain
passionate movements, bv putting in action the antago-
nistic muscles. Such inhibition is far from being the
rule. Some individuals appear to be utterly incapable
of it. Others exercise it, but very unequally. Few
men are at all times masters of themselves.
All education is based on inhibition. How do we
arrest the movements of anger in a child? By threats,
by reprimands, that is to say, by producing a new state
of consciousness of a depressing kind, capable of check-
ing action. If inhibition is repeatedly produced, the
result is that an association tends to be formed between
the two states. The first calls forth the second, its cor-
rective, and from habit inhibition becomes more and
more easy and rapid.
The origin of will is based upon the property of
reacting possessed by all living matter. The voluntary
act in its complete form is not merely the transformation
of a state of consciousness into movement, but it pre-
supposes the participation of the whole group of con-
scious and sub-conscious states which make up the ego at
a given moment.
Volition is a passing to action ; it closes the debate
which took place among the different motives. A new
state of consciousness, the motive chosen, is imported
into the ego as an integral part of it.
The diseases of the will indicate that will is either
impaired or abolished. There may be impairment of
the will (1) from lack of impulse, which is designated
by the term aboulia (lack of will), and (2) from excess
of impulse, which is caused by a weakness or absence
of the power of inhibition.
As instances of the first group, Ribot cites cases of
irresolution and apathy in which all other conditions are
normal; the muscular system as well as the intelligence
remain intact. Ends are clearly apprehended, means
likewise, but passing to action is impossible.
"A magistrate," Mr. Ribot quotes from Esquirol
(I, 420), " highly distinguished for his learning and his
power as a speaker, was seized with an attack of mono-
mania in consequence of certain troubles of mind. He
regained his reason entirely but would not attend to his
business, though he well knew that it suffered in conse-
quence of this whim. His conversation was both
rational and sprightly. When advised to travel or to
attend to his affairs he would answer: lI know that I
TUB OPBN COURT.
457
should, but I am unable to do it. Your advice is very
good; I wish I could follow it.' 'It is certain,' he
said to me one day, ' that I have no will save not to
will, for I have my reason unimpaired, and I know
what I ought to do, but strength fails me when I should
act.' "
Prof. T- H. Bennett records the case of a gentle-
man who frequently could not carry out what he wished
to perform. Often on endeavoring to undress he waited
two hours before he could take off his coat. All his
mental faculties were perfect, only his volition was im-
paired. On one occasion, having ordered a glass of
water, it was presented to him on a tray but he could
not take it, though anxious to do so. He kept the serv-
ant standing before him half an hour, when the obstruc-
tion was overcome. He describes his feelings to be "as
if another person had taken possession of his will."
Aboulia appears in different forms, according to the
causes which paralyze the will. A curious kind of
aboulia is Platzangst or agoraphobia, a case of which,
as observed by Westphal, may serve as typical : "A
traveler of strong constitution, perfectly sound of mind
and presenting no disorder of the motor faculty, is sud-
denly seized with a feeling of alarm at the sight of an
open space, as a public square. When about to cross
one of the large squares of Berlin, he fancies the dis-
tance to be several miles, and despairs of ever reaching
the other side. This feeling grows less or disappears if
he goes around the square, following the line of houses,
also if he has some person with him or even if he sup-
ports himself on a walking cane."
Other instances of aboulia are melancholia, stupor,
irresolution and griibelsucht. The latter, being a con-
stant " psvchological rumination," as Legrand du Saulle
expresses it, consists of a state of continual hesitation for
the most trivial reasons without the ability to reach any
definite results. M. du Saulle describes a patient of
this kind. "A very intelligent woman could not go
into the street but she would continually ask herself: ' Is
some one going to jump out of a window and fall at my
feet? Will it be a man or a woman? Will the person
be wounded or killed? If wounded, will it be in the
head or the legs? Will there be blood on the pave-
ment? Shall I call for assistance, or run away, or recite
a prayer? Shall I be accused of being the cause of this
occurrence? Will my innocence be admitted?' " And
this questioning goes on without end.
The perplexity of such a morbid state of mind
expresses itself also in acts. The patient does not
attempt anything without endless precautions. If he
has written a letter he reads it over and over again for
fear he should have forgotten a word or committed
some mistake in spelling. If he locks a drawer he must
make sure again and again that it was done aright. It
is the same as to his dwelling; he has to satisfy himself
repeatedly as to the doors being locked, the keys in his
pocket, the state of his pocket, etc.
If aboulia is no impairment of the motor centers, it
must be a disturbance of the incitements they receive.
The muscular effort most be distinguished from the voli-
tional, and there are two types of the volitional, of
which the one consists in overcoming languor and tim-
idity (impulsion), the other in arresting the passional
movements (inhibition). Very curious are the instances
where patients are governed by impulses often of the
strangest kind which they are unable to suppress. They
use improper language in spite of themselves or cannot
restrain themselves from doing what they abhor. There
are even homicidal and suicidal impulses of such kind.
Such impulses take hold of persons, if the subordination
of tendencies — the will — is broken in twain.
':I have seen," says Luys, " a number of patients
who repeatedly attempted suicide in the presence of
those who watched them, but they had no recollection
of the fact in their lucid state. And what proves the
unconsciousness of the mind under these conditions is
the fact that the patients often do not perceive the inef-
ficiency of the methods they employ."
Hysterical persons also furnish innumerable exam-
ples to manifest an uncontrollable tendency toward the
immediate gratification of their caprices or the satisfac-
tion of their wants. Such cases of irresistible impulses
as are unconscious, exhibit the individual reduced to the
lowest degree of activity; viz. that of pure reflex action.
The human being under these conditions is like an ani-
mal that has been decapitated, or at least deprived of its
cerebral lobes.
Ribot quotes instances of irresistible impulses which
were accompanied with consciousness, from a book by
Marc (De la folieconsideree dansses raports avec les ques-
tions medico-judiciaires). "A lady subject at times to
homicidal impulses used to request to be put under
restraint by means of a strait-waistcoat, and would let
her keeper know when the danger was past and when
she might be allowed her liberty. A chemist haunted
with similar homicidal impulses used to have his thumbs
tied together with a ribbon, and in that simple restraint
found the means of resisting the temptation. A servant
woman of irreproachable character asked her mistress
to dismiss her because she was strongly tempted to dis-
embowel the infant she took care of whenever she saw
it undressed. A victim of melancholia haunted with
the thought of suicide, arose in the night, knocked at
his brother's door and cried out to him, ' Come quick ;
suicide is pursuing me, and soon I shall be unable to
withstand it.' "
Sometimes fixed ideas of a character frivolous or
unreasonable find lodgment in the mind of a person who,
in spite of knowing that they are absurd, is powerless to
prevent them from passing into acts. There is the often
45§
THE OPEN COURT.
quoted case of an art amateur who, happening to see a
valuable painting in a museum, felt an instinctive impulse
to punch a hole through the canvas. Between acts
which are frivolous and those which are dangerous the
difference is only quantitative. The latter exhibits the
former in enlarged proportions.
How must we explain the mechanism of these dis-
organizations of the will?
In the normal state an end is chosen, approved and
attained ; that is to say, the elements of the ego, whether
all or a majority of them, concur toward attaining it.
Our states of consciousness — feelings, ideas with their
respective motor tendencies — form a consensus which
converges toward this end with more or less effort by
means of a complex mechanism made up of both impul-
sions and inhibitions. In the state of abnormal volition
either of these agencies are weak. In aboulia the powers
of impulsion are debilitated; and in cases of morbid
impulses inhibition is lacking. In this state the subor-
dination of tendencies which constitutes the will is sus-
pended. There is no consensus, but anarchy prevails,
which allows any improper impulse to be executed.
When we compare the case of aboulia with that of
irresistible impulses, we see that in the two cases will
is impaired owing to totally opposite conditions. In the
one case impulsion is wanting although the intelligence
is intact ; in the other, the power of co-ordination and of
inhibition being absent, the impulse passes into action in
purely automatic fashion.
(to be continued.)
SOME RELATIONS OF SCIENCE TO MORALITY
AND PROGRESS.
BY G. GORE, LL.D., F.R.S.
Part II.
Progress and pleasure depend upon scientific con-
ditions.
We are creatures of progress, and progress implies
imperfection, and advance toward a less imperfect
state. In consequence of natural laws we are com-
pelled to advance through error, sin and suffering
toward truth and righteousness, and we have but little
choice in the matter. Without progress, and the pain
and labor attending it, we would experience less hap-
piness. Life consists of alternations of ])ain and pleas-
ure, labor and repose — the contrast of pain heightens
pleasure and our consciousness of pleasure is propor-
tionate to the difference; a proper use of our powers
relieves pain and imparts pleasure by circulating the
fluids of our body and of our brain. Absolute monotony
of impression producing death. Much of our pleasure
results from mental development; the expansion of the
mental powers of the individual by education during
youth, and that »f the human species during successive
generations by the discovery of new knowledge, is a
source of enjoyment, and this enjoyment is one of the
causes which incite scientific men to investigate nature
and discover new truths. The happiness of most per-
sons is sufficient to make life desirable. All our pleas-
ures as well as our pains depend upon nonuniformity of
impression ; change of impression usually produces
pleasure, if our actions harmonize with natural laws,
and pain if the}' disagree with them.
Knowing by bitter experience the painful contin-
gencies of life, we constantly try to evade them, to
obtain more gratification than natural laws will allow,
we seek the enjoyment without the sacrifice; but we do
not often succeed. We constantly prefer that which is
pleasant, and ignorantly avoid self-denial, even when it
leads to greater happiness. We continually seek little
pleasures and neglect great truths; cultivating our lower
faculties and neglecting our higher ones. With most
men the greatest immediate success, the most money
and not the greatest good is the chief object of life, but
even the best of possessions is bought too dearly if
obtained at the cost of disobedience. There is little hap-
piness without labor, and the greatest pleasure is
obtained by doing the greatest good, by obeying the
second rule of righteousness, viz., " to constantly endeavor
to wisely promote the welfare of all men" and to effect
this object, knowledge is indispensable. By the discov-
ery of new truth, science assists us to obey this rule.
Knowledge yields happiness which wealth cannot pur-
chase. General happiness is best secured by conforming
to all the laws which govern us, and thus making the
best use of all our powers. " To will what God doth
will, that is the only science that gives us any rest."
Mental action is being elucidated by science.
According to scientific evidence, the various forms of
energy known as heat, light, electricity, magnetism,
chemical affinity and nervous and vital action, mani-
fested by dead and living substances, are not entities,
but conditions of the material structures in which they
occur, and the}- appear to be incapable of existing inde-
pendently of those bodies. While also energy appears
to possess the attribute of endless existence, the various
forms of it known as individual forces are constantly
changing into each other. The chemical energy
exerted during the combustion of a pound of coal, when
converted into mechanical power, is capable of lifting
a pound weight twenty-three hundred miles. As scien-
tific knowledge has largely enabled us to solve the
question of the abstract existence of these modes of
activity, so is it gradually assisting us to decide whether
mental action is capable of existing independently of
material substances, and whether it is thus fundamentally
different from all other forms of energy. If mind is not
a condition of brain, but is capable of separate and
independent existence, the question arises, what becomes
THE OPEN COURT.
459
of it during a state of perfect sleep or unconsciousness —
when all mental action ceases?
Scientific basis of advance in civilization.
According to the usual properties of organized tissue,
when the human body dies, the brain decays and the
impressions existing upon it perish, and thus every
generation of men requires to be educated anew, and
man has to wade through countless ages of error in a
gradual progress toward truth, each generation advanc-
ing only a little. All things, whether painful or pleas-
ant, work together for universal advance. Civilization
progresses by means of new knowledge; discoverers,
inventors and thinkers advance, and expositors sustain
the intellectual and moral condition of mankind. With-
out new knowledge there would be no progress. Igno-
rance is the great impeding influence. Intelligent per-
sons constitute the advancing, and ignorant ones the
retarding section of our race. The different parts of
the community must all advance together, because igno-
rance and intelligence rarely agree. Persons who are
too ignorant to improve, deteriorate and die out, and
those who are too advanced in knowledge are restrained.
The ignorant American aborigines have disappeared in
the presence of civilized Europeans.
The rate of progress depends upon scientific condi-
tions.
There must be a speed of growth of knowledge and
morality, both of the individual and of the species, a
rate of human progress, and it depends essentially upon
the scientific fact that every action in a material substance
requires time; nervous impulse travels at a rate of about
sixty metres a second; even thought is not instantaneous;
the fcrrmation of a simple notion requires about i-25th
of a second ; it takes time to form ideas, much time to
indoctrinate a generation with new truths, and greater
time to eradicate old errors. The discovery of new
knowledge also is a very difficult and tedious process.
The rate of progress of morality and civilization is a
product of the opposing influences of intelligence and
ignorance, and is limited by our cerebral capacities.
Ignorance operates as a moderator of speed. All
improvements require time.
Our advance appears to be very slow, and it is only
by a survey of the past that we can at all realize the
progress we have made, or how largely we are indebted
to new knowledge for our present degree of comfort
and happiness. Five hundred years ago we were with-
out what we now consider to be many of the necessa-
ries of life. We consumed neither tea, coffee, cocoa,
potatoes or tobacco, and sugar was a luxury purchased
only by the rich ; without these even the poorest persons
would now consider themselves unable to live. But few
medicines had been discovered ; pharmacy was very
imperfect; the arts of medicine and surgery were not
much developed; chloroform and quinine had not been
found; sanitary appliances were not invented; chlorine,
disinfectants, deodorizers and antiseptics were unknown,
and we were subject to epidemics and plagues. In con-
sequence, also, of there being no telegraph, or quick
means of conveyance, multitudes of persons were starved
during famines before food could be obtained. No
longer ago than the year 1S71, through one of these
causes, thousands of persons were starving in Persia,
while in some of the Western States of America corn
was being burned in stoves in place of coal. (Scientific
American, Jamnry, 1S72.) Being without books or
newspapers our intellectual enjoyments were few, and
ignorance, with all its evil consequences of immorality,
etc., was prevalent. In those "good old times" the
weak were robbed and oppressed by the strong, crime
was rarely punished, and men lived more like the beasts
in the field. Ever since that period knowledge has con-
tinually increased; it still continues to grow, and every
year it adds to our material comforts, our mental enjoy-
ments and our ability to act aright.*
ARE WE PRODUCTS OF MIND?
BY EDMUND MONTGOMERY, M.D.
Part II.
This is the essential point on which Professor Cope
and myself are agreed. We both hold that all really
organic structures have been and are being built up by
hyper-mechanical means, and that their vital functions
are a display of hyper-mechanical energies. But con-
cerning the nature of the powers or influences that are
at work in this organizing process and in this functional
activity, we are radically at variance. Professor Cope
believes, as already stated, that consciousness — which he
is now inclined to restrict more particularly to conscious
will — is the specific influence which has originated and
is still originating organic structures and functions; and
that it manages to accomplish this by consciously deflect-
ing material particles and their motion from the
mechanically prescribed path ; coercing them into the
specific combinations which we call organic, and impart-
ing to them the specific modes of motion which we call
vital.
To sustain this bold assertion amid all the given facts
of organic nature, various ingenious and rather doubt-
ful assumptions are required. Notwithstanding, it
must be confessed that Professor Cope has not only
been very consistent in his reasoning, but has also mostly
supported it by more or less plausible analogies to
established scientific facts. At present, however, we are
* In the thirteenth century we knew nothing of foreign wines, foods or
fruits, watches, clocks, steel pens, bank notes, ch cks, money orders, the postal
system, police, telegraphs, paved streets, macadamized roads, stage coaches,
cabs, omnibuses, tramways, railways, canals, steam engines, steamships, gas
lighting, electric light, electroplating, photography, tricycles, sewing machines,
pianos, silk, alpaca, wool, soap, coal tar dyes, artificial manures, phosphorus
matches, petroleum lamps, german silver, agricultural machinery, articles of
gutta-percha and India rubber, etc., and many other conveniences. With-
out new knowledge we could never have acquired our present advantages.
460
THE OPEN COURT.
concerned only with the refutation of his fundamental
assumption, and, though highly tempting, we must
refrain from entering upon questions specifically bio-
logical.
The supposition that conscious energy inherent in
matter has originated vitality and organization, leads
unavoidably to the inference that the highest kind of
consciousness resides in the least organized matter.
Consequently, what we call progressive organization
can be really only a more and more elaborate excre-
tional product, from which consciousness has more or
less withdrawn — nothing but " a dead derivative pro-
duct," as Professor Cope himself expresses it. Evolu-
tion, and its accompanying specializations, are in this
light essentially processes of deterioration, and not of
elevation. The most perfect state of things exists then
beyond and before all organization. For the supreme
mind has a wholly unorganized body, consisting proba-
bly of intersteller ether. And this least specialized of
all substances must evidently be the creative matrix of
everything in existence, containing potentially every
kind of matter and every kind of energy, and being
moreover endowed with the highest potency of mind or
consciousness.
Carried along by the irresistable drift of his funda-
mental assumption, that mind can control matter,
Professor Cope, the zealous student of organic nature
and evolutionist far excellence, feels compelled to teach,
that "all forms of energy have originated in the process
of running-down from the primitive energy" (O. of F., p.
433); that all forms of matter have originated in the
process of running-down from the primitive matter;
that all forms of consciousness have originated in the
process of running-down from the primitive conscious-
ness. And it is this primitive consciousness which
has constructed all material forms, and created all special
modes of energy. Consequently, we ourselves, all in
all, are mere mental excretions.
These strange logical outcomes, reversing as they do
the actual order of manifest nature, are in my judg-
ment a sufficient reductio ad absurdum of the entire
position. And we need only examine Professor Cope's
own attempt at elucidation, to become distinctly aware
of the unsurmountable difficulty, which stands in the
way of deriving the slowly progressive evolution of body
and mind actually manifest in nature from the " running-
down " of a supremely elevated state of matter and
mind, imagined to subsist somewhere beyond actually
manifest nature. The direct influence of the supreme
conscious will must have, under these suppositions,
itself originated the lowest material combination in
which individual conscious will became incorpo-
rate. This primitive individual will Professor Cope
himself admits to have been of a most undeveloped
kind. lie says: " As development of will has elevated
the human mind from its humble beginnings we
naturally look to the same source for further pro-
gress." Now, Professor Cope, and with him all
those who believe in the power of pure mental volition
to effect progressive evolution, are here logically forced
to maintain one of the two possible outcomes of the rela-
tion alleged to subsist between a supreme mind and the
individual minds. The first of these alternatives is sub-
versive of Professor Cope's theology ; the second of his
science.
If, namely, the most primitive individual mind or
will has itself gradually developed the higher individual
mind or will; if it was really thus possible in nature for
something lower to bring about the development of
something higher, then there was no need whatever for
a highest something to give a first start to this evolu-
tional process, which must have begun at the lowest
possible point in the scale of development. The assump-
tion of a supreme mind or will would be here altogether
superfluous.
Or if, on the contrary, inferior individual mind or
will cannot of itself give rise to superior individual mind
or will, then progressive evolution must have been all
along effected, not at all by individual will, but by a
constant influx of the supreme will. It would then be
this supreme will alone that, degrading itself at first to
the lowest depth by originating meanest states of being,
was now keeping going the entire irksome process of
development for its own particular divertisement, while
our proud human conceit of self-willed and self-effected
progress would, under such conditions, turn out to be a
most pitiful delusion.
It is to the latter and strangest of these alternatives
that Professor Cope's premises really lead. But how-
ever strange and anti-natural such ultra-theological con-
clusions may appear I repeat that if it is true that mind
coerces matter, superintending its grouping and direct-
ing its motion, then these very conclusions are not only
legitimate but irrefutable, and they will have, therefore,
to be accepted as the only veritable and solid "scientific
basis for ethics and religion." It is on this account that a
serious examination of the fundamental assumption of
this creed — the assumption, namely, that consciousness
or will can move matter — is called for in The Open
Court.
Who can seriously deny that we and other living
creatures have a body and are conscious, and that these
two modes of existence differ essentially from each
other? Here lies dead the bodily frame of a dog. Not
Ions' agro the wagging of his tail and his affectionate
pranks left no doubt whatever that the devoted creature
was conscious, and now it is just as certain that con-
sciousness is no longer present; that it has somehow
vanished from out the lifeless form. Idealists as well as
materialists are forced to concede that consciousness and
THE OPEN COURT.
461
the bodily structure are not one and the same thing;
that they are indeed two very different modes of
existence.
Now, if consciousness or will can and does actually
move any part of our bod}-, Professor Cope may well
defy whomsoever to overturn his conclusions. The
Theology of Evolution, with all its implications, will
then have to be adopted as our final religion.
Of such paramount import is this question of the
relation of mind and body. It is no wonder, therefore,
that it has become the central problem of modern phi-
losophy, and it is clear that all ethical and religious
speculations must remain vague and inconclusive so long
as it is not positively settled. Do not all prevailing
creeds derive their character and gain their influence
through an accepted faith in some special kind of
relation of mind or spirit to body and to nature in gen-
eral? And do not almost all religions teach that mind
controls body ?
THE POETS OF LIBERTY AND LABOR.
BY WHEELBARROW.
THOMAS HOOD.
How like a bonny bird of God he came,
And poured his heart in music for the pcor;
And trampled manhood heard, and claimed his crown,
And trampled womanhood sprang up ennobled !
The world may never know the wealth it lost,
When Hood went darkling to his tearful tomb.
Gerald Masse y.
There are some hearts born into this world that
never die. Like the great ocean, they encircle all
humanity, and throb forever. Upon them trampled
manhood and trampled womanhood fling themselves for
comfort when tired and sorrow-laden. There the laborer
finds rest, and there he picks up new courage to help
him in the battle for bread. Among those immortals
Thomas Hood stands " crowned and glorified." Upon
his breast labor lays her troubles and her wrongs. Out
of his bosom comes an inspiration that shall some day
give the toilers victory.
Those thoughts came to me this morning, as I was
reading an account of the proceedings of the "Trades
Assembly," which met last Sunday at No. 57 North
Clark street. I cannot exactly account for it, but some-
how or other, on reading Mr. McLogan's description of
the workingwomen, I turned instinctively to Thomas
Hood, for spiritual strength. I turned for consolation
to the inspired writings of the prophet who sang "The
Song of the Shirt;" and again I heard him say —
Oh, men, with Sisters dear!
Oh, men, with Mothers and Wives !
It is not linen you're wearing out,
But human creatures's lives.
I have still a hope that Mr. McLogan was mis-
informed, and that it is not true that " whole families
have to work eleven hours a day to earn twelve dollars
a week." I trust that Mr. Foley was in error when he
said that " the average wages of women in Chicago
shops and factories was only 60 cents a day." If those
statements are true, they reveal a profligate condition of
society, and the end is easy to foresee. That society
can not stand. It is built on the shifty sands of in-
equality' and injustice, where no government has ever
yet been safe in this world. This condition will breed a
social gloom, out of which we shall see growing a
funnel-shaped cloud reaching from earth to heaven.
We shall hear the roar of a whirlwind that will shake
our political inheritance to its foundations, and perhaps
destroy it.
I don't know much about poetry ; of the great poets
nothing at all. I cannot understand them for lack of
education. I can only interpret those poets that under-
stand me, and there is not a line in Thomas Hood that
I cannot comprehend. Many of his verses seem woven
of threads drawn from my own life and experience,
and I almost fancy that I wrote them. How glorious it
is to know something! What a splendid thing is learn-
ing! In my sorest poverty I never envy a man riches,
but I have always been jealous of his better education.
When I was a youth I had a job of work at Cambridge,
in England. Here were colleges all around me. In
this one Milton studied; in that one Byron; in that
other one Newton trained his mighty mind. Those
colleges were all castles fortified against me. I used to
look up at the walls as I passed by them, and long to
get inside, that I might feed on the learning that had
developed those mighty men. I used to look at the
young fellows there of my own age, students of the
university, with an envy that I have never felt in all my
life toward any others of my brother men. As they
passed me clad in their uniforms of cap and gown, I
hated them with jealousy. In a fool's vanity I some-
times think, even now, that perhaps I might have been
somebody if I could have had a chance at schooling in
my youth. But at thirteen I entered the ranks of
slavery, and there was no more school for me. Per-
haps it is because I cannot understand the great poets,
that I cherish with stronger affection those who have
come down to my own level, and woven my own sor-
rows into song. It may be that this is why I cherish
Thomas Hood.
Statements like those of the Trades Assembly,
revealing the slave-condition of the needle-women ot
London, brought from the soul of Thomas Hood that
indignant protest known as "The Song of the Shirt."
It startled men out of their guilty ease. It rang across
the land, filling England with alarm, as though the
archangel's trumphet was calling Dives to judgment.
Every man tried to shift the sin upon his neighbor and
in affected anger inquired, Who has been starving the
462
THE OPEN COURT.
women of England? Out of the rhyme of Thomas
Hood came back the answer to every monopolist,
"Thou art the man." There was discomfort in the
mahogany pews, for, drowning the preacher's voice and
the roar of the great organ, was heard the shrill wail of
the hungry seamstress :
It's oh! to be a slave,
Along with the barbarous Turk,
Where woman has never a soul to save,
If this is Christian work.
*****
With fingers weary and worn,
With eyelids heavy and red,
A woman sat in unwomanly rags,
Plving her needle and thread —
Stitch, stitch, stitch,
In poverty, hunger and dirt.
And still with a voice of dolorous pitch, —
Would that it's tone could reach the rich, —
She sang this song of the shirt.
In did reach the rich, and they tried to buy peace
for their consciences that winter by copious giving of
alms, but above all that, the voice of Labor cried like a
storm, " We want not charity but justice."
It is difficult to say which had the greater influence
upon the heart of England, the "Song of the Shirt," or
"The Bridge of Sighs." One was really the comple-
ment of the other. Together they smote the adaman-
tine social system like the rod of Moses on the rock of
Horeb, and the waters of healing gushed forth. There
was a stupid alderman of London, Sir Peter Laurie —
Dickens has satirized him in " The Chimes" — whose
mission it was to "put down" suicide, and whenever any
of the girls who jumped into the river from Waterloo
Bridge, were rescued by the boats, and brought before
him, he punished them by sending them to prison.
" I am determined to put down suicide," he used
to say ; but he never thought of putting down the
social crime that made the suicide. Nor did English
public sentiment. It was thick and stolid as the head
of Sir Peter Laurie. Newspapers moralizing could
not arouse it, neither could the passionate denunciations
of orators and statesmen. Then came the poet, and
awakened it to a higher sense of duty, and to wiser
plans of charity. Hood's poem appeared, and a new
light shone upon the bridge. By the gleam of it
"society" could see itself pushing the girls into the
river, and in self-accusation said: " Sir Peter, you ought
to send us to prison, and not the girls." A more humane
feeling was created, which shaped itself into schemes of
social amelioration, and into better laws. There was no
more talk of "putting down" suicide by sending girls
to prison. And ever after that, when some homeless and
forsaken wanderer sought rest in the dark waters, there
was no harsh condemnation, but men said with genuine
sorrow —
One more unfortunate,
Weary of breath,
Rashly importunate,
Goneto her death.
Take her up tenderly,
Lift her with care,
Fashioned so slenderly,
Young and so fair.
* * *
Make no deep scrutiny
Into her mutiny,
Rash and undutiful ;
Past all dishonor,
Death has left on her
Only the beautiful.
There was not a man of healthy morals, in all the
town of London, who was not awakened by the elo-
quent reproach of the poet, a reproach memorable now
throughout all the English world, familiar in Melbourne
and Chicago, as in England —
Alas! for the rarity
Of Christian charity
Under the sun!
Oh! it was pitiful!
Near a whole city full
Home she had none.
And every libertine was smitten with disgrace and
terror when he read —
In she plunged boldly,
No matter how coldly,
The rough river ran, —
Over the brink of it,
Picture it — think of it
Dissolute Man !
Lave in it, drink of it
Then, if you can !
To hammer philosophy into shapes of beauty is the
calling of the poet. What a grand workman was
Hood! What melodies rang out from his anvil, and
what sparks from his hammer flew! What chaste and
lovely forms he made! Every one of his creations
ministered unto virtue, and none of them could be used
to decorate a wrong. Like Burns, he lifted labor up,
and left it a step higher than he found it. His humor
was an overflowing well, so copious that some men used
to think there could not be any room in him for greater
poetry. And yet his wit and humor, so delightful, and
so pure, were but the framework to poetic jewels worthy
to shine in the coronet of Shakespeare.
Certes, the world did praise his glorious wit,
The merry jester with his cap and bells!
And sooth his wit was like Ithuriel's spear:
But 'twas mere lightning from the cloud of his life,
Which held at heart most rich and blessed rain.
There was an abundant English market for cant
when Hood was in his prime; but though poor, and
troubled, and sick, he would not pander to Mammon,
either in church or state, and so the rich rewards of
THE OPEN COURT.
463
soul-servility passed him by. But the poet kept his
gift, unsullied by hypocrisy or bribe. As he would not
flatter the popular beliefs, bigotry assailed him. One
prominent reviewer, Rae Wilson, Esq., criticised his
poems as having an irreligious tendency, and Hood's
replv left Mr. Wilson looking like a scarecrow. Such
banter, and comedy, and fun, have rarely been united to
overwhelm an assailant as they are in the "Ode to Rae
Wilson." Seldom has the uncharitable character of
self-assumed piety been so vividly exposed as in that
ode. I know nothing superior to it, except "Holy
Willie's Prayer." It is full of gems like this:
Spontaneously to God should tend the soul,
Like the magnetic needle to the pole ;
But what were that intrinsic value worth,
Suppose some fellow with more zeal than knowledge,
Fresh from St. Andrew's College,
Should nail the conscious needle to the North?
Mr. Wilson was of St. Andrew's, and Hood con-
tinues thus:
I will not own a notion so unholy,
As thinking that the rich by easy trips
May go to heaven, whereas the poor and lowly,
Must work their passage, as they do in ships.
One place there is — beneath the burial sod,
Where all mankind are equalized by death;
Another place there is — the Fane of God,
Where all are equal who draw living breath.
He who can stand within that holy door,
With soul unbowed by that pure spirit-level,
And frame unequal laws for rich and poor, —
Might sit for Hell, and represent the Devil.
That lust of gold which coins the poor man's child-
ren into monev, hides its face from the scorn of Thomas
Hood. His poetic wrath scorches avarice like fire.
The laboring heart is drawn by the magnetism of his
preaching up to a healthier atmosphere, where the cur-
rents of life flow purer, and where humanity sees more
clearly the work it has to do. Not for ever shall the
greed of privileged classes rob the laborer of the profits
of his toil. Every day the workingmen are learning
something new. By and by they will know their duty
and organize their power. Then the moral force of a
great cause, backed by a voting strength invincible, will
put them in possession of their great estate. Not by
fighting, not by bombs and bullets; these are barbarism.
The labor triumphs that are coming will be moral vic-
tories, and even they must be preceded by our conquest
of ourselves. If we seek justice, we must do it; if we
demand liberty, we must grant it. The whole domain
of handicraft must be free to all the people. The right
to learn a trade must be conceded to every American
boy; and after he has learned it, the right to work at it
must not be taken from him. We have much self-
discipline to undergo yet, and the sooner we go into
moral training the better. The control of our own
appetites must come before our final victory.
THOUGHTS ON EVOLUTION.
A THEISTIC VIEW.
BY JAMES EDDY.
Some great mind above the human with power to
execute the decisions of its own divine will, must have
conceived the great principle of evolution, or constant
change in all organized existences and in the vegetable
kingdom, substance or matter forming no exception to
this great principle of gradual change in locality, and
from solid to debris, from debris to solid. The least
change seems to be in the ego or conscious identity of
mind; for each individual human being persistently
recognizes himself from his first dawnings of thought
through a long life of changes in his weight and form,
changes in views, in guiding principles, in politics, in
religion, and it is a notable fact that no man, woman or
child would change his mental constitution, his own
identity for that of another. John Brown kuows him-
self intimately, knows his own hopes, his own secret
thoughts which nobody else knows, his own enjoyments;
knows what he most loves, knows his own ego is his
own, realizes that his own existence is a precious, unique
original, unlike any other, given by God himself, for
his own special enjoyment, and neither he nor any other
man would swap his own identity for that of another
man or woman. John Brown would like a change of
conditions, and he is constantly striving to evolve himself
into better conditions. In this sense we each and all
believe in evolution, in which every man and woman
play a conspicuous part.
No man can conceive of a beginning of creation in
nature, but since evolution makes a continuous change
of form, of mind, and conditions in ourselves and in
our progeny, is not man with all other races involved in
the process of a perpetual creation. There certainly
exists in active operation on this earth a law of advance-
ment, of evolution, which implies progress in man
toward perfection ; in animals by instinct toward better
conditions and usefulness; in trees, toward more perfect
trees, etc. Since mind is the power that moves all ma-
terial things, all evolutionary changes must be affected
through the operations and activities of mind in every
grade of existence. Not quite satisfied with its present
state, there is a perpetual effort of the human mind to
exchange its present good conditions for the better, and
an exciting hope and aim to arrive finally at the best
conditions in life. Through the influences of the human
mind the domestic useful races of animals, birds, etc.,
are improved. By the exercise of human intelli-
gence also are wild fruits, shrubs and flowers made more
beautiful and perfect.
The kind intent, the benevolent purpose, of a Higher
464
THE OPEN COURT.
Power is visible in all our natural relations and pursuits.
Useless would be the nervous activities of the human
mind if no objects were furnished upon which to exer-
cise our faculties. It matters not from how humble a
point humanity originated, since we did not originate
ourselves we have no responsibility in this matter. It
was by some Divine Power we came into life. If
through a monkey race, as Darwin supposes, then with
pride we may look back and point to the fact that from
an humble beginning, through the efforts of the hitman
mind, we have evolved ourselves to be what we now
are? Our progress has been made gradually in time, by
experiences laid away in the individual mind, by the
power of memory and the ability given to every age to
draw from the great store-house af traditional and his-
torical experiences.
There are two sides to the power of evolution. Let
us not forget that the human mind is constituted with a
power of will and free agency which is its own to exer-
cise. This free will may be used, and is used as a re-
tardative ftozvcr, in the processes of the evolution of hu-
manity. Human free will is limited as compared with a
higher will power outside, but is never interfered with
so far as it goes, by any power in the universe; for it is
morally impossible it should be, by any just power
above the human, except by the reformatory bad effects
or consequences attached to errors and crimes, and the
good effects attached to wise and virtuous actions.
Evolution does not escape this power of individual and
united human will, which is often wrongfully used to
set back the advance of knowledge and general prog-
ress. We see this retardative power in bad personal
habits, in rum and tobacco, in wilful perseverence in
doing wrong when we have power to do right; in
organizing and sustaining bad governments and bad
religions, idealizing gods with a bad character, and in
doing generally all the evil that human free will and
liberty permits us to accomplish in this world.
Let us organize no government, no religion, in which
the great principle of progress or evolution toward the
better is not recognized ; and we want no evolution in
which the retardative power of human will and free
agency is not also recognized. If there were no freedom
of will and power in man to do evil, there could be no
merit attached to being virtuous, and no justice in Divine
Power in attaching good consequences to virtue, rather
than to vice. All inventions, all discoveries, all progress
in the arts, all governments, all organizations moral and
religious, in short, all evolutionary advances toward the
good or toward the bad in human affairs, are made
through the activities and freedom of the human mind
ami heart.
Articles by Colonel Iligginson, George Jacob
Holyoake, W. M. Salter and Richard A. Proctor will
soon appear in the columns of The Open Court.
The Open Court.
A. Fortnightly Journal.
Published every other Thursday at 169 to 175 La Salle Street Nixor
Building), corner Monroe Street, by
THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY
B. F. UNDERWOOD,
Editor and Manager.
SARA A. UNDERWOOD,
Associate Editor.
The leading object of The Open Court is to continue
the work of The Index, that is, to establish religion on the
basis of Science and in connection therewith it will present the
Monistic philosophy. The founder of this journal believes this
will furnish to others what it has to him, a religion which
embraces all that is true and good in the religion that was taught
in childhood to them and him.
Editorially, Monism and Agnosticism, so variously denned,
will be treated not as antagonistic systems, but as positive and
negative aspects of the one and only rational scientific philosophy,
which, the editors hold, includes elements of truth common to
all religions, without implying either the validity of theological
assumption, or any limitations of possible knowledge, except such
as the conditions of human thought impose.
The Open Court, while advocating morals and rational
religious thought on the firm basis of Science, will aim to substi-
tute for unquestioning credulity intelligent inquiry, for blind faith
rational religious views, for unreasoning bigotry a liberal spirit,
tor sectarianism a broad and generous humanitarianism. With
this end in view, this journal will submit all opinion to the crucial
test of reason, encouraging the independent discussion by able
thinkers of the great moral, religious, social and philosophical
problems which are engaging the attention of thoughtful minds
and upon the solution of which depend largely the highest inter-
ests of mankind.
While Contributors are expected to express freely their own
views, the Editors are responsible only for editorial matter.
Terms of subscription three dollars per year in advance,
postpaid to any part of the United States, and three dollars and
fifty cents to foreign countries comprised in the postal union.
All communications intended for and all business letters
relating to The Open Court should be addressed to B. F.
Underwood, Treasurer, P. O. Drawer F, Chicago, 111., to whom
should be made payable checks, postal orders and express orders.
THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 29, 1SS7.
ANARCHY AND THE ANARCHISTS.
While anarchism with its more intelligent repre-
sentatives is but a dream of an advanced social con-
dition in the distant future in which men will be able
to live, each a law unto himself, without need of the
state or government, it is, as advocated by those the
most commonly identified with it, but little more than
dissatisfaction with the existing social order, hatred
of the rich and a disposition to remove poverty and
inequalities of condition by violence.
How the killing of men who employ labor or the
destruction of their property is to bring about the
results desired, is something of which the anarchists
evidently have no very definite idea. They are
dominated more by passion than by reason, and it is
not strange that their harrangues and writings are
marked chiefly by fierce denunciations and bitter
revilings. The leaders, and indeed the adherents, are
mostly products of the despotism of the old world,
and the only methods of reform in which they
TUB OPEN COURT.
465
have any confidence, are those revolutionary methods
which are the last resort of oppressed men who
have no voice in the government of their country. Of
the milder methods suited to a country where the poor
man's vote counts as much as that of the millionare,
where the power of changing and abolishing old
laws and making new ones is in the hands of the
people, if they are but intelligent and wise enough
to use it, where there is equality of opportunity, and
the chances of success are open to all, where the
majority of the men of wealth commenced life poor,
and the highest positions and powers are enjoyed
by those who have belonged to the common ranks
of life — of the methods suited to such a country, to
secure needed changes, these anarchists seem to
have little, if any, appreciation. Many of them
doubtless have had hard experiences and they nat-
ural!}' dwell on the contrasts afforded by the condi-
tion of the miserably poor and that of the "plutoc-
racy." The capitalist they regard as the enemy of
workingmen, and the laws which protect him in the
possession of his property and the conduct of his
business, as iniquitous and diabolical. In short, the
existing social order is held to be about as bad as it
possibly can be, and the way to peace and prosper-
ity for all is believed to be through the destruction of
existing laws and institutions.
In this country society can afford to allow men
almost unlimited liberty in presenting and discuss-
ing theories, but it cannot safely allow men to advo-
cate the destruction of life and property, or to incite
others to deeds of violence. If the authorities of
this city had, months before the Haymarket meeting
was held, arrested and punished the men who advo-
cated the use of dynamite as a means of redressing
wrongs, real or imaginary, in this country, they
would have done no more than their duty, and the
terrible disaster probably never would have occurred.
By their inaction they unwittingly encouraged the
violence, and to that extent share the responsibility
for the great crime. Freedom of speech when exer-
cised in advocating murder as a means of solving
social or economic questions is a kind of freedom
which cannot be permitted in this republic while it
has among its population creatures who can be
incited to deeds of violence by such speech. Men
who resort to such irrational and savage means to
bring about social changes, must be treated as public
enemies and punished as criminals.
At the present moment the public mind is pro-
foundly agitated by the imminent fate of the seven
anarchists who are lying under sentence of death in
Chicago. Every heart that feels is touched by
their situation and that of their families. It is
impossible for those reared under complex social
conditions like ours, whose minds have not been
dwarfed and sympathies narrowed by race or relig-
ious prejudices, and whose hearts have not been
hardened by crime, to remain untouched by the sight
or contemplation of any case of distress, even when
the sufferer has brought it on himself by his crimi-
nal foil}-.
But the capacity for sorrow as well as for joy is
limited, and so many and so great are the demands
upon our pity and sympathy, that we readily forget
sad scenes and incidents of the past while we are
agitated by those of the present. Multitudes who
are — and to their credit — full of commiseration for
the anarchists who are condemned to die on the nth
of November, give little or no thought now to the
fate of the guardians of the law who were cruelly
murdered by a dynamite bomb in this city, or of the
widowhood, orphanage, and anguish caused by that
terrible tragedy. While sympathy is felt and ex-
pressed for the anarchists in their misfortune, and
for their wives and children, those who died in
defense of law and order, and their widows and
orphans should not be forgotton. To the men who
thus died a monument should be erected, and for
their families ample provision should be made by
the State.*
Security of life and property is an essential con-
dition of civilization, and it must be maintained
'against every influence that threatens it, whether it
be the savagery of the plains or the worse moral sav-
agery of Most and his followers. For its defense
laws are enacted and men appointed with authority
to enforce them. These laws express the will of the
people, and the public officers, from the policeman
to the chief magistrate of the country, are servants
of the people, appointed or elected to execute the
laws which the people through their representatives
have made. The murder of a public servant is a
crime which all good citizens should unite in pun-
ishing, and the memory of every public servant who
dies by violence in the performance of duty should
be honored as a soldier falling in defense of his
country, and his family be treated not less gener-
ously than the family of the soldier slain on the
battle-field.
Whether justice and the best interests of society
demand that the anarchists in this city who have
been sentenced to death be executed, or that their
sentence be commuted by the exercise of executive
clemency; whether even justice to them does not
demand the new trial which has been denied them
* Since this article was put in type letters and editorials have appeared in
the Chicago dailies proposing the erection of a monument lo tlte memory of the
policemen who weie killed by the bomb in Haymarket square. A desire to
commemorate the services of these men should have shown itself in the com-
mencement of this work months ago.
466
THE OPEN COURT.
by the Supreme Court of the State — these are ques-
tions on which there is a divided opinion. Most of
the large daily journals and the religious press urge
that the death penalty be enforced. Others, including
all the labor journals that have come under our notice,
a dozen or more, (which generally regard the verdict
and the decision of the Supreme Court, we are sorry to
note, as the result of class influence,) express the con-
viction that the sentence is unjust, and not a few of
them declare that its execution, if it occurs, will be
nothing less than " judicial murder." Certain it is
that there is a grave suspicion abroad, whether well
founded or not, that in the conviction of the men the
substance of the law was broken.
In the presence of a catastrophe so tremendous
as the execution of seven fellow beings, a journal
devoted to justice, to liberty, to humanity cannot
remain silent. In the mad whirl of passion where
the condemned men, so to speak, are being tossed
and flung about by friends and foes, it behooves us
to weigh well our words, and to be sure that they are
words of reason untinged by passion or prejudice.
There are State trials famous in history, not because
of their dramatic character and surroundings, nor
because of the magnitude of the crimes involved,
but because in those trials the law itself was twisted
out of moral symmetry to gratify public revenge, and
justice itself was thereby violated and the founda-
tions of liberty polluted. There are those who, with-
out the least sympathy with anarchy or its meth-
ods— who, indeed, hold them in abhorrence — yet
express grave apprehensions that if the men con-
demned to die on the nth of November are put
to death according to their sentence, their case may
be memorable also for the enormity of the trial more
even than for the enormity of the crimes charged.
We do not say that these apprehensions have just
grounds, but they exist.
In The Index of October 14, 18S6, we said
editorially:
There is no doubt whatever, we presume, that popular feeling
in Chicago against the condemned men has been and still is very
strong. This is not strange considering the brutal manner in
which the appointed guardians of peace and order were murdered,
and the conviction that these men are responsible for the crime.
The only question is whether public opinion — an element which
under any circumstances has to be taken into account — operated
to prevent a just and fair trial. This, so far as we can judge from
meagre reports, was not shown. Judge Gary, after all that could
be said in defense of the condemned anarchists, saw no reason
for granting a new trial. At the same time it is probable that
the men, most of them products of European despotism, were
infatuated with certain chimerical schemes, held under the name
of anarchy, and were working, as they believed, for social reform,
misled by the diabolical teachings of Most, that they w ere blinded
by fanaticism to the folly of their words and acts, and did not
fully consider their practical consequences. While there can be
nothing but condemnation for attempts to carry out anv social
theories by killing innocent human beings, we are of the opinion
that the authorities can aftbrd to be lenient with these criminals
and to show them that mercy which was not shown to the victims
of their misguided zeal and short-sighted scheme for revolution-
izing society. Let the death sentence be commuted to impr'son-
ment, by which the law will be sufficiently vindicated and the
unfortunate men and their sympathizers may come to see the
absurdity of their anarchistic theories and the criminal folly of
their plotlings against social order and human life It is very
doubtful whether the further efforts now being made for a new
trial prove more successful than did the motion overruled by-
Judge Gary.
Now nearly a year later, after reading carefully
the decision of the Supreme Court of the State in
the case of the anarchists, we regret that the men
have been refused a new trial. Protesting against
the irrational cruelty preached by the anarchists
when they advocated private vengeance for alleged
public wrongs and their sanguinary threats of revo-
lution, and looking at the case by the light of the
trial alone, we do not believe that all the accused
were fairly proven guilty of murder or of conspiracy
to murder. Guilty they may be, one and all, but
doubts in our mind are so strong as to the guilt
of two of the condemned men that we regret another
trial was not granted them. True, the verdict has
been affirmed by the Supreme Court of the State,
but the decisions of Supreme Courts are not infallible
and have, in many instances, been contrary to justice
and right.
A careful perusal of the decision in question will, we
believe, show that it is open to serious criticism, not
only for the manner in which certain points are pre-
sented, but also for the omission of others which
ought to have been presented. We can mention
here but a few instances. The court, after passing
judgment upon a number of objections raised by the
defense, which they consider "most important"
speaks of "some other points of minor importance
which are not noticed." "As to these," it remarks,
"it is safe to say that we have considered them and
do not regard them as well taken." When a man
condemned to die alleges certain errors in his trial,
and asks the court of last resort to pass upon them,
a refusal to do so is a wrong as plainly visible to lay-
men as to lawyer. It is a solemn thing to sentence
a fellow man to death, and, at the same time, to tell
him that points of his appeal have been considered,
and that they are not well taken. The proof that
they have been considered should appear in reasons
for rejecting them, and it is therefore the duty of the
court to show wherein they are not well taken.
The judges, in justice to the condemned men,
should have criticised, so it seems to us, not only
such points as they themselves considered "most
important," but also every point which the men whose
lives were at stake regarded as of any importance
THE OPEN COURT.
467
whatever. The decision was not the reversal of aver-
dict; it was the affirming of the sentence of death
against seven men. The defendants had an equal
right with the judge to say what errors were "impor-
tant." Considering that the court was weaving a long
rope for the hanging of seven men — weaving it out of
a confused tangle, composed of threads of evidence,
some of which, according to the decision itself, were
proper and some of them not, the statement of the
court that any further comment "would swell the
opinion, already of inordinate length, into still more
tiresome proportions" is, in our opinion, no sufficient
excuse. There are many cases involving only dollars
in which longer opinions have been written without
exhausting either the court or the readers interested
in the cases. A legal friend calls our attention to
the Mordaunt case, a mere suit for divorce, in which
the opinion is five times as long as that is in regard
to the anarchists. In the claimant case, a trial for
perjury, the opinion is ten times as long. Dividing
the opinion by seven, the number of men doomed,
the allowance for each is not large, and there seems to
be no good reason for refusing to discuss specifically
any of the alleged errors.
One of the members of the court, after the deci-
sion had been announced, said that he did "not wish
to be understood as holding that the record is free
from error," but "that none of the errors complained
of are of such a character as to require a reversal of
the judgment." "In view of the number of defend-
ants on trial" (with other facts mentioned), "the
wonderment" to him was that the errors were not
more numerous and of a more serious character.
Now one of the errors alleged is that the defendants
were refused the right to be separately tried. Mr.
Justice Mulvey, confessing errors, permits them to
prevail in the doom of seven men, on grounds
one of which and the first mentioned is that errors
were inevitable where so many men were tried
together. Was it the fault of the defendants that
eight men were tried "all in a row?" Shall the
prosecution take advantage of its own mistake, if not
its own wrong? Whether designed or not, the effect
of such a number of defendants was to throw confusion
into the jury box, and errors into the rulings and
instructions of the court below.
By trying all the men together the peril of each
one of them was multiplied, for each had to defend
himself against his own words and actions and those
of the other seven. This was not fair, and we doubt
whether it is good law in capital cases. What is Mr.
Justice Mulvey's opinion on this point ? He approves
the judgment, but condemns errors in the record and
omits to specify the errors to which he refers.
These evidently are not the minor errors confessed
in the decision itself, because Mr. Justice Mulvey
intimates that his origin!?! intention was to write a
separate opinion. We agree with him that this is
what he "should have done."
The Supreme Court confesses that erroneous
instructions were given to the jury by the court
below, but contends that correct instructions on the
same points were also given, and that it was the duty
of the jury to consider all the instructions together.
In the language of the court:
It is the duty of the jury to consider all the instructions together
and when the court can see that an instruction in the series,
although not stating the law correctly, is qualified by others, so
that the jury were not likely to be misled, the error will be
obviated.
This claim cannot fairly be allowed to one side
and denied to the other. The defendants have as
good a right to claim that the bad instructions quali-
fied the good ones as the prosecution has that the
good ones qualified the bad. Who shall decide
which of them influenced the jury? How many
jurors are competent to analyze a legal mixture com-
posed of good and bad instructions given by the
court?
It cannot be denied that the District Attorney, in
his zeal to convict, broke through the lines of profes-
sional etiquette which the humane spirit of the law
has thrown around his office. It is laid down in the
books that the prosecuting attorney, like the judge,
shall stand absolutely impartial between the prisoner
and the State. He must not revile the prisoner nor
insult him. He must not make fact-statements in
his argument, nor offer to the jury his own opinion
on the question of guilt or innocence; because, says
Mr. Bishop in his treatise on criminal law, if he is a
popular man in whom the jury have great confidence,
his mere opinion may have greater weight than the
sworn testimony of other men. All these rules were
violated in this case, against the protest of the pris-
oners' counsel, and yet the Supreme Court decides
that the " improprieties" were not such as to warrant
a reversal of the judgment. General Butler said a
few days ago: "I thoroughly believe, as the Supreme
Court of Massachusetts once expressed it, that 'a
man has a right to quibble for his life'"; but a man
certainly has no right to quibble for the death of
other men.
Macaulay tells us of a great state trial that took
place in England nearly two hnndred years ago.
Preston, Ashton and Elliott had been indicted for
high treason in connection with the Jacobite plot.
They had actually invited a French army to land in
England to help the scheme to overturn the govern-
ment. The popular clamor against them was loud
and threatening. Chief Justice Holt presided at the
468
THE OPEN COURT.
trial. Somers, the Solicitor-General prosecuted,
with Pollexfen to help him. All these were bitter
enemies of the prisoner and their politics, and we
quote the manner of their trial as we find it in
Macaulay:
Early in January, Preston, Ashton and Elliott, had been
arraigned at the Old Bailey. They claimed the right of severing
in their challenges. It was therefor necessary to try them
separately. The Solicitor-General, Somers, conducted the prose-
cution with a moderation and humanity of which his predecessors
had left him no example. " I did never think," he said, " that it
was the part of any who were of counsel for the King in cases of
this nature to aggravate the crime of the prisoners, or to put false
colors on the evidence." Holt's conduct was faultless. " I would
not mislead the jury, I'll assure you," said Holt to Preston, " nor
do you any manner of injury in the world." " Whatever my fate
may be," said Ashton, "I cannot but own that I have had a fair
trial for my life."
It is well to bear in mind that the issue in the
Supreme Court was not between the punishment of
the defendants and their absolute acquittal, but
between death and a new trial; and we believe that
by reason of the errors confessed in the decision
itself a new trial should have been allowed. And
this is the conviction, we are assured, of men as
eminent for legal ability and attainments as any of
the learned gentlemen by whom this decision has
been rendered. A lawyer in this city remarked a
few days ago: "I believe the men are guilty and
ought to be hanged, but I am sorry that they did not
have a fair trial." Guilty or not, if they "did not
have a fair trial," they should have another.
Assuming that the men are guilty, as the evidence
indicates that the most of them are, we still adhere
to the conviction expressed in The Index months ago,
that the highest justice and the best interests of
society would be promoted by the commutation of
their sentence.
At a meeting of the Philadelphia Academy of
Natural Sciences, four years ago, Dr. S. V. Clevenger
was invited to detail the law which he had discovered
regulating the distribution of valves in the veins.
When the doctor concluded his blackboard demonstra-
tion Prof. E. D. Cope spoke at length, with his well-
known eloquence, commending the discovery as an im-
portant one, for a very mysterious matter had become
thereby wonderfully simplified, and evolutionism had re-
ceived a new support. In effect Dr. Clevenger's law
straightens out a confused arrangement of valved and
unvalved veins in man, that the medical student had to
memorize arbitrarily, thus: The arm and leg veins and
those between the ribs have valves, while other perpen-
dicular and horizontal veins have no valves. It occurred
to the doctor that these peculiarities must have been ac-
quired in our quadrupedal ancestry, and he drew a dia-
gram of the human veins as they would appear in a
man "on all fours." The simplicity of the distribution
became thus startlingly apparent. In this position the
perpendicular veins are valved, the horizontal are without
valves, and the blood is helped toward the heart against
gravitation. Clevenger's law is approximately but suffi-
ciently worded : "Dorsad veins only are valved" That
is, only such veins have valves as those that pass to the
heart toward the back. No one has ever announced any-
thing new that was of service to his fellow men, without
at least a reprimand. Sir Charles Bell's practice as a phy-
sician fell away from him wdien he wrote an essay on
the mechanism of the human hand. Dr. Clevenger
was offered the chair of Comparative Anatomy and
Physiology in a university, the president of which was a
clergyman, but when his evolutionism was made apparent
by his first announcement of this discovery, the profes-
sorship offer was withdrawn. This matter was dis-
cussed in The Nation, in 1SS4, after the appearance of
Dr. Clevenger's lengthy " Disadvantages of the Upright
Position," as the leading article in the American Natur-
alist, January, 1SS4.
Rev. W. G. Babcock, Boston, Mass., writes:
Mr. Clark says in The Open Court, page 429: " For men
pursuing ordinary avocations, it is well to remain blind to the
darker side of life, as they could not otherwise live and work."
He also says: "When ill becomes a sole trait." Again he
likens life to a perpetual lottery, with prizes and blanks. He
may be right in the position that with most men reason is an
advocate and not a judge; but does he mean that evil is not only
an unsolved but an insolvable problem? Does he really mean
that the fundamental law of the universe admits of two classes of
human beings, prize-holders and blank-holders?
I have noticed that evil has always had very able advocates
in the great criminal court of human affairs — and have concluded
that "the world of ill-being" is not a world where "ill is the
sole trait," but where there is a good deal of satisfaction of some
kind. Can any one with reason complain that he was born?
# * *
The Boston Herald in an article exposing the
absurdities of "Christian science and mind-cure,"
remarks:
Not the least curious thing about the whole is the intrepid
logic with which the leaders accept the most delirious conse-
quences of their principles. In vain does the humble skeptic
object against the pure mind theory that a dose of arsenic will kill,
even though taken under the supposition that it was sugar.
True, serenely admits Mrs. Eddv, but it was not the arsenic that
did it; it was the inherited mental error, working unconsciously
in the victim, the error that arsenic is unwholesome. "The few,"
she says, " who think a drug harmless, where a mistake has been
made in the prescription, are unequal to the many who have
named it poison, and so the majority opinion governs the result."
This last is truly delicious. The majority opinion governs the
result. Was ever so sublime a tribute paid to democracy?
# # #
Professor Stuckenberg, of Berlin, sorrowfully ad-
mits that German Protestantism is losing its power
among the people. As an illustration of this decline
the religious condition of Berlin is thus mentioned:
The population of that city increases at the rate of 50,000
THE OPEN COURT.
469
annually, but there is no corresponding increase in churches. Ten
years ago there were 500,000 inhabitants outside of the center ol
the city, with but twenty churches and twenty-four ministers.
Now the number of inhabitants in these districts has nearly
doubled, but no new churches have been built.
WHEN SUMAC GLIMMERS RED.
BV ELISSA M. MOORE.
Across the sky cold clouds are driven,
From tree and shrub bright leaves are riven
And at my feet are spread ;
Around me, gaudy flowers gleam yellow,
Fair Nature's still most royal color,
When sumac glimmers red.
The gentian in the marsh is hiding,
There till the first cold frost abiding,
By hidden waters fed ;
Through glistening leaves full shyly glancing
In bluest dress is still entrancing,
When sumac glimmers red.
The timid swallows southward turning,
For brighter suns and flowers are yearning,
Mourning the glory fled.
For now how soon is Autumn waning,
And now how fast is winter gaining
When sumac glimmers red.
Though woods in brightest dress are gleaming,
Their bravery is but in seeming,
Shadows fall overhead.
The nights grow chill when close the flowers,
A secret sadness fills the hours
When sumac glimmers red.
Sadly I turn from Autumn's splendor
Of leaves that glow in sad surrender,
And whisper " Youth hath fled."
Vague shadows of the past close round me,
Sorrow outlived again hath bound me
When sumac glimmers red.
HO THEOS META SON.
BY GOW'AN LEA.
HYMN.
To live in every thought
A life so true and pure;
To do in every deed
The noblest, and endure;
To hate with direst hate
The wrong and sin we see ;
The sinner to restore
With gentlest charity ; —
This is the heavenly mind,
No matter where 'tis found ;
A soul at one with good,
Knows only hallowed ground.
SONG.
BY HORACE L. TRAUBEL.
TO EMERSON:
Thou wert measurer of the spheres,
All were servants made for thee;
In the hollows of the sea,
In the strong-veined heroes sent,
In the roses of the field,
Thou hadst traced for kindred eyes
Songs of glory, new-revealed,
Of a universe content.
to carlyle:
Truth had held thee to its heart —
Truth, that scatters from the deep
Deeds of union, part with part,
O'er the worlds the gods may keep;
Sternly hath thy prophet-voice
Touched the chord to fix in man
Beauty — when the souls rejoice,
Duty — when they bravely plan.
choral:
Out of need the heroes came;
Out of need they move us still;
Grimly, in the smoke and flame, —
Sweetly, from the starry hill, —
Life was pledged to love and truth!
Leagued with day and night they stand,
Youth with rugged brother-youth,
Heart to heart and hand to hand!
LOVE.
BY MRS. EMMA TITTLE.
O, Love!
Thou art an orphan in this world of ours
Wearing a coronet of dead white flowers,
Who, with sad eyes, and lashes meek and wet,
Art dreaming dreams which fill thee with regret.
O, Love!
Fore'er divine in this sin sullied world!
Thy tender lips contempt has never curled,
Thy pearly fingers cannot wear a stain,
Albeit they link with Sorrow, Sin and Pain.
O, Love!
Thou of the drooping lash and downcast eyes,
Wreathed by the angels in thy native skies,
Shalt wear again a living wreath of white
Touched by the glory of supernal light.
O, Love!
Thou art no egotist, in boastful tone
Claiming thy angelhood, and thine alone;
But, sighing sadly, that each wistful quest
Tells thee the sinless angels know thee best.
47°
THE OPEN COURT.
THE OCCULT SCIENCES IN THE TEMPLES OF
ANCIENT EGYPT.*
BY GEORGIA LOUISE LEONARD.
[A paper read at the "Fortnightly Conversation," Washington, D. C,
May 5, 1887.]
In a search for information concerning Egyptian
occultism one spends his time in vain who seeks it in the
ordinary channels of literature. He will not find it in
books which ornament parlor tables, nor will it gener-
ally be found treasured on the shelves of great libraries.
Scientists, historians, archaeologists, even Egyptologists
themselves, ignore all mention of the occult, or speak of
it only with derision. To them, the idea of a religion,
the highest aspect of which was essentially esoteric, pre-
sided over by priests who were not only the possessors
of dread secrets, but the accredited workers of wonders,
has in it something manifestly absured.
Where then are we to look for the treasures of which
we are in search ? The avenues are not many where seek-
ing leads to rinding. When the majority of scholars
who have earned world-wide reputations in their several
departments of knowlege, and evinced therein both fair-
ness and discrimination, are a unit in refusing not only
to believe in, but even to investigate the psychic phenom-
ena of their own day, how can we expect them to treat
with any degree of consideration the symbolism of a
veiled science and religion which have been dead these
two thousand years? As illustrations of this class of
minds there is Maudsley who reduces with ease all
" Supernatural Seemings " to " Natural Causes," as at
present generally understood. Then we have Herbert
Spencer in whose Principles of Sociology all unknown
or apparently occult manifestations are treated as so
many phases of the law of mental development — the
final outcome of which is practical materialism, or a total
elimination of the super- sensuous from the domain of
experience. Again there is Tylor in whose Primitive
Culture an effort is made to establish the theory of
evolution by the application of the ethnographic method
to the comparative evidence of the various stages of relig-
ious progress.
Mr. Tylor informs us that "it is the harsh, and at
times even painful, office of ethnography to expose the
remains of crude old culture which have passed into
harmful superstition, and to mark these out for destruc-
tion, "j- In this author's work on "Anthropology" we
are still further enlightened: "The student who wishes
to compare the mental habits of rude and ancient peo-
ples with our own, may" — he tells us — "look into a
* In treating this subject but little more than suggestions can he furnished ;
tor, as I shall endeavor to show, those who stand without the veil, cannot view
the mysteries, and the key to the penetralia is never" loaned, so far as I can dis-
cover.
I make for the Egyptian priests no claims for a knowledge of the supernat-
ural—-but for the natural that is lost or obscured in the waste and dust of past
ages.
I Tylor. Primitive Culture, Vol. II. p. 453.
subject which has now fallen into contempt from its
practical uselessness, but which is most instructive in
showing how the unscientific mind works;" and this
subject is "Magic!"*
Dr. Hammond in this country and Dr. Carpenter in
England, have each investigated to a certain extent some
phases of psychic phenomena. Instead of the impartial
verdict which we naturally expected from them, we
have only reiterated statements of preconceived opinions,
enunciated with renewed assumptions of authority ; and in
no uncertain terms are told that " barefaced imposture,"
or " innocent delusion " will adequately account for the
whole thing. The former of these eminent gentlemen
will not even admit the existence of an unknown species of
" force," or an undiscovered " natural law." Mr. John
Fiske, who never loses an opportunity to discredit the
attainments of the ancients, proves an able second to
Dr. Hammond. He sneers at Prof. Crookes for his
suggestions of a "psychic force," and characterizes his
method of research as that of the " barbaric myth-maker
and the ill-trained thinker."-j-
In any search into occultism it is quite evident we
must look elsewhere for assistance than to such scientists
and historians as these. To such the words of Lord
Bacon are especially applicable: " We have," he says,
" but an imperfect knowledge of the discoveries in arts
and sciences, made public in different ages and countries,
and still less of what has been done by particular per-
sons, and transacted in private;" and he further says,
" As to those who have set up for teachers of the sciences,
when they drop their character, and at intervals speak
their sentiments, they complain of the subtlety of nature,
the concealment of truth, the obscurity of things, the
entanglement of causes, and the imperfections of the
human understanding; thus rather choosing to accuse
the common state of men and things, than make con-
fession of themselves. £
To unravel the ///'story of the occult sciences of
Egypt, is nearly as difficult as to rediscover the sciences
themselves. True it is that dozens of old papyrus rolls
have been brought forth from dark tombs to the light of
day; true that all the monuments of her land were once
a pictured glory — her history and her religion chiseled
deep into every fragment of her mighty pylons or the
massive columns of her vast sanctuaries. True again,
that these writings have been translated to the world;
but the task has been accomplished by those of alien
race, of foreign tongue, and a hostile faith. Honest and
patient, then, as these scholars may be, it is not singular
they have failed to comprehend the full significance of
ideas veiled in obscure or mystical language, and have
stigmatized many a precious Egyptian scroll as childish
and absurd. And yet — those who will may discover in
*Tylor. Anthropology, p. 33S.
f Fiske. Darwinism and Other Essays, p. 125.
% Bacon. Novum Organum, pp. 4-5.
THE OPEN COURT.
471
them priceless germs of truth half hid 'midst the clumsy
modern renderings of a speech long dead.
Though much valuable information concerning the
mysteries, is derived from the classic writers, they are
often provokingly silent upon the very points which we
most wish them to elucidate, and not seldom do the)'
wholly misconceive the vital principles of the Egyptian
religion, and overlook the most important sciences.
Herodotus, who was the most painstaking and accu-
rate of historians, and entered into the minutiae of things
when at liberty to do so, frequently piques our curiosity,
only that it may end in disappointment — for, when we
fancy he is about to divulge some secret, the narrative
abruptly terminates with the statement that he is not
permitted to speak further on the subject. Diligently
gleaning from the priests of the great universities of
Sai's, Memphis and Heliopolis, whatever of interest or
wisdom he could induce them»to impart, much, of neces-
sity, which he saw and heard honor forbade him to
reveal ; and if he was initiated into an)- of the mysteries
that fact alone would preclude all discussion as to their
character.
Plato, Diodorus, Strabo and Pliny the Elder, have
also left valuable records of their sojourns in Egypt; and
Plutarch's treatise upon Isis and Osiris, has been the
source of valuable information regarding the worship and
esoteric doctrines of the Egyptians. The writings of
Plato — which to many are shrouded in mysticism — con-
tain a wealth of thought and suggestion for those who
enter upon their study with the true divining spirit.
For thirteen years the great Greek sat at the feet of
the priests of Heliopolis, adopting their customs, con-
forming to their rites and sharing in their wisdom. The
reasons which prevented Herodotus from disclosing the
sacred teachings, were still more potent in the case of
the Athenian philosopher.
Many historians, from the old Greek and Roman to
the Arab writers of the Middle Ages, have discoursed of
Egypt, her manners and customs, laws, religion, and
sacred mysteries; while scores of exhaustive modern
works treat of her ancient grandeur. The chief diffi-
culty to be met in any search into her more secret his-
tory, lies in the fact that her vast learning was zealously
guarded and revealed only to those who by long and
faithful devotion and rigid purity of life had rendered
themselves its fitting depositories; and upon the most
binding assurances that it should never be divulged.
We know that the majority of our learned scholars
den}' that the Egyptian priests had anything to teach us,
or that they knew anything of which we are ignorant
to-day. We will turn then from these modern text-
books to what Mr. Tylor calls "the antiquated disserta-
tions of the great thinkers of the past,"* and learn what
they thought of Egypt and her fame. They tell us of
* Tylor. Primitive Culture, Vol. II. p. 444.
her splendid civilization, her incomparable grandeur, her
time-defying monuments, the perfection of her arts, the
profundity of her science, the excellence of her institu-
tions, the purity of her religion and her ethics, and the
happiness of her people. And her own gigantic ruins
bear witness to the truth of all they say. Where now
lie the crumbling remnants of her tombs, her temples
and her palaces; where the bats flap their dusky win^s
and the jackal's shrill cry wakes the echoes in deserted
halls; there once arose a succession of spjendid towns,
instinct with rich, varied and tumultuous life.
When Egypt was far on her path of decline there
came to her still mighty cities, the flower and genius of
other lands to partake at the fount of her wisdom.
Some 550 years b.c. the Greek Thales went there to
learn mathematics and astronomy; and afterward the
great Athenian law-giver studied jurisprudence; and fol-
lowing close upon Solon came Pythagoras, of whom
Harriet Martineau says: "I strongly suspect it would
be found, if the truth could be known, that more of the
spiritual religion, the abstruse philosophy, and the lofty
ethics and political views of the old Egyptians have
found their way into the general mind of our race
through Pythagoras, than by any or all other channels,
except, perhaps, the institutions of Moses and the specu-
lations of Plato."* Then came Hecataeus of Miletos,
to whom the priests of Egypt showed the statues of
three hundred and forty-five high-priests, each one the
direct lineal descendant of his predecessor; arK] Iater
Herodotus and Eudoxus and Anaxagoras and Plato,
and many other foreigners. To quote from Miss Mar-
tineau once more, " It really appears as if the great men
of Greece and other countries had little to say on the
highest and deepest subjects of human inquiry till they
had studied at Memphis, or Sai's, or Thebes, or Heliop-
olis."f And Sir Gardner Wilkinson writes: " No one
will for a moment imagine that the wisest of the Greeks
went to study in Egypt for any other reason than be-
cause it was there that the greatest discoveries were to
be learnt." J
Did all these brilliant minds pursue an ignis fatuus?
Was the boasted science of Egypt a chimera?
We will see what was claimed for her science and
her art, and whence they came. Let us go back to her
earliest historic clays — back so far that imagination is
lost in the mist of ages.
What is our first view of her? and who are her peo-
ple ? Autocthones, or colonists from a distant land off-
shoots of some great primeval parent stock? The first
view which history presents to us is that of a highly
civilized nation at the very acme of its power and
grandeur. Dr. Tiele tells us that " When the Egyptian
* Eastern Travel^ p. $2.
t Eastern Travel, p. S3.
\ Manners and Customs^ Vol. II. p. 316.
472
THE OPEN COURT.
nation enters upon the scene of the world's history, it is
already full-grown;"* and Mariette Bey states that
" From the earliest times Egyptian civilization was com-
plete"! But this hardly helps us. Though the latter
of the authors just named takes us back to 5,004 years
B.C., we are no nearer a solution of the enigma of this
people's beginnings. Whether this civilization was
wholly a product of Egyptian soil, or whether, on the
contrary, it was imported in pre-historic times, with
some great influx of peoples from abroad, it is impos-
sible in the present state of historical research, to deter-
mine. The probabilities are that the Egyptians were
an Aryan off-shoot from some primeval race whose his-
tory is lost in the night of time, and that from that race
they inherited their knowledge of the arts and the
occult forces of nature. However that may be, when
first we encounter the Egyptians we are brought face to
face with the direct evidences of their learning and skill.
It is proper to state at this point that the question
of the derivation and duration of Egyptian civilization
has been entered into for the sole purpose of showing
that the claim of this people to a high antiquity and an
exact and elaborate science, is by no means preposterous,
as I shall endeavor to show.
Upon the very threshold of their history — under
Menes the first king — we find them in full possession of
the practical sciences of hydrostatics and hydraulic
engineering and mechanical construction. Already had
they turned the course of the Nile, and reared the city
of Memphis with its gigantic temples and palace. We
learn that even at this early day there were from thirty
to forty colleges of the priests who studied the occult
sciences and practical magic. (And here let us stop a
moment and examine this word " Magic," which has
been so long degraded from its ancient meaning. As
originally employed it signified the attainment of wisdom,
and command over the hidden poweis of nature. There-
fore a magician was one versed in the secret knowledge,
and an initiate into the arcane mysteries. In other
words he was the scientist of his time. In this sense
only are those two terms, magic and magician here used).
The cities of Memphis, Ileliopolis, Thebes and later.
Sal's, became the great centers of Egyptian learning,
Their splendid temples formed the nuclei around which
clustered schools, universities, observatories and priestly
habitations.
There were many different orders of the priests,
ranging from the simple scribe to the high-priest him-
self; but it was only those of the highest degree who
were permitted to become the repositories of that occult
lore which had come down from the remotest ages. In
the silence and obscurity of the lowest crypts of the
temples these priestly sages conducted their secret
* Tiele. Egyptian Religion, p. (J.
f Mariette Bey. Hist. Ancienne DJ Egypte, p. 19.
ceremonies and magical operations, and hither, doubtless,
were brought the candidates for initiation into the greater
mysteries.
Among the branches of learning pursued by them
were mathematics, astronomy, astrology, metallurgy,
chemistry and alchemy, all of which bore an occult
aspect.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
THOUGHT WITHOUT WORDS.
The following correspondence between Mr. F. Gal-
ton, Mr. George Romanes, Mr. J. J. Murphy, etc.,
and Professor Max Miiller on " Thought Without
Words," is reprinted from Nature after careful revision :
VII. LETTER FROM MR. F. GALTON, F.R.S.
42 Rutland Gate, S. W., May iS, 1887.
Dear Professor — Thank you much for your full letter.
I have not yet sent it on to Nature because it would have been
too late for this week's issue* and more especially because I
thought you might like to reserve your reply, not only until you
had seen my own answer to what you have said in it, but also
until others should have written, and possibly also until you had
looked at Binet, and some of the writers he quotes. So I send
you very briefly my answer, but the letter shall go to Nature if
you send me a post-card to send it.
In my reply, or in any future amplification of what is already
written, I should emphasize what was said about fencing, etc.,
■with the head, distinguishing it from intuitive actions (due, as I
and others hold, to inherited or personal habit).
The inhibition of words in the cases mentioned was, I should
explain, analogous to this: — There are^streets improvements in
progress hereabouts. I set myself to think, by mental picture
only, whether the pulling down of a certain tobacconist's shop
(i. e. its subtraction from the row of houses in which it stands)
would afford a good opening for a needed thoroughfare. Now, on
first perceiving the image, it was associated with a mental per-
ception of the smell of the shop. I inhibited that mental smell
because it had nothing to do with what I wanted to think out.
So words often arise in my own mind merely through association
with what I am thinking about; they are not the things that my
mind is dealing with; they are superfluous and they are embar-
rassments, so I inhibit them.
T have not yet inquired, but will do so, whether deaf-mutes
who had never learnt words or any symbols for them, had ever
been taught dominoes, or possibly even chess. I myself cannot
conceive that the names — king, queen, etc. — are of any help in
calculating a single move in advance. For the effect of many
moves I use them mentally to record the steps gained, but for
nothing else. I have reason to believe that not a few first-rate
chess-players calculate by their mental eye only.
In speaking of modern mental literature, pray do not think
me so conceited as to refer to my own writings only. I value
modern above ancient literature on this subject, even if the mod-
ern writers are far smaller men than the older ones, because they
have two engines of research which the others wanted: —
(1) Inductive inquiry, ethnological and other. The older
authorities had no vivid conception of the different qualities ol
men's minds. They thought that a careful examination of their
own minds sufficed for laying down laws that were generally
applicable to humanity.
(2) They had no adequate notion of the importance of mental
pathology. When by a blow, or by a disease, or, as they now
say, by hypnotism, a whole province of mental faculties can be
THE OPEN COURT.
473
abolished, and the working of what remains can be carefully
studied, it is now found that as good a clue to the anatomy of the
mind may be obtained as men who study mangled limbs, or who
systematically dissect, may obtain of the anatomy of the body.
I add nothing about the advantage to modern inquirers due to
their possession of Darwinian facts and theories, because we do
not rate them in the same way.
Very truly yours,
Francis Galtcn.
Professor Max Miiller.
VIII. LETTER FROM PROF. MAX MILLER.
OxKORD,#May 19, 1SS7.
My Dear Mr. Galton — If you think mv letter worth pub-
lishing in Nature, I have no objection, though it contains no more
I ban what anybody may read in rav Science of Thought.
Nothing proves to my mind the dependence of thought on
language so much as the difficulty we have in making others
understand our thoughts by means of words. Take the instance
you mention of a shop being pulled down in your street, and
suggesting to you the desirability of opening a new street. There
are races, or, at all events, there have been, who had no name or
concept of shop. Still, if they saw your shop, they would call it
a house, a building, a cave, a hole, or, as you suggest, a chamber of
smells and horrors, but at all events a tiling. Now, all these are
names. Even thing is a name. Take away these names, and
all definite thought goes; take away the name thing, and thought
goes altogether. When I say word, I do not mean flatus vocis, I
always mean word as inseparable from concept, thought-word or
word-thought.
It is quite possible that you may tench deaf-and-dumb people
dominoes; but deaf-and-dumb people, left to themselves, do not
invent dominoes, and that makes a great difference. Even so
simple a game as dominoes, would be impossible without names
and their underlying concepts. Dominoes are not mere blocks of
wood; they signify something. This becomes much clearer in
chess. You cannot move king, or queen, or knight as mere dolls.
In chess, each one of these figures can be moved according to its
name and concept only. Otherwise chess would be a chaotic
scramble, not an intelligent game. If you once see what I mean
by names, namelv that by which a thing becomes notum or
known, I expect you will say, " Of course we all admit that with-
out a name we cannot really know anything."
I wonder you do not see that in ah mv writings I have been
an evolutionist or Darwinian fur sang. What is language but
a constant becoming? What is thought but an Ewiges Werden?
Everything in language begins by a personal habit, and then
becomes inherited; but what yve students of language try to
discover is the first beginning of each personal habit, the origin
of every thought, and the origin of every word. For that pur-
pose ethnological researches are of the highest importance to us,
and you will find that Kant, the cleverest dissector of abstract
thought, was at the same time the most careful student of ethnol-
ogy, the most accurate observer of concrete thought in its endless
variety. With all my admiration for modern writers, I am in
this sense also a Darwinian that I prefer the rudimentary stages
of philosophic thought to its later developments, not to say its
decadence. I have learnt more from Plato than from Comte. But
I have ordered Binet all the same, and when I have read him I
shall tell you what I think of him.
Yours very truly,
F. Max Mit.ler.
IX. LETTER FROM MR. GEORGE J. ROMANES, F. R. S.
June 4, 1S87.
There appears to be some ambiguity about this matter as dis-
cussed in the correspondence which has recently taken place in
your columns. In the first instance Mr. Galton understood Pro-
fessor Max Miiller to have argued that in no individual human
mind can any process of thought be ever conducted without the
mental rehearsal of words, or the verbum men/ale of the School-
men. Now, although this is the view which certainly appears to
pervade the Professor's work on "The Science of Thought,"
there is one passage in that work, and several passages in his subse-
quent correspondence with Mr. Galton, yvhich express quite a dif-
ferent view — namely, that when a definite structure of conceptual
ideation has been built up by the aid of words, it may afterward
persist independently of such aid; the scaffolding was required
for the original construction of the edifice, but not for its subse-
quent stability. That these two views are widely different may
be shown by taking any one of the illustrations from the Nature
correspondence. In answer to Mr. Galton, Professor Max Miiller
says: "It is quite possible that you may teach deaf-and-dumb peo-
ple dominoes ; but deaf-and-dumb people, left to themselves, do
not invent dominoes, and that makes a great difference. Even so
simple a game as dominoes would be impossible without names
and their underlying concepts." Now, assuredly it does "make a
great difference " whether we are supporting the view that domi-
noes could not be flayed yvithout names underlying concepts, or
the view that without such means dominoes could not have been
invented. That there cannot be concepts without, names is a well-
recognized doctrine of psychology, and that dominoes could not
have been invented in the absence of certain simple concepts
relating to number no one could well dispute. But when the
game has been invented, there is no need to fall back upon names
and concepts as a preliminary to each move, or for the player to
predicate to himself before each move that the number he lavs
down corresponds with the number to which he joins it. The
late Dr. Carpenter assured me that he had personally investigated
the case of a performing dog which was exhibited many years
ago as a domino-player, and had fully satisfied himself that the
animal's skill in this respect was genuine — i. e., not dependent on
any code of signals from the showman. This, therefore, is a
better case than that of the deaf-mute, in order to show that domi-
noes can be played by means of sensuous association alone. But
my point now is that two distinct questions have been raised
in your columns, and that the ambiguity to which I have referred
appears to have arisen from a failure to distinguish between them.
Every living psychologist will doubtless agree with Professor
Max Miiller where he appears to say nothing more than that ii
there had never been any names there could never have been
any concepts; but this is a widely different thing from saying
what he elsewhere appears to say — i. e., that without the mental
rehearsal of words there cannot be performed in anv case a
process of distinctively human thought. The first of these two
widely different questions may be dismissed as one concerning
which no difference of opinion is likely to arise. Touching the
second, if the Professor does not mean what I have said he
appears in some places to say, it is a pity that he should attempt
to defend such a position a* that chess, for instance, cannot be played
unless the player "deals all the time with thought-words and
yvord thoughts." For the original learning of the game it was
necessary that the powers of the various pieces should have been
explained to him by means of words; but when this knowledge
was thus gained it was no longer needful that before making any-
particular move he should mentally state the powers of all the
pieces concerned, or predicate to himself the various possibilities
yvhich the move might involve. All these things he does bv his
specially-formed associations alone, just as does a draught-player,
who is concerned with a much simpler order of relations; in
neither case is any dtmand made upon the verbum men/ale.
Again, if the Professor does not mean to uphold the view
that in no case can there be distinctively human thought without
474
THE OPEN COURT.
the immediate and direct assistance of words, it is a mistake in him
to represent "the dependence of thought on language" as abso-
lute.* The full powers of conceptual ideation which belong to
any individual man may or may not all have been due to words
as used by his ancestors, his contemporaries and himself. But,
however this may be, that these powers, when once attained, may
afterward continue operative without the use of words is not a
matter of mere opinion based an one's own personal introspection,
which no opponent can verify ; it is a matter of objectively demon-
strable fact, which no opponent can gainsay. For when a man is
suddenly afflicted with aphasia he does not forthwith become as
the thoughtless brute; he has lost all trace of words, but his 'rea-
son may remain unimpaired. George J. Romanes.
X. LETTER FROM MR. J. J. MURPHY.
Belfast, June 19, 18S7.
I have postponed offering you any remarks on Professor Max
Miiller's " Science of Thought " until I had read the book through.
1 think Professor Miiller is on the whole right, that language
is necessary to thought, and is related to thought very much as
organization to life. The question discussed by some of your
correspondents, whether it is possible in particular cases to think
without language, appears to me of little importance. I can
believe that it is possible to think without words when the subjects
of thought are visible things and their combinations, as in invent-
ing machinery ; but the intellectual power that invents machinery
has been matured by the use of language.
But Professor Miiller has not answered, nor has he asked, the
question, on what property or power of thought the production of
language depends. He has shown most clearly the important
truth that all names are abstract — that to invent a name which
denotes an indefinite number of objects is a result of abstraction.
But on what does the power of abstraction depend? I believe it
depends on the power of directing thought at will. Professor
Miiller lays stress on the distinction between percepts and con-
cepts, though he thinks they are inseparable. I am inclined to
differ from him, and to think that animals perceive as vividly as
we do, but have only a rudimentary power of conception and
thought. I think the power of directing thought at will is the
distinctively human power, on which the power of forming con-
cepts and language depends. Joseph John Murphy.
XI. LETTER FROM MR. ARTHUR EBBELS.
Chaphan, June 6, 1S87.
After reading the correspondence published in Nature (Vol.
XXXVI., pp. :8, 52 and 100) on this subject, it has occurred to me
that the difficulties anthropologists find in Professor Max Miiller's
theory are connected chiefly with his peculiar definitions.
In his letters to Mr. Galton, Professor Miiller narrows the
domain of his theory to a considerable extent. By defining
thought as the faculty of " addition and subtraction," and by tak-
ing language as composed of "word-thoughts" or "thought-
words," Professor Miiller excludes from his theory all those
processes which are preliminary to the formation of concepts.
Thus narrowed, I do not see that his doctrine in any way touches
the wider question, whether reasoning, as generally understood,
is independent of language. If we keep to the terms of this
theory, thoughts and words are undoubtedly inseparable. But
this does not in the least imply that all thought is impossible with-
out words.
When we enlarge the scope of our terms it is at once evident
* E. g. — " I hope I have thus answered everything that has been or lhat can
possibly be adduced against what I call the fundamental tenet that the science
of language, and what ought to become the fundamental tenet of the science ot
thought, namely, that language and thought, though distinguishable, are insep-
arable, that no one truly thinks who does not speak, and that no one truly
speaks who does not think." — "Science of Thought," pp. 63-64.
that thoughts and words are not inseparable. It is all very well
to join together " thought- word " and "word-thought." Yet the
thought is something quite distinct from the mere sound which
stands as a word for it. A concept is formed from sensations.
Our thoughts are occupied with what we see, and feel, and hear,
and this primarily. Thus it is that, in the wider sense of think-
ing, we can think in pictures. This is the mental experience which
Professor Tyndall so highly prizes. He likes to picture an imagi-
nary process, not in words, not even by keeping words in the
background, but in a mental presentation of the things themselves
as they would affect his senses. Surely, then, if the mind can
attend to its own reproduction of former sensations, and even
form new arrangements of sensations for itself quite irrespective
of word-signs, as Mr. Galton and most other thinkers have experi-
enced, it is evident that thought and language are not inseparable.
All this is, of course, somewhat apart from Professor Miiller's
restricted theory. But the question follows, how from these wider
thoughts do we become possessed of the faculty of abstraction?
Does not the one shade imperceptibly into the other? Professor
Miiller answers no, and here I think he is at fault. It is at this
point that anthropologists part company with him. If he be
right, how do people learn? According to his theory new
thoughts when they arise start into being under some general
concept. I do not deny that they are placed under some general
concept, but it seems to me that something entirely independent
of the general concept has, for convenience, been placed under
it, and this something must be called a thought. No doubt the
thought is at first vague and indefinite, and only when it becomes
definite does it require a name. But here one can plainly trace
the genesis of a thought, and the adaptation of a word as a symbol
for it. The new concept and its sign do not arise simultaneously.
There are two distinct growths, not one only, as Professor Miil-
ler's theory presupposes. The connection may be subtle and
close, but the two elements can be easily separated. It avails
nothing to say that until the thought is placed under a concept it
is not a thought. This is a mere question of definition, not of
actual fact.
I would point out one other consideration. If Professor
Miiller's theory were true for all kinds of thinking, development
would be imposible. If man could not think without language,
and could not have language without thinking, he would never
have had either, except by a miracle. And scientific men will
not accept the alternative. We can conceive shadowy thoughts
gradually shaping to themselves a language for expression, and
we can understand how each would improve the other, until by
constant interaction a higher process of thought was introduced.
But we cannot conceive the sudden appearance of the faculty of
abstraction together with its ready-made signs or words.
I have often wished that Professor Miiller would state dis-
tinctly how his theory accounts for the very first beginnings of
language. I have not been able to discover any explanation of
this point in his " Lectures on the Science of Language."
Arthur Ebbels.
xii. letter from mrs. a. grenfell.
As poets have extraordinary inklings and apcrcus on the most
abstruse scientific questions, Wordsworth's opinion on this matter
(quoted by De Quincy) is worth considering: Language is not
the "dress" of thought, it is the "incarnation." This is Shelley's
apcrcu of Darwinism. Man exists " but in the future and the
past; being, not what he is, but what he has been and shall be."
How to "distil working ideas from the obscurest poems" — to
use Lord Acton's words — is one of the secrets of genius.
A. Grenfell.
[The conclusion of this correspondence has to be deferred to our next
issue. Ed.]
THE OPEN COURT.
475
CORRESPONDENCE.
MR. BARNARD'S DEFENSE OF HIS CRITICISM.
To the Editors:
I regret exceedingly that my criticism of Dr. Carus' article
was looked upon by him as "scurrilous." Had I known of the
disposition with which he would have received it I should proba-
bly have never written the letter, but now that it has been done I
feel that justice demands that I shall prove true those statements
which my letter contained, and in so doing save myself from the
abvss of execration in which a "scurrilous critic" must expiate his
crime.
In my letter I said Dr. Carus "begins by explaining the
construction of the Latin distich" (Latin in this instance). I now
offer his own words in evidence: "The form of the verses is like
their Roman prototype the distich ; i. e. two lines consisting of a
dactylic hexameter and a pentameter." Is not this an explana-
tion of" the construction of the Latin distich?" Dr. Carus goes
into a more exhaustive explanation in the article which called
forth my criticism and ends h\- presenting a schedule of a distich,
but I have quoted enough of the explanation to answer my pres-
ent purpose and will now turn to his letter and quote from it.
Dr. Carus says, in quotation marks as though quoting from
his article, " I said ' The Xenions are imitations of a Roman
poet's verses.'" This is his answer to my statement that " Dr.
Carus begins by explaining the construction of the Latin distich."
I was surprised on looking over his article to find that the sen-
tence " the Xenions are imitations of a Roman poet's verses " was
not there, yet Dr. Carus informs us that that was what he said.
It would be of interest to me and perhaps some others if Dr. Carus
would point out that division of his article in which the sentence
occurs. I criticised his use'of the words "meter" and "meters,"
instead of foot and feet. The ground upon which my criticism
was based was the fact that the words foot and feet are used in
speaking of the divisions of a line of verse in the standard English
treatises on prosody. What the Greek terms are Dr. Carus has
told us, and in claiming the right to use them in this instance he
has, it seems to me, become inconsistent, for he gives as his reason
for not using the word caesura a desire " to avoid the Latin and
Greek terminology." I said the use of the words meter and
meters to designate foot and feet was ungrammatical. I still
adhere to that belief, but wish to qualify my statement by saying
that their use is unwarranted in an article written in English unless
it be a translation. The words foot and feet are not misleading
in any way whatever.
In my letter I stated that Dr. Carus "as a crowning error
omitted to speak of the caesura which divides the hexameter," and
I also censured him for omitting it from his schedule. To this he
replies "that the hexameter can have many caesuras," gives ex-
amples, and then says "accordingly, it would have been an impos-
sibility to adorn my schedule with the caesura of the hexameter."
Why "an impossibility"? Is the fact that the hexameter can
have many caesuras a reasonable excuse for failing to mention it?
for failing to note that the caesura always has a place in a true
hexameter? And now let us examine his schedule and see if he
is warranted in omitting the caesura from its hexameter. As he
gives it, it consists of five dactylic feet and one trochaic or spon-
daic foot, six feet in all. Its equivalent in words would be:
Like the wild rush of the se;i |l that aye bellows and foams in its anger,
the caesura coming between the first syllable of the third foot and
the remainder of the line. To say that " it would have been an
impossibility " to place a caesura in his schedule of an hexameter is
equal to saying that an hexameter has no caesura. He could have
put one in either of the several places where it might occur, and
should have done so.
Dr. Carus' use of the word incision in place of caesura, the
Latin term, is defended by him with not a little bitterness. I am
advised "to consult the English dictionaries" and am informed
that the word "casura is derived from ardcrc, 'to cut.'" There-
fore, since making an incision is but to cut, Dr. Carus feels justi-
fied in using the word incision to denote the separation of a verse
into two parts.
Reference to Webster (last edition) yields the following as the
definition of the word caesura: "C.esi/ra. Latin. A cutting off,
a division, stop, from caedre, caesum, to cut off (Pros) A pause
or division in a verse ; a separation, by the ending of a word, or by
a pause in the sense, of syllables rythmical!}- connected."
My suggestion of the word division as the proper one is sus-
tained by Webster. Dr. Carus says the word " caesura is derived
from ccedere, ' to cut.' " Webster says the word caesura is derived
from the word ccedere, which means " to cut off" To make an
incision is not " to cut oft"," is not to separate ; but " to cut oft " is
to make a division, is to separate; thus the word "division" can
be used in place of the word caesura, but the word " incision " can-
not be properly so used.
Dr. Carus misunderstands my statement regarding his dispo-
sition to make hexameters whether the original lines were hex-
ameters or not. I meant that the upper line of the distich, while
it should be an hexameter, was often lame and imperfect, and I said
in effect that Dr. Carus strove to make hexameters whether the
originals were true ones or not, and that in doing so he not seldom
added expressions for which there was no warrant. The meaning
of this he distorts to an amusing extent.
I mentioned the first and thirteenth of the distichs as exam-
ples of translations which seemed to me imperfect and not seldom
unworthy. I should have said "the first (commencing with those
written by Goethe and Schiller) and the thirteenth, as well as the
one addressed to the Muse, are inadequate translations." That I
did not express this clearly I am conscious, and regret that as a
result Dr. Carus was led to reproduce the wrong distichs except
in one case — that of the one addressed to the Muse. Examina-
tion will, I feel sure, prove the justice of my criticism of these
three distichs.
A translator must be thoroughly conversant with the
resources of a language ere so difficult a thing as the translation
of poetry into it may be attempted, and he who essays to do this
work may be sure that in no other way can he so easily evince his
wealth or poverty of ability as a translator.
Let me say again that I regret the necessity of writing this
second letter; but feeling that to some extent I was misunder-
stood and this misrepresented, I have treated the subject
again and at this length. I am unambitious of continuing the
discussion, and I trust that in this, my last word, enough truth is
expressed to justify me in the position which r have taken.
W. F. Barnard.
CONCLUDING COMMENTS BY DR. CARUS.
I received instead of an apology a defense of Mr. Barnard's
criticism, and will again take the trouble of patiently pointing
out its errors.
My words, "The Xenions are imitations of a Roman poet's
verses," are a condensation of a longer passage in my essay.
The fact is, Greek literature had become so fashionable in Rome
that the Roman poets abandoned their old style and introduced
Greek measures. Martial selected for his Xenions the Greek
distich, and Schiller and Goethe when imitating him, selected
the distich also, which, unobjectionably, remains Greek in this
and any other instance.
The reason now presented in defense of "foot" for "meter"
is true only so far as some English prosodists use the terms foot
and meter as synonyma. Whenever they do, they merely prove
476
THE OPEN COURT.
that they are not well informed. The confusion which prevails
on this subject among lexicographers is an excuse to any other
man, but it is no apology for the scholar and still less for the
critic who means to censure others.
Concerning the use of foreign terms, it is advisable to omit
them in popular essays, but it is quite consistent with this rule to
use them whenever necessary. Consistency is a test of truth,
and it is consistent to say, if cxsuras are divisions of a line of verse,
and if, also, feet are "the divisions of a line of verse," that
caesuras are feet. Such is the consequence of looseness in
expression.
In regard to the ca-sura of the hexameter I brierlv repeat, as
there are many different caesuras we can not put the ca-sura in a
schedule of an hexameter, and if I had put in a (viz., any) ca-sura,
it would have been misleading. I omitted many more things of
no less importance than the caesuras of the hexameter. My not
mentioning them is by no means equivalent to a declaration that
they do not exist.
I am now told that my "disposition to make hexameters" (viz.i
true hexameters) is the reason why, as stated in the criticism'
"faithfulness to the text must be sacrificed as a result;" viz. faith-
fulness in reproducing the deficiencies of the originals. Any
amusement which can be derived from this new idea of faithful-
ness is entirely at Mr. Barnard's expense.
As Mr. Barnard apparently misapplied the word "division," I
advised him to consult English dictionaries. However, he should
not resort to Webster's authority for an explanation of the Latin
words arsin-a and ccedere. The word ccedere, " to cut," was origi-
nally used for cutting down trees as we may judge from its ety-
mology. Ccedere is derived from cadere " to fall " and means " to
make fall," cadere is the causitive verb of cadere. They are
related to each other as in English " to fall " and " to fell," or as
"to sit" and "to set," and in German fallen and fallen. Ca-sura
originally means a cutting down, and then any cutting or a cut-
ting oil. "Incision" would be a free translation which suits the
occasion and which for our purpose is as literal as it can be. The
English word " incision " is derived from the same root as
" ca-sura," lor it is the Latin incisio which was originally iiictrsio.
Incisiois the act of cutting, while ccesnra means the cut produced.
The English might have formed the word " ctesure " from cresura,
but they did not. So is happens that for a translation of "caesura"
we have to resort to its cousin-word (it is rather its nephew)
" incision."
Must I add that "division " belongs to quite another province
of words, being derived from the Latin divisio? It is a separation
much more comparable to a selection by choice or to the sifting in
a sieve. Before the division the parts may have been intermingled.
That incision and division can sometimes besynonyma is a matter
of course.
I quote the distichs to which Mr. Barnard refers above:
Im Hexameter steigt des Springquells flussige Saule,
Im Pentameter drauf Fallt sie melodisch herab.
In the hexameter rises the jet of a wonderful fountain,
Which then gracefully back In the pentameter falls.
The following distich is addressed to Science:
Einem ist sie die hohe, die himmlische Gottin, dem anderen
1st sie die milchende Kuh, Die ihn mit Butter versorgt.
Science to one is the Goddess, majestic and lofty,— to th' other
She is a cow who supplies Butter and milk for his home.
of Christianity," "The Causes of the Present Condition of
Women," " Heathen and Christian Superstition," etc. She
may be addressed care of Fritz Schiitz, editor of Rundschau,
New Ulm, Minnesota.
BOOK REVIEWS.
Mrs. Hedwig Ileinrich-Wilhelmi, a writer of ability, is
expected to arrive this fall in New York, and to lecture before the
Turners and other German freethinkers, on such subjects as
" Moral Responsibility," " Cremation," " Origin and Working
Journal d'uk Piiilosophe. Par Lucicn Arriat. Paris: FeMix
Alcan, 108 Boulevard Saint-Germain. 1887.
This handsomely printed volume is a medley of essays and
letters, in all numbering forty-seven, dealing with all sorts of
questions in literature, art, education, ethics and theology, but
treating of philosophy too briefly and superficially to justify the
title, especially as the most prominent of the two imaginary
authors, who are here represented as interchanging their thoughts,
portraj s himself as much more of a botanist than a metaphysician.
He gives to the collection what little unity it possesses, by telling
how he wins a lady whose only objection to marrying him is that
her brother has been dishonest, and she has made up her mind o
expiate his crime, and keep the disgrace within the family, by
marrying a cousin whom she does not care for. Her name, Mile.
B., is also given to a much gentler character, one of several imag-
inary types of womanhood, and not a very high one. That any
real lover could have thus taken in vain the name of his mistress
is so incredible, that this circumstance works with others to justify
the suspicion that the collection has been made up hastily, and
mainly from materials written long before. The essay just
referred to, that on "The Genius of Women," is much the longest
in the volume; and' the central idea is, that whatever a woman
may be otherwise, she is universally and characteristically a
mother, and either wishes to be one or else regrets that she is not.
"Some women," he adds, " have a foolish ambition for escaping
from the rule of their sex. Is it worth while to spoil one's true
genius without succeeding in stripping off one's nature? Can we
suppose that evolution has been artificial as regards one sex in all
places and since the beginning of time?" If M. Arre'at were to
visit America, he would see that one of the noblest results of
evolution has been the emancipation of women. His conclusions
are never revolutionary ; and he usually does not reach any, but
drops a subject almost as soon as he takes it up. Two of these
flashes of criticism are called out by M. Guyau, whose IrreligionoJ
the Future has already been noticed incidentally in The Open
Court. "You have without doubt, read the last book of M.
Guyau," writes one friend to the other. "This distinguished phi-
losopher announces the end of positive religions and forms of
worship. I, too, think that the man of the future will not be the
religious man of the past; and a scientific conception has long
ago taken the place of the ancient doctrines in my thoughts. But
I consider that this great novelty of a society without a church
involves two hypotheses, that of the unlimited progress of the
race, and that of an equality of intellectual growth among all
classes in society. But the irreligion, in which many are at
present, is far from being a permanent and proper moral condi-
tion; and the masses may perhaps, find a philosophy capable not
only of satisfying their hopes of a religion, but of fulfilling its
office of moral discipline, take shape amid strange vicissitudes."
More valid is the objection that the theory of "one of our most
distinguished philosophers, M. Guyau," that art is a stimulus of
life which produces pleasure, does not account for the fact that
artistic beauty is always the result of some special kind of artistic
industry. The literary criticisms are the best part of the work;
but on the whole it is too much like those collections of letters
addressed to no one in particular, which were formerly produced
in great numbers in this country and England, but speedily found
their way to the dead letter office of literary history. F. M. H.
The Open Court.
A Fortnightly Journal,
Devoted to the Work of Establishing Ethics and Religion Upon a Scientific Basis.
Vol. I. No. 18.
CHICAGO, OCTOBER 13, 1887.
! Three Dollars per Year.
Single Copies, 15 cts.
THE STRONGHOLD OF THE CHURCH.
BY COL. T. W. HIGGINSON.
Those who can look back over that half century
whose progress has been, according to G. J. Holyoake,
equivalent to a peaceful revolution, have had the oppor-
tunity to learn some lessons. One of these is that a
revolution, however great, is apt to come out in a differ-
ent shape from that predicted by the revolutionists.
Changes occur, but not just the changes anticipated.
Emerson declared, forty years ago, that what hold the
popular faith had upon the people was "gone or going."
He asked why we should drag the dead weight of the
Sunday school over the globe — and lived to see his own
daughter holding a Sunday school for little Arab chil-
dren on the Nile. Reformers predicted the decay of
church buildings and the cessation of the clergy ; but I
suppose that there never was a decennial period when
so many or so costly churches were erected in America
as within the last ten years, culminating in a proposed
Protestant cathedral at New York, which is to cost ten
millions. There has undoubtedly been a diminution in
the relative number of clergymen proceeding from our
older colleges, but there are enough still to fill the pul-
pits, whencesoever they come; and those who visit
Trinity Church in Boston or St. George's Church in New
York cannot doubt that eloquent preachers yet have
power to draw audiences. The number of people who
habitually absent themselves from church may be very
large; and the average congregation may be somewhat
smaller than formerly; but there are surely no external
indications of approaching decay.
The spirit of Emerson's predictions has vindicated
itself, not in any outward wrecking of the Church, but
in its inward remoulding. The reason why so many
well-meant attacks upon it fall unheeded is because
reformers persist in attacking the Church of fifty years
ago, which does not now exist, instead of recognizing
the changed condition of the new one. They treat the
modern edifice, past which a hundred young men ride
unmolested on bicycles every Sunday, as if it were the
old one with a constable at each door. Doctrines and
habits are altered, but it proves the strength of the
organization when it thus changes front, as Major
Anderson was stronger by abandoning Fort Moultrie
and falling back on Fort Sumter. The question is
whether the party of attack is destined to be as persist-
ent and flexible as the party of defence?
When we ask what is the secret of the present
strength of the Church, I think we must find it in this —
that the Church has to a great extent abandoned the
attitude of grimness and moroseness, and has substituted
in its place the doctrine of human happiness. Formerly
people went to church and held to religion, for the most
part, not because they enjoyed it, but because they thought
it their duty ; if they did not enjoy it, this proved it all the
more to be their duty. It is a great transformation.
Young people in growing up now find a pleasure in the
religion that is presented to them; things unattractive are
by general consent laid aside; revivalists rely on love,
rather than on fear. No matter how utterly inconsist-
ent all this may be with creeds and traditions, it is done.
Church-parlors are annexed to " the sacred edifice," and
there is provision for stewed oysters and ice-cream ;
the children are provided with " flower concerts " in
summer and with "Christmas trees" in winter; the
whole flavor of the institution is altered; it is concilia-
tory and not denunciatory, and meets people half way.
But when the Church is once willing to do this,
and to trust to honey rather than vinegar for the catch-
ing of its flies, it has certain immense advantages as com-
pared with the current forms of opposition. Two things
it has to offer of especial value to the average human
heart — the belief in immortality and the belief in the
personal providence or guidance of the Deity. I am
not speaking now of the truth of these doctrines, but of
their attractiveness. It is generally admitted among those
who disbelieve in personal immortality, for instance,
that the belief in it, if separated from all questions of
future penalties, makes men happier. It is rare to find
a parent, by a child's deathbed, who actually prefers to
think of that child as annihilated; and so on with the
other affectionate relations of life. Now, the assurance
of immortality is the very thing which the Church under-
takes to give; no other organization attempts, officially,
as it were, to give it, except that movement known as
Spiritualism, and this in turn offers so much which seems
improbable or incredible that the "scientific" mind
commonly finds it even harder to embrace Spiritualism
than Christianity. It has always seemed to me that
atheism could make out as good a case, in respect to
morals and philanthropy, as the Christian faith ; but it
47§
THE OPEN COURT.
certainly does not secure so much happiness, so far as
the faith in immortality is needful to happiness. " It
may be " can never be quite so comforting to the
bereaved heart as "It is;" and the Church, which gives
this positive assurance — no matter whether it be done
with or without reason— will always have a certain hold
on those who find in happiness " our being's end and
aim."
So in regard to personal guidance by a superintend-
ing power. To many the feeling of a special providence
outlasts all traces of other theological tradition ; and even
Emerson held to it on the spiritual side when he said:
" There is no bar or wall in the soul where God, the
cause, and man, the effect, begins," and added : " We lie
open on one side to all the depths of infinite being." In
the sense of practical guardianship one would think that
this confidence must soon yield to the actual experiences
of life. I never heard a more thrilling piece of oratory
than when Charles Bradlaugh, in his own London
lecture- room, described to a great audience the position
of a shipwrecked mother, praying God to save her child
and holding the baby higher and higher in her arms
until the relentless waves submerged both at last. But
the faith in an inward guide outlasts that in outward prov-
idences, and adapts itself to pantheism as well as theism,
though not to atheism, and scarcely even to agnosticism;
and it moreover equalizes all conditions and sends peace
through the whole being.
" I would not care how low my fortunes were
Might but my hopes still be, what now they are,
Of help divine, nor care how poor I be,
If thoughts, yet present, might abide with me:
For they have left assurance of such aid w
That I am of no dangers now afraid."
All the world over, in every form of faith, we find
sweet and beautiful souls who have this kind of happi-
ness. Goethe himself, in his " Confessions of a Fair
Saint," has drawn such a type. Whatever fine types the
anti-religious attitude can produce, it can never yield
precisely this.
The stronghold of the Church therefore lies in this,
that — whatever may have been the case formerly — it
now gives, or is supposed to give, more happiness than
is found among its opponents. This, and not any mere
superstition, is what has got to be overcome or super-
seded if men would do away with the Church, or with
what it represents, religion. It is not enough to show that
the intellect of the world or its morals or its mutual
benevolence will be as effectual without religion as with
it; the mass of men, by our own showing, seek happi-
ness, and we have got to convince them that they will be
happier without it. Can we fairly say that we have yet
met the Church on this ground? To some extent we
may have; the effect of the transcendentalism of Emer-
son, and certainly of Parker, was to make men happy;
but we can hardly expect to win the universe through
its love of happiness by a good deal that now passes for
science. There is certainly something very curious
about a religious doctrine which tries to win the young
heart by singing "There is a Fountain Filled with
Blood;" but is it any improvement to try to win it by
books entitled " The Martyrdom of Man"? Which is
the higher pursuit, that of truth or of happiness, I will
not undertake to say; nor is there to my own mind any
necessary antagonism between them! Having always
been a theist and a believer in immortality, I am not
speaking for my own case; nor is my own personal
sympathy with the Church, or conscious need of it, any
greater than before. But when asked whether religion
without science or science without religion makes men
happier in the trials and bereavements of life, I fear that
it is necessary, up to this point, to concede to religion a
slight advantage. This advantage, slight though it be,
is the stronghold of the Church ; and I for one am wait-
ing, with the . profoundest interest, to see how human
evolution adapts itself to the situation. That all will
come right in the end is my strongest conviction.
A MISCONCEPTION OF IDEALISM.
BY W. M. SALTER.
In speaking of a misconception of idealism it would
be franker, perhaps, to say that I mean a misconception
of what I understand to be idealism. There are doubt-
less other uses of the word than mine; and others who
seem to me to be extravagant and uncritical in their
thinking may have the same right to be called idealists
that I have. Every one must use words as he himself
understands them and it is only incumbent upon him to
be self-consistent in doing so. I need not explain that it
is philosophical rather than ethical idealism that I have
in mind. All systems of ethics, no matter how other-
wise contradictory they may be, are ideal — for they all
try to indicate to man what he should, do, rather than
what he does. But philosophical idealism may be held
and may be rejected by those who have, perhaps, equal
right to be called philosophers.
By idealism I mean the doctrine that the material
world about us is reducible to sensations. This world
has then an existence not in itself, but in our minds —
" our minds " being a general expression for sentient
subjects of any sort, whether animal or human. The
course of reasoning is a simple one. It has been stated
by Huxley in his essays on Descartes and on Berkeley.
Helmholtz is an equally notable defender of idealism in
Germany. Herbert Spencer has given it a masterly
exposition in his Psychology. If I may be pardoned
self-mention in such illustrious company, I may say that
I have sought to give an entirely popular and untech-
nical statement of the idealist doctrine in the Journal
of Speculative Philosophy, for July and October, 1SS4.
THE OPEN COURT.
479
The question is, what do we mean by saying an apple is
sweet or sour, an orange is fragrant, a rose is yellow or
red, and so on? What is sweetness, or fragrance, or
color? If one stops to think for a moment and has no
prepossessions to serve, but simply interrogates his own
consciousness, he is very apt to answer that sweetness is
a taste, a feeling, a sensation or experience which he has
or may have. And he may say the like of fragrance —
that a delicious smell is an experience or feeling, rather
than anything separable from himself. It is not diffi-
cult to realize the same of sound; it is a sensation of ours,
which something without us causes, but which is itself
an impression upon us. One may even come to feel the
same to be true of color. And it is plainly true, if one
stops but for a moment to seriously reflect, of weight.
Let any one ask himself what he means by calling a
body heavy — and he can only say that heaviness is some-
thing he distinctly feels; so that if he lifts a bod}' with
a strong sensation of that sort he calls it heavy, and if
with little or none, he calls it light. If I and everybody
else could lift a forty-pound stone as easily as I lift a
feather, it would scarcely mean anything to say that it
weighed forty pounds. That is, all these qualities of
matter (and these are about all there are, unless hard-
ness and softness, resistance, solidity, are reckoned dis-
tinct qualities — and in any case, they are no less reduci-
ble than the rest to sensations*) are really experiences
of ours. Of course, we do not produce them; they are
produced in us, they come to us from without; but still
they are (whatever their causes may be) our own impres-
sions, and were we not alive nor other beings like our-
selves, they could not be said, in strictures, to exist. A
pain without somebody to feel it would be, as every-
body would say, an absurdity; idealism adds that odors
that nobody smells and tastes that nobody experiences
and colors that nobody perceives and sounds that nobody
hears and weights and resistances that nobody feels are
unmeaning, though the sources whence these sensations
come to us may well exist outside of us, and indeed must,
if our causal instinct has any validity. These different
sensations grouped, arranged in time and space, make up
the objects and intelligible order of the world. Our sensa-
tions, strictlv speaking, are limited to the present moment,
but by virtue of memory and imagination and thought,
we can picture to ourselves the past and probable future
of the world as well, and distant objects as well as those
in the immediate horizon. The past means what we
should have experienced, had we been living, or what
perhaps others have experienced; the future means what
* It may have to be admitted (I do not say it does) that form and shape
and extension are not sensations: yet if so, it is probable that the form of an
apple, for example, means the limits of certain sensations in space, just as the
duration of any material object may mean the limits of certain sensations in
time. Prof. William James holds in recent articles ("The Perception of
Space," and "The Perception of Time," in the Mind, 1SS7, and the Journal of
Speculative Philosophy, October, 1SS6, respectively) that space and time are
themselves elements of sensations.
we should experience could we live on, or what others
possibly will experience.-
Such, very brief!}' and imperfectly stated, is what 1
understand by idealism. It is opposed to materialism, it
is opposed to what is ordinarily called realism. Real-
ism holds that material objects are real things outside of
us and existing entirely independently of our sensibility ;
it is simply the instinctive, uncritical way we all have of
thinking. The idealist starts from it, but by a little
closer scrutiny discovers, as he thinks, that the apple
and the orange and the rose and the tree and the earth
and the stars are simply so many groups of sensations,
and that the real outside things are not these, but some-
thing else which gives them to our minds. Idealism is
not inconsistent with a deeper realism; but, if I am not
mistaken, absolutely implies it.
And now for the misconception of the idealistic
position. It is that according to idealism the material
world is the creation of our minds, and so an illusion.
This is the most common notion, perhaps, of the mean-
ing of idealism. It must be admitted that the average
man has some reason for so thinking, for not only do
learned critics of the doctrine so represent it, but idealists
themselves have so reasoned and written. A valued
contributor to the old Index, Mr. L. G.Janes, once said
there that it was "the favorite postulate of the idealist
that matter, the external universe, is an illusion, a sub-
jective creation of the mind." The able and conscien-
tious explorer of primitive Christian history, Judge
Waite, of Chicago, in addressing the Philosophical
Societv some years ago, considered " no skepticism so
complete and overwhelming as that of the idealist," and
the universe of the idealist seemed to him "a most
stupendous delusion." Professor Fisher, of Vale, a
most discriminating and candid writer, identified some
time ago in the Princeton Review, idealism with the
doctrine that sense-perception is due exclusively to the
mind's own nature and "is elicited by no external
object." Even our Coryphaeus in philosophy, Dr.
Montgomery, speaks (in a late number of The Open-
Court) of the "teaching of idealistic thinkers, who
deny altogether the existence of anything but mind and
its various modes." Turning to those who are them-
selves idealists, we find Mr. W. I. Gill, as acute a
writer as The Index ever possessed, saying that the
phenomena of the external world are not only modes
of the mind, but "evolved from the mind;" that the
ego is "their grand central source and cause" as well as
subject. Lange seems to give countenance to the same
notion when he says: "Das Auge mit dem wir zu sehen
glauben ist selbst nur ein Product unserer Vorstellung "
(the eye by which we suppose that we see is itself only
a product of our thought). Wundt calls our " ganze
AutTassung der Aussenwelt " an " Erzeugniss unseres
eigenen Bewusstseins," though he allows that in some
480
THE OPEN COURT.
sense things exist independently of us, and so suggests
that one may make misleading statements which cover
no real misconception. Emerson, after Fichte and the
other intellectual giants of Germany in the early part of
this century, speaks of material things as "visions
merely, wonderful allegories, significant pictures of the
laws of the mind." It should he confessed, however,
as Mr. Edwin D. Mead has pointed out with reference
to Fichte, that the external world, according to this
philosopher, is not posited merely by the individual
man, but by the world-spirit through him, so that in one
sense its cause is outside of him; and this holds true of
Hegel and of Emerson, and something like this may be
the thought of Mr. Gill.
Now all this may be idealism ; it is, perhaps, not
inconsistent with idealism ; but it is not necessary to ideal-
ism, and it is inconsistent with idealism as I understand
it. Because the grass and the trees and the sky are
mental experiences, it does not follow that I give them
to myself. Not only have I no consciousness of doing
so, but I seem to be distinctly conscious that I do not
produce them, but rather meet with them ; they happen
to me, they are given to me, and because I do not know
what or who the giver is, makes no difference as to this
primary consciousness. It is this consciousness, I am
persuaded, that is at the root of the firm conviction of
most people that the material world exists outside them ;
it does so exist, in the sense that its cause or causes do,
and that our coming and going, our seeing and not see-
ing, our even living or not living, has nothing to do
with these causes, but only with their effects upon our-
selves. There is no sound without some one to hear it;
but if one does not hear it, the cause of the sound may
exist all the same. There is no weight without some
one to feel it; but that which predetermines the possi-
bility of such a sensation is not affected at all by the fact
that we not have it. If there is no mirror there is no
reflection; but the mirror is not the cause of the re-
flection— or, at least, the whole cause. The inference
is all but irresistible that there is something outside us,
which produces the sensations within us. It is true that
thought and the categories of thought may do much,
and much more than we ordinarily think, in giving
shape to the various objects of the material world, in
making them objects as distinct from scattered sensa-
tions and in tracing the so-called laws of matter. Never-
theless there is something thought cannot do; it cannot
give us a sensation or the rudiments of one; it cannot
produce the faintest smell or the feeblest sound ; these
have to come, they cannot be created — though we may
indeed learn the laws of their coming and so have them,
to a certain degree, at pleasure. Sensations are an irref-
ragable proof that there is something else besides our-
selves in the world, call it, picture it, think it what we
will.
The world is not illusory, not a creation of our own.
It is our world and has no meaning apart from us or
from beings like us, yet it is given us; and though the
sources or givers are beyond our eyes, they are, and
they alone truly are. We pass and the world passes;
they abide There is a sober, critical, I might almost
say, scientific idealism, as well as an imaginative and
extravagant one.
ARE WE PRODUCTS OF MIND?
BY EDMUND MONTGOMERY, M.D.
Part 111.
U hv mind cannot control body.
I wish Professor Cope had read the series of papers
in which I endeavor to explain the relation of mental
realization to objective reality. It is doubtful, however,
whether this would have shaken his faith in materialistic
or tridimentional realism, and thus helped to give him a
more favorable opinion of the "problem of cognition,"
which, according to his present conviction, leads to
"mere verbal quibbling."
Nevertheless, it is quite incontestable, that — as re-
vealed by the "problem of cognition" — the relativity of
knowledge, disclosing the mental constitution of all our
perceptions and conceptions, has to be taken as a
truth infinitely more certain, than any materialistic
ontology conceived regardless of this same "prob-
lem of cognition." A scientist, who enters into' specu-
lations about the relation of mind to organization and to
nature in general, cannot venture to ignore this funda-
mental philosophical insight, and yet expect his theories
to come out all right. It is quite impossible to construct
a correct view of nature, and especially of the relation
of mind to non-mental reality, without having realized
this most immediate of all truths; viz. that the world is
revealed to us in the medium of our own individual, con-
sciousness, which can consist of nothing but mental
modes.
This once understood, it becomes evident that non-
mental reality is inferred and not immediately given;
and that the immediately given facts, from which object-
ive reality is thus inferentially constructed, are those
compulsory perceptions:, which arise in us through sense-
stimulation. We experience, as immediately given in
this way, perceptions only. These we interpret accord-
ing to their relation to previous experience, which
experience is likewise of mental consistency. It is, con-
sequently, not so self-evident as Professor Cope imag-
ines, that mind is a property of matter. It is, on the
contrary, certain that what we realize as matter — namely
all sensibly perceived qualities of a supposed objective
substratum — are our own mental states, presented in
our own individual space-perception. Our individual
realization of matter consists thus altogether of con-
scious states. And how can we then correctly attribute
THE OPEN COURT.
l8i
as property of such mentally constituted matter, the
very mental stuff of which it consists? How can our
mind or consciousness be a property of some of its own
mental or conscious percepts? Surely, a thing, or exis-
tent of whatever kind, cannot possibly be a property of
some part of itself.
If Professor Cope had come, in conformity with
most thinkers, to lose his primitive faith in the existence
outside his consciousness of that very same material and
tridimentional world, which he evidently only knows as
phenomenon within his consciousness, he would have
found it a rather perplexing task to recognize rightly
the veritable nature of objective reality and its relation
to mind.
The ever recurring philosophical question here is
whether, as the entire given content of consciousness is
undoubtedly of mental consistency, reality itself may
not be altogether a creation of mind; or, in other words,
whether thought may not be identical with being? If
this is denied, then it has to be positively shown why
we have a right to assume that "being" or "reality "
subsists in all verity in the form of non-mental existents
beyond our own percepts.
To gain firm ground amid these idealistic quicksands'
where " the feet sink at every step," it is of the utmost
consequence clearly to recollect that we have real expe-
rience of mind only in connection with living organisms,
and that the higher the organism, the higher also its mind.
Sundry attempts scientifically and philosophically to ex-
plain these empirically given facts have led me to the con-
clusion that mind is in verity a forceless outcome of vital
organization; and not, vice versa, organization a product
of mental power. Perceptions, memories, thoughts,
volitions, as mental phenomena, I hold to be outcomes
of vital organization. And I do not hold that vital
organization is, vice versa, a construction effected by the
mental or conscious quality of such phenomena as per-
ceptions, memories, thoughts and volitions. Far from
believing that it is " absurd " to think that what we know
as consciousness is, and has always been, confined to the
narrow limits of vital organization, it seems to me on
the contrary a most unwarranted and entirely unverified
assumption to maintain that consciousness exists any-
where unconnected with vital organization. For, it is
quite certain, that in actual nature we find consciousness
in all its modifications wholly and strictly dependent on
specific organization, and occurring in direct experience
nowhere without it. My biological knowledge, both
physiological and pathological, has rendered it indeed
utterly impossible for me to imagine any kind of con-
sciousness detached from vital organization.
Professor Cope believes that we can arrive at true
conclusions concerning reality simply by following the
method of objective science, which trusts fully the testi-
mony of our senses, confining itself altogether to sensibly
"observed phenomena as foundation materials." He
says: "In our modern observations of natural phenom-
ena we have not only the mutual aid rendered by one
sense to another, but the corroborative evidence of
numerous and intelligent co-workers."
This probing of natural phenomena by aid of the
senses is indeed the true method of investigation where
we have to deal with perceptible or so-called -physical
phenomena. But when mental phenomena are thought
to interfere in the perceptible or physical nexus, how are
we to ascertain this alleged fact of interaction by the
method of sensible observation ? It is quite evident that
mental phenomena cannot themselves be observed in the
same manner as physical phenomena.
Here we have unquestionably arrived at the point
where the method of objective observation completely
forsakes us. We are compelled to call in the aid of
introspection, and the aid also of a theory of cognition,
which attempts to harmonize the two different positions;
that of objective observation and that of mere inner
or subjective awareness.
Professor Cope, beholding the designed volitional
movements of animal organisms, feels convinced that
they are not mechanically effected ; that they are cen-
trally originated by quite another mode of efficiency.
I entirely agree with him. I am no less convinced of
the hyper-mechanical nature of these movements and of
their central origin. But through what kind of efficiency
do they derive their specific character? Professor Cope
says through consciousness. I say through centrally
established organization. And in favor of this latter
view it must be admitted, and is indeed unhesitatingly
admitted by Professor Cope, that such movements,
seemingly impelled by consciousness, can be and often
are in reality and at present the outcome of consciousless
organization; while, on the other hand, we have no evi-
dence of any kind positively to show that consciousness
is anywhere in nature a power capable of moving mat-
ter. Indeed, a close and critical examination of the
given state of things renders it obvious that conscious-
ness itself can never become such a moving power; for
it turns out to be itself in its very existence and in all
its manifold modifications strictly dependent on specific
constitution and on specific activities of the manifesting
substance.
Still, I fully concede that it intuitively appears to us,
as if our voluntary actions were performed, not only
in concomitance with consciousness, but under its con-
trol. And this is so for a similar reason to that which
makes it intuitively appear to us as if the world within
our own individual preception were in all verity the
real objective world. We know, namely, our body,
like all other things, only as it is revealed to us in our
individual consciousness, not as it exists independently
of this conscious realization. In performing voluntary
4S2
THE OPEN COURT.
movements we ideally realize the central process as
what we call ideational forecast and volitional flat; and
thereupon sensibly perceive the peripheral outcome as
movement of our body. We are at once inwardly con-
scious of the so-called volitional part of voluntary move-
ment, while we experience its motor part only after-
ward through the roundabout way of sensory percep-
tion. These two facts are both facts within our con-
sciousness; though the first of them is introspectively
realized, while the other is or can be realized objectively
by means of the senses. We have an immediate inner
experience of the central activity, but a mediate sense-
stimulated experience of the peripheral activity.
Now, as we are not in the least conscious of the
organic process, which in reality connects the brain-
function with the distant muscular function, such
objectively perceptible muscular function naturally
appears as a strange and yet actual outcome of what is
introspectively realized as ideal conception and volun-
tary impulse. We are aware that the central process
and its peripheral outcome are certainly in some way
connected with each other. And though we realize the
central process only through introspection as an ideal
experience, while the peripheral outcome is, on the
contrary, realized through the senses as perceptual
movement, we feel strongly impelled to take for granted
that this extrinsically awakened perception of ours is
indeed the direct effect of the intrinsic ideas and feel-
ings. It seems to us as if our mentally experienced
volition were indeed the actual cause of the movement
perceived as a sequent of it. It is, however, obviously
absurd to believe that an inner idea or feeling of ours
can be the efficient cause of a perception awakened
in us through our senses by external stimulation, emana-
ting from the non-mental existent known as our body.
VVhen we see an arm moving, though this percep-
tion is undoubtedly a conscious state of ours, we are
nevertheless convinced that there is a real organic
existent — a real arm — subsisting outside our consciousness
and performing the veritable act, which we perceive as
movement. This firm conviction, that a veritable extra-
conscious or physical existent is compelling its presenta-
tion in consciousness, attaches to all our sense-stimulated
percepts. It is not so with our intrinsically arising ideas
and feelings, with our emotions, thoughts and volitions.
We do not refer them in the same way to the compelling
presence of some extra-conscious existent. They seem,
on the contrary, to our introspective view, to be entirely
self-subsisting, to be floating self-made in a medium of
their own. That this is altogether an illusion, that they
are likewise the outcome of the activity of a definite,
extra-conscious existent, can be positively and most dis-
tinctly realized by an observer, who is in a position
actually to perceive the organ of whose activity they
are the outcome.
The above considerations render clear, that nothing
in introspective consciousness can possibly be the verit-
able cause of those perceptual movements which
become conscious to us through sense- stimulation
effected by the external existent known as our body.
It is, indeed, the activity of a certain definitely percep-
tible organ of this same body which gives rise to the
introspectively realized ideas and feelings, initiating
also the complex and specific stimulation, whose periph-
eral outcome is perceived as purposive movement.
To the dreaming subject the vivid and complex con-
scious states, which make up the eventful phantasma-
goria he is witnessing, seem to be altogether self-sus-
tained, emanating from no organic matrix. But no
scientific philosopher doubts at present that the deter-
mining condition of this phantasmal display consists
really in a most definite functional brain-activity. Such
dependence of the inner conscious experience upon an
organic process is as certain a scientific fact as any other
well-ascertained dependence in nature. And are not the
intelligent gestures and vocal sounds, accompanying the
inner vision of the dreamer, likewise an outcome of the
same organic brain-activity, which is disclosing itself as
intensely significant also to his ideal sight? Can any
one seriously believe that it is, for instance, a mentally
constituted enemy, whom the deluded sleeper is seeing
so distinctly approaching in his inner field of vision, or
the ideal forecast of the ingenious way he is determin-
ing to encounter him, or, indeed, anything else con-
sciously present in his dream, which is setting his motor
brain-molecules designedly vibrating, so that their prop-
agated activity will give rise to those expressive move-
ments of his features and arms, and to the still more
expressive movements of his vocal cords, which appear
to the beholder and listener "saturated with intelli-
gence"? Surely all phenomena here present, whether
introspectively realized as ideal perceptions, thoughts and
volitions, or objectively apprehended as purposive
movements and intelligent speech, are alike due to the
play of centrally organized powers.
It is, then, obviously no self-subsisting idea or feeling
which gives rise to what we perceive as purposive move-
ments, but a genuine organic process taking place in
what is most distinctly perceptible as the brain of the
subject, who erroneously believes his ideas and feelings
to be self-subsisting, and on the strength of this illusion
takes them for the veritable cause of these purposive
movements of his.
Every definite conscious volition rests on a definite
conscious forecast of the act to be performed, in its rela-
tion to the specific medium in which it is to be performed,
and to the peculiar end which is thereby to be attained.
All this ideal play is admitted to be strictly dependent
on previously organized experience. Therefore, the
consciousness, imagined to set going such a definite
THE OPEN COURT.
4*3
concatenation of organic efficiencies, can be figured only
as an outside agent playing upon their springs of action,
as a performer plays upon a musical instrument, or a
telegraph operator upon his machine.
So antiquated a way of imagining the relation of
consciousness to intelligent vital function is, however,
not Professor Cope's way. He believes some unspecial-
ized, hyper-organic will-power to create for the execu-
tion of designed aims new specific energies, which force
unformed material within the central organ to assume
those special modes of motion, which propagated to the
peripheral organs, issue as purposive movements. In
this case the definite conscious forecast, with a full
knowledge of the organic instrument to be used, of the
medium in which it is to be used, and of the aim to be
accomplished, would have to belong to the performing
unspecialized will-power, which would then evidently
be an omniscient, transcendent power using us organic
individuals as mere passive tools for its own aims.
PROMETHEUS UNBOUND.
BY F. M. HOLLAND.
yEschylus told in "Prometheus Bound," that great
drama which has been translated admirably by Plumptre
and Mrs. Browning, how cruelly the ideal philanthro-
pist, who gave fire to mortals and taught them all other
useful knowledge, was tortured for refusing to help
Jupiter avert the doom which threatened to end his
guiltv reign. How righteous would have been the
destruction of the Olympian tyranny, is shown by the
presentation on the stage of poor Io, one of the many
victims of deified lust. This was not the first time that
the great conflict between morality and religion made
itself heard in literature. The Hebrew prophets had
already denounced the priests. yEschylus does not
appear to have done much more than state the problem.
He probably wrote three plays on this subject to be
acted successively the same day, according to custom;
but this is the only one that has come down to us; and
the series appears to have ended in a reconciliation.
Thus runs the legend of Prometheus, as universally
received in ancient Greece; and no other solution would
then have been tolerated. The hero who defies almighty
wrath so grandly in this drama could scarcely have sunk
to selling himself and all mankind as basely as he is
made to do by the mocking Lucian. Still there must
have been some sort of compromise, according to even
^Eschylus. The legend has also been treated of by
Hesiod, Goethe, Longfellow and Robert Browning.
Various myths about the theft of fire from the gods, by
some primitive friend of man, for instance the dog or
the spider, have been found among the Algonquins,
Australians, Bushmen, Finns, New Zealanders and other
savages. Shelley has not only told the story more
beautifully than any one else, but has been the only
great writer who has let it end as it should.
His " Prometheus Unbound " opens by showing the
champion of mankind, bound to the icy precipice, and
waiting calmly, as day breaks, for the destined hour
which shall free earth from the almighty Tyrant, who
gives her sons nothing better than fear, self-contempt
and barren hope, as a reward for prayer and praise, and
toil and hecatombs of broken hearts. So certain is the
deliverance that hatred of heaven's cruel King has
changed to pity; and Prometheus takes back the curse
which he pronounced long ago. He refuses to betray
the mighty secret with all the pride, but none of the
passion, portrayed by .Eschylus; and he is not punished
with the lightning and the vulture, as in the Greek
drama, but with revelations of the misery inflicted on
men by those who have tried to liberate them. The
furies show Jesus dying on the cross, with the result
that his name has become a curse, and those most like
him are hated and persecuted by his slaves. France,
too, is seen, hurled by her desire to establish truth,
freedom and brotherly love, into a chaos of fratricidal
bloodshed, ending in renewed slavery to tyrants.
Prometheus triumphs over the mocking furies, by the
firmness with which he declares that he pities every one
who does not sorrow with him over this misery, which
proves nothing except that the reign of superstition and
tyranny has become too wicked to endure. These
hopes are confirmed by the songs of friendly spirits,
who predict more successful revolutions, and show what
good has been already done by philosophy and poetry.
That same morning a sea nymph who loves Prome-
theus is guided by melodious voices down to the cave of
Demogorgon. This mysterious power, whose name
reminds us of that of Demiurge, given to the Creator
by the most liberal of the early Christians, appears as a
shapeless darkness. From within issues a voice declar-
ing that all good things are made by God. To repeated
questions who made madness, crime, self-contempt, fear
of hell and other evils, Demogorgon answers: "He
reigns." The nymph asks who, then, is to be called
God; but the reply is:
I spoke but as ye speak,
For Jove is the supreme of living things.
* * * A voice
Is wanting; the deep truth is imageless;
For what would it avail to bid thee gaze
On the revolving world? What to bid speak
Fate, Time, Occasion, Chance and Change? To these
All things are subject but Eternal Love.
After these words, reminding us of Shelley's belief
in "a pervading Spirit co-eternal with the universe,"
though not in " a creative Deity," Demogorgon
announces that the destined hour has come. The roof
of the cave is rent asunder, and the chariots of the
Hours are seen passing over. One, darker than all the
4§4
THE OPEN COURT.
rest, tarries to take up the terrible shadow and carry it
to heaven. There sits Jupiter, waiting for the mighty
offspring who is to help him trample out the last sparks
of doubt and insurrection among men. But Demogor-
gon is so terrible that Jupiter can only cry: "Awful
shape! what art thou?" The answer is:
Eternity! Demand no direr name.
Descend, and follow me down the abyss.
I am thy child, as thou wert Saturn's child;
Mightier than thee; and we must dwell together
Henceforth in darkness. Lift thy lightnings not.
The tyranny of heaven none may retain,
Or re-assume, or hold, succeeding thee.
Jupiter and Demogorgon sink together out of sight;
the reign of personal gods is ended; Prometheus is
unbound; and men are free forever. Speaker after
speaker then tells, sometimes in the most musical of
songs, how there will be no more wars; how all thrones
are kingless on earth as well as in heaven; how men
and women have ceased to fear, or hate, or scorn, or
deceive any one, and how man has become king over
himself,
Exempt from awe, worship, degree,
Man, one harmonious soul of many a soul,
Whose nature is its own divine control,
Where all things flow to all, as rivers to the sea.
Especially beautiful is the chorus of spirits who sing:
We come from the mind
Of human kind,
Which was late so dusk, and obscure, and blind.
* * * * * *
From those skyey towers
Where Thought's crowned powers
Sit watching your dance, ye happy Hours!
Shelley's faith in republicanism and hatred of anarch-
ism are not so plainly manifested in "Prometheus
Unbound" as in "The Revolt of Islam," "Hellas,"
"Ode to Liberty," and "The Masque of Anarchy;"
but this may be ascribed to the same sense of poetic
fitness which here fortunately kept his peculiar views
about marriage out of sight. His devotion to the cause
of political and intellectual freedom has been fully justi-
fied by many glorious victories, not only in England,
France and Italy, but in America, since the publication
of his greatest poem in 1S20. So much of the thor-
oughly good and radical work then called for in "Pro-
metheus Unbound " remains still undone, that we ought
to ask ourselves if we are not too easily satisfied with
what has been accomplished by our predecessors, and
too timid and slothful in carrying on the great war
against all tyranny and superstition. I, for one, cannot
rest silent, until I see Prometheus unbound as fully in
Russia, Ireland and Germany as in America, and until I
cease to hear, even in this most free of all countries, the
groans of the chained Titan still arising from suffragists
baffled by the apathy of the suppressed sex; from toilers
against intemperance, who find those who ought to help
them enforce the laws we have, care only for enacting a
law which we shall never really have except as a dead
letter; from labor reformers who see the workmen not
only help support the worst monopolies which the dark
ages have bequeathed us, but start a new one which
threatens beggary to ail those of their own class not
self-bound slaves to the caprices of despotic upstarts; and,
worst of all, from champions of free thought who find
the dungeons that have been broken open still full of
prisoners who prefer to stay there, and the fetters that
have been rent in twain busily refashioned into new
chains. We all need the faith of Prometheus in the
freedom which must surely come.
MONISTIC MENTAL SCIENCE.
THE EVOLUTION OF THE NERVES AND BRAIN.
BY S. V. CLEVENGER, 1U.D.
The brain and nervous system are generally regarded
as the centers of mind and sensation. The view is cor-
rect enough in one way and wholly erroneous in another,
for there are more animals without than with brains, or
even nervous systems, to whom mind and sensation can-
not properly be denied.
The protoplasmic amceba, that reduces the problems
of physiology to their simplest forms, is irritable.
Mechanical irritation, such as the prick of a pin, will
stimulate it to accelerated motion. Any living matter
that thus explodes energy when stimulated is said to be
" irritable." Irritability is the function most highly
developed in the nerves, especially the nerve centers,
and it is through the motions induced we have the only
objective evidence of sensation. If you prick a man and
he writhes, you surmise he has felt it; if he does not
move you do not know whether he felt the prick or not.
Contractions are very common manifestations of irrita- ,
bility, but so interchangeable are " vital " and physical
forces, sometimes the stimulus produces heat instead of
" vital " movements.
In the protoplasm, from which all the tissues pro-
ceed, reside the abilities of all those tissues. For
example, the nervous system is eminently irritable, the
muscles are eminently contractile; other organs have
developed special abilities, such as locomotory, prehen-
sile, gustatory, reproductory, respiratory. What was
possessed undifferentiated by the simple protoplasmic
cell has become separately the functions of particular
groups of cells. How this came about is the problem of
comparative physiology which the theory of evolution
is solving. The body and mind are too indissolubly
connected to admit of any psychology being other than
absurd if all physiological functions are not discussed ;
but the necessity for condensing compels us to skim over
some of the most interesting processes of development
with mere references.
The one-celled developed into the many-celled
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4S5
animal, the morula (Fig. 9) or mulberry form, because the
cells, instead of escaping, were bound together by an
outer membrane. The morula ate and grew, as did the
amoeba, only when it burst by repletion it liberated one-
celled animals that afterward became many-celled, simply
because the materials that composed the young were
split off, inherited, from the parent, and for purely
mechanical reasons the life history of parent anil offspring
would be the same.
The gastrula stage (Fig. 10) comes next when the
manv-celled animal, the mulberry form, collapsed and
formed a bag with a layer of cells inside and another
outside. This stage is represented by a vast number of
animals, such as the sea-anemones and worms.
£W!3®
Fig. o. Ki|T. 10.
Elongate the gastrula animal, and vou have the
worm shape. Gradual improvements occurred in some
of these forms, as favorable circumstances were encoun-
tered, and step bv step the rudimentary intestine devel-
ops a stomach and other subsidiary organs, as the habits
of the descendents change and adaptation is necessary.
Blood vessels appear, and their evolution can be easily
traced to the twisting of an artery upon itself to form a
heart, and further. Likewise the course of limb growth
through blunt projections, fins, up to wing or arm and
feet successively; the change of swimming bladder into
lungs and the advancement of protoplasm into cartilage
and some of the latter into bone, the passage also of
protoplasm cells into unstriped muscle cells, thence into
the striped muscles. All this came about through acci-
dent. The collapsed morula found it had a bag in
which albuminous substances could be held and digested
better. The cells that lined this bag as naturally and
readily developed into special eating cells as politicians
become thieves — through opportunity, ability and desire.
Special reproductory cells developed from the internal
sac. Every organ may be traced in its growth from the
egg (a single protoplasmic cell), and in its successive
modifications in series of animals succeeding one another
from the amoeba to the man.
That the feeling of love was derived from hunger,
and is identical with it in protozoa, can be explained here
only in a general way.* The folly of the metaphysical
*I condense from the article which first announced my theory, in Science
(S. Y.),June i, iSSi:
A paper on "Researches into the Life History of Monads," by Dallinger
and Drysdale, was read before the Royal Microscopical .Society, December 3,
1S73, wherein fissure of the monad was described as being preceded by the
absorption of one form by another. One monad would fix on the sarcode
of another, and with it coalesce. The large remaining monad would undergo
fission and multiplication. I.eidy asserts that the amoeba is a cannibal, where-
upon Michels {American "Journal of Microscopy, July, 1S77) infers that the
inonera and ameeba cannibalism is in furtherance of reproduction. It seems to
systems is evident in ignoring the bearings of this
most powerful sentiment, and its derivation, upon all life
relations.
The relativity of the terms excretion and secretion is
noticeable when we study how the cell groups live that
make up the body. One set of cells may be situated to
receive the unelaborated food, part of which it absorbs
and part passes through its cellular contents chang£d to
other conditions. This changed food becomes, per
force, that upon which the next set of cells thrive best,
and we may follow these changes from meat and vege-
tables ingested to the secretion of milk and tears.
Thus we are compelled to shamefully slur over the
grand stories biology has to tell in the endeavor to reach
the nervous system quickly. But perpetual reference to
the other organs must be made to apjjreciate, anything
like adequately, what the brain does.
We have seen that certain cells develop extraordi-
narily what primarily was the single-cell ability. From
the amoeba performing with its one little protoplasmic
dot all the life activities we have in the higher metazoa
intestinal cells that elaborate food and hold other activi-
ties in abeyance, muscle cells that contract to stimuli,
ovarian cells that centralize reproduction, lung cells that
are mainly respiratory ."j"
To a greater or less extent the original abilities are
preserved in every cell, no matter what function it
serves. All cells must eat, secrete, reproduce — some
rapidly, others slowly. The work devolving upon them
determines how much of and what particular character
shall predominate, as with men.
When the many-celled animal without a nervous sys-
tem receives an impression and responds to it bv moving,
the impulse is propagated from one cell to the next and
but sluggish motions are induced. Manifestly it would
be an advantage to have a telegraph system to cause
instantaneous and united action.
Little amceba-like animals J happening to live where
sand abounded picked up an overcoat of that material by
agglutination. The mollusc falling in with chalky and
other lime particles, which it separated from its food by
excretion, developed its shell because the secretion hap-
pened to adhere externally. The hermit crab finds a
covering already made, and occupies it by squatter
right. It does not matter to any one of these how the
advantage befell; it is taken as such and adjusted to.
The fighting cock will use the steel gaffs as though they
had grown from his legs, nor is the cell a particle more
me, when we consider similar fusions in alg.e and protozoa and the fact that
fission produces offspring, no matter whether repletion comes from food or can-
nibalism, the identity of the act thnt precedes fission and the hunger-appeasing
act justifies the belief that hunger primitively developed the other desire as
a differentiation.
t Observe that the lung is appended to the upper part of the alimentary
canal as evidence of the association of eating and respiration, and that the
oviducts and cloaca are connected in birds and embryos of higher animals, indi-
cating the ingestive and excretory nature of multiplication.
$The rhizopod {astrodiscus arenaccus).
486
THE OPKN COURT.
particular. It' it find in its environment material that
has enough affinity for it to remain in its vicinity, and a
life process is subserved by that fact, things chemical
and mechanical in nature perpetuate the association by
natural selection.
As the rhizopod could not have acquired his covering
where there was no sand, the ancestral worm could not
have picked up a nervous system in the absence of
assimilable phosphates. These nerve compounds had a
molecular mode of action altogether different from any-
thing experienced before by the animals. With evolu-
tion of higher types the explosive substance was excreted
irregularly and later more definitely, as Cope has shown*
was the case with the skeletons of early reptilia. Next
an encapsulating membrane formed about these lines ot
phosphatic granules in obedience to the ordinary patho-
logical process that an intermediary tissue will form
about any foreign substance as a resultant of the mode
of operation of the two tissues. In due time an area of
nerve granules finds itself being suppressed at one point
and arranged at another until the fully developed nerv-
ous system appears.
The possibility of so important a structure as the
nervous having been acquired by accident, seems prepos-
terous, but let us reason from other matters to it. You
realize that accident kills many. If vou study the
matter closer you will be convinced it kills more.
Accidents determine such things as marriages and births
as well as deaths. Fortune or misfortune are accidental.
By chance and accident is here meant what is generally
accepted to be their meanings. Strictly speaking when
everything is the outcome of some preceding cause, there
can be no such phenomenon as an accident, but in the
sense of opposed to design it is a convenient term.
Bony excretions at first indefinitely arranged served
but a feeble purpose, but afterward definitely arranged
in lines relating the muscles contraction became more
direct and useful.
At first all tissues indifferently exuded the bone and
nerve granules, but eventually certain cells became the
ones best suited to elaborate these materials and we have
the osteal and the nerve cells as a result of this high
grade evolution.
When nerve granules began to be linearly arrangedf
even then these rudimentary nerves served but hap-
hazard uses. Each pellet was an excreted compound of
phosphorus with organic hydro-carbonaceous materials
which, however faintly it exploded, when disturbed,
became a new experience in the environment to be reck-
oned upon. Heat and light increased its molecular
" kick." Electricity, though less often met with, affected
the substance more than anything else.
♦ Fossil Batrachia, American Naturalist, 1SS3.
t Kleinenburg's Hydra and Hnbrecht's Pseudoxematon nervosum, a low
At first doubtless this was a disease, an excresence
that was annoying to the animal, but a re-adjustment
occurred on the basis of reconciliation and a new mode
of life-working. The cells then were shocked by the
new tissue, but such forms as could not rid themselves
of it encapsulated it, covered it, just as a bullet in the
body would be covered, in time, by a sac. The inter-
cellular distribution of these nerve granules would now
exert no effect upon the cells, but whenever, by occasional
exposure of the granules to an influence that would
cause the explosion, it was discovered that instead of
having to wait for motions to be transferred from cell to
cell before the entire organism could be affected by
motory causes this new tissue conveyed the needed
stimulation promptly to a distant cell in a very simple
way. The law of least resistances determined the next
step. The granules would, from being diffused, be
arranged, by the motions of the low animal, in some
kinds of lines, even though badly defined ones. The
quick conveyance of impressions made the cell colony
more energetic, and wherever this energy happened to
conserve life the species with the most definite nerve
strands survived.
Hunger woujd develop colonial motion in the direc-
tion of hunger appeasing movements. The part which
is most affected, the intestinal tract, becomes for the
time being the center of stimuli production.
The law of association steps in to determine what
cells shall be united. The general cell need of oxygen
establishes a muscular and nervous means for circula-
tion, and other hunger appeasing processes make routes
and means elsewhere.
What is known as the neuroglia or gray matter of
the nervous system I regard as the product of cells that
have developed molecular irritability above all other
functions; the fact that this gray matter is without
cell membranes counts for nothing — development neces-
sitated this peculiarity.
A highly sensitive neuroglia substance, A, would
transmit its irritations rapidly to a contiguous highly
contractile muscle, B, thus:
A B
Then when the sensitive neuroglia was concealed
and nerve granules conveyed the impressions inward the
next arrangement appears — S, the "sensory nerves" —
Better definition gives lines of
nerves instead of the plexus —
Then s |~
follows -
m
an illy arranged set of nerves between the muscles and
the gray matter, afterward becoming better arranged —
as the " motor nerves."
This is really what occurs
in the embryological development of every animal that
THE OPEN COURT.
4S7
has a nervous system at all, as well as in the "phy-
togeny," or evolutionary progress.
We are now prepared to consider reflex nervous
action. Toin a lot of these segments thus:
and the diagram represents the spinal cord and nerves
of the connecting link between vertebrates and inverte-
brates.*
Up to this stage indifferent tissues have secreted the
nerve granules; thereafter the basis substance of sensa-
tion, the neuroglia, A, develops these nerve elements,
and under the microscope the homogeneity of the neu-
roglia disappears, and ascending through intelligence
becomes more and more filled with fibrils of fine gran-
ules of a nervous character. y
Yet development goes on and the neuroglia gen-
erates nerve cells, whose office it is to more rapidly and
readily form these granules for the axis cylinders of the
nerves.
The number of impulses or irritations required to
produce a continued contraction in the feebler developed
muscles is thirty per second; in the voluntary muscles,
such as are concerned in moving the body or limbs,
nineteen and one-half per second.* Fewer impulses
passing over a nerve result in tremors or trembling. A
lowered vitality, such as drunkards exhibit, or when
there is emotional diversion, interferes with the proper
succession of impulses, and the muscles are tremulous.
The inseparableness of psychic and physical life is
evident from lowest to highest, but may be well illus-
trated by the headless lancelet and the lamprey eel
with a feeble but better developed nervous system. The
last cut essentially represents the spinal cord of the
lancelet, with ingoing sensory and outgoing motor
nerves. If an irritation passes in over one of the first-
mentioned nerves and reaches the gray irritable matter
of the cord the irritability is communicated up and down
the gray and irradiated to the general muscular system
through the motor nerves. (Diffusion). Now, if a
certain sensory nerve bundle became subjected more
than others to a peculiar impression the nearest motor
nerves would not only respond most energetically, but
the gray molecules would perforce arrange themselves
better to accommodate the passage of the impulse.
Here we have our sensation and memory again, only
in this case with special tissues for their seat — the neu-
roglia. But the motions are just as liable not to serve as
to serve a useful purpose, and that is the fact we can
observe when a worm or even some low vertebrate is
interfered with; their motions do not seem to be prop-
erly adjusted to a reasonable end, as when the eel in
escaping wriggles toward instead of away from vou.
Plainly such low forms as by accident procured a better
adjustment and moved in response to stimuli in a way
to secure prey and escape enemies would not only sur-
vive but multiply by descent the higher forms so insti-
tuted, and these improved nervous systems would lift
their successors gradually through the vertebrate series
to the highest life.
If there be a choice of two routes for the passage of
the impulse in the gray matter the wavering between
these two routes constitutes hesitation, which we shall
see a little later on is the basis of doubt, thought, reason 1
When by any superiority of advantage over the other a
route is selected the irritation disturbs a more direct
tract of molecules in the cord gray, so as to invariably
respond to the given stimulus, and a certain set of
muscles are moved, then automatism is established, and
we have instinct, which is the end, the aim, the death of
reason. These deductions will be fortified as we proceed.
* Amphioxiis laiireolatus.
t Exner.
% Helmholz.
TH. RIBOT ON WILL.
BY DR. P. CARUS.
Part 11.
Impairment of the power of attention is a diminu-
tion of the will-power in the strictest sense of the term.
Attention may be natural and spontaneous, or it may be
voluntary.
Spontaneous attention may be observed in the
crouching animal watching for its prey; the child
intently gazing at some spectacle; the poet contemplat-
ing an inward vision, or the mathematician brooding
over the solution of a problem. The true cause of it is
an affective state which excites our interest. Eliminate
emotion, and all is gone. Voluntary attention, which is
commonly credited with marvelous feats, is only an arti-
ficial imitation of spontaneous attention.
Instances of mediocre minds in whom spontaneous
attention is impaired are numerous. But it is more
interesting to study the case of a gifted man who lacks
the power of direction. Thus we shall see a perfect
contrast between will and thought. Coleridge is an
instance of this.
Dr. Carpenter quotes a description of Coleridge in
Chap. VII. of Carlyle's Life of fohn Sterling: " Cole-
ridge's whole figure, good and amiable otherwise, might
be called flabby and irresolute, expressive of weakness
under possibility of strength. He hung loosely on his
limbs, with knees bent and stooping attitude. In walk-
ing he rather shuffled than decisively stepped; and a
lady once remarked, he never could fix which side of
the garden walk would suit him best, but continually
shifted in corkscrew fashion and kept trying both.
* * * His talk wasdistinguishedlike himself by irres-
48S
THE OPEN COURT.
olution; it disliked to be troubled with conditions and
definite fulfillments. * * * You put some question
to him, instead of answering it, he would accumulate
formidable apparatus for setting out toward answering
it. * * * There was probably never a man
endowed with such remarkable gifts who accomplished
so little that was worthy of them, the great defect of his
character being the want of will to turn his gifts to
account. * * * At the very outset of his career,
when he had found a bookseller who promised him
thirty guineas for poems which he recited to him, he
went on week after week begging and borrowing for
his daily needs in the most humiliating manner until
he had drawn from his patron the whole of the prom-
ised purchase money without supplying him with a line
of that poetry which he had only to write down to free
himself from obligation."
The composition of the poetical fragment "Kubla
Khan1' in his sleep, as told in his Biographia Litter-
aria, is a typical example of automatic mental action.
He fell asleep while reading the passage in Pitrclias's
Pilgrimage in which the "stately pleasure house" is
mentioned, and on awaking he felt as if he had com-
posed from two to three hundred lines, which he had
nothing to do but to write down, "the images rising up
as things, with a parallel production of the correspond-
ent expressions, without any sensation or consciousness
of effort." The whole of this singular fragment as it
stands, consisting of fifty-four lines, was written as fast
as his pen could trace the words; but having been inter-
rupted by a person on business who stayed with him
above an hour, he found to his surprise and mortification
that " though he still retained some vague and dim recol-
lection of the general purport of the vision, yet with the
exception of some eight or ten scattered lines and
images, all the rest had passed away like the images on
the surface of a stream into which a stone has been cast,
but, alas without the after-restoration of the latter."
The impairment of voluntary attention occurs in two
forms. The one is produced artificially, the other is a
special type of aboulia. The artificially produced
impairment of voluntary attention is characterized by- a
superabundance of feelings and ideas in a given time, as
obtains in the state of alcoholic intoxication. The
exuberance of cerebral activity is more noticeable in the
more intellectual intoxication produced by hasheesh or
opium. The individual feels himself overwhelmed by
the irresistible tide of his ideas, and language is too slow
to express the rapidity of his thoughts. But at the same
time the power of directing the course of his ideas
becomes weaker and weaker and the lucid moments
grow shorter and shorter.
The other form of impairment of the voluntary
attention is a disease which consists in a progressive
diminution of the directive power and ends with an
inability of any intellectual effort.
Attention, by its origin, is of the nature of reflex
action. Voluntary attention, the highest form of which
is reflection, rests upon the involuntary, and derives from
it all its force. Compared with the latter it is very pre-
carious. The mechanism of attention acts by the
impulse of a fictitious emotion and an inhibition of all
other impulses and movements. Education has to
develop the power of these fictitious emotions and make
them stable by repetition. Helvetius says: "All intel-
lectual differences between one man and another spring
only from attention."
Hysteric caprice is not, as some physicians have
strongly contended, an exaltation; it indicates an
absence of will. Capriciousness is at most velleity, the
merest sham of volition. Dr. Huchard gives a descrip-
tion of hysterical persons: "One prominent trait of
their character is mobility. From day to day, from
hour to hour, from minute to minute they pass with
incredible rapidity from joy to sadness, from laughter to
tears." * * * "They behave," says Ch. Richet,
"like children who oftentimes can be made to laugh
heartily, while their cheeks are still wet with the tears
they have shed! Their character changes like the views
of a kaleidoscope."
The instability of hysteric persons is a fact; its cause
is very probably to be found in functional disorders
and the lack of a solid, stable basis. If the physiological
conditions are out of order, if the motor apparatus is
deranged; if the vaso-motor, secretory and other func-
tions are disturbed — how can we expect a stable equilib-
rium of the whole organism? It would be a mira-
cle if a stable character could rest upon so wavering a
base.
Impairment of the will can lead to its absolute
extinction. The psychic activity is or seems to be com-
pletely suspended in deep sleep, in anaesthesia, in coma
and similar states which indicate a return to vegetative
life. Ecstasy and somnambulism are the morbid cases
of an extinction of will. They are instances where one
form of mental activity remains while there is no possi-
bility of choice followed by act.
Ecstasy, whether mystic or morbid or physiological
or cataleptic, is fundamentally the same in all its forms.
Some ecstasists reach the ecstatic condition naturally in
virtue of their physical constitution; others assist nature
by artificial processes, Tor instance by gazing fixedly at
something, a luminous subject, or the sky, or one's navel
(after the manner of the monks of Mount Athos), or by
repeating continually the monosyllable OM (a name of
Brahma). The Buddhists call their ecstasy the earthly
Nirvana, Christians the enjoyment of God.
St. Theresa thus describes her physical state during
her " raptures:" "Oftentimes my body would become
THE OPEN COURT.
4S9
so light that it no longer possessed any weight — some-
times I no longer felt my feet touching the ground.
While the bodv is in rapture, it remains as though it
were dead, and often is absolutely powerless to act. It
retains whatever attitude it may have assumed at the
moment of the access; thus it continues standing or
seated, the hands open or closed, — in a word it continues
in the state wherein the rapture found it. Though
commonly a person does not lose feeling, still it has
happened to me to be entirely deprived of it. This has
occurred very rarely, and it has lasted only for a very short
time. Most frequently feeling remains; but a person
experiences an indefinable disturbance; and though it is
impossible to perform any external act, one still can
hear a sort of confused sounds coming from a distance.
And even this kind of hearing ceases when the rap-
ture is in the highest degree."
There can be no choice in ecstasy. Choice presup-
poses that complex whole ego which has disappeared.
There is nothing that can choose, nothing that is chosen.
As well might we suppose an election without either
electors or candidates.
Ecstasy is the reduction of a mental state to a one-
imaged idea, which engrosses the entire consciousness.
Consciousness exists only on the condition of a
perpetual change, it is essentially discontinuous. A
homogeneous and continuous consciousness is an impos-
sibility. In ecstasy consciousness either disappears or
comes back only at intervals.. There is absolute abolition
of will, the conscious personality being reduced to one
single state which is neither chosen nor rejected, but
merely suffered.
Somnambulism, hypnotism and analogous states are
not identical in all individuals and in every case. What-
ever be its cause, the hypnotised subject is an automaton
which acts according to the nature of his organization. At
a word from the operator, the hypnotised subject rises,
walks or sits down. His only will, as we say, is that of the
operator. By giving to his members certain postures we
can awaken in him the emotion of pride, terror, anger,
devotion, etc. If we place him in the position for
climbing, he moves his limbs as if he were going up a
ladder. If we put in his hands any instrument he has
been wont to employ, he goes to work with it. The
position given to the members awakens in the cerebral
centers the corresponding psychical states with which
they have become associated by much repetition. The
passage to action is the easier because there is nothing
that hinders it, neither a power of inhibition, nor any
antagonistic state. The idea awakened by the operator
has sole dominion in the slumbering consciousness.
Some cases of somnambulism are very doubtful.
Burdach tells of "a very fine ode" which was com-
posed in a state of somnambulism. The story has often
been told of the abbe who in preparing a sermon
corrected and pruned his sentences. Facts ot this kind are
so numerous that even making allowance for credulity
and exaggeration, it is impossible to reject them all.
And is not what the poets call inspiration an involun-
tary and almost unconscious sort of brain work — at
least it is not conscious save in its result.
We find among hypnotised persons instances of
resistance. An order is not obeyed or a suggestion is
not followed immediately. One of Richer's subjects
readily allowed himself to be metamorphosed into an
officer, a sailor, etc., but he refused with tears in his
eyes, to be transformed into a priest. This could suffi-
ciently be explained from the whole atmosphere in
which the man had lived.
It ma}' be remarked that it is difficult for the
observer to say what power of reacting persists in the
person who resists, and the person himself is no better
judge. In the period of somnambulic drowsiness a cer-
tain consciousness is retained; but even if an educated,
intelligent man submits to the operation, it is difficult to
him to make sure that he is not simulating.
"A friend of mine," Richet relates, "who was hyp-
notised, but not quite put to sleep, observed closely this
phenomenon of impotence coincident with the illusion
of the possession of his will. When I indicated to him
a movement to perform, he always executed it, though
before being magnetised he was quite determined to
resist. This he had the greatest difficulty in accounting
for after awakening. 'Certainly,' he said, 'I could
resist, but I have not the will to do so.' Sometimes he
is tempted to believe that he is simulating. ' When
I am dozing,' he says, ' I simulate automatism though I
could, as it seems to me, act otherwise. I begin with
the firm resolution not to dissimulate, but in spite of
myself, when sleep begins, it seems to me that I simu-
late.' "
This power of resistance, weak though it be, is the
last survival of individual reaction, and the illusion of
this feeble power of inhibition must correspond with
some equally precarious physiological state.
In the normal state volition is a choice followed by
act. The necessary conditions of a choice may be
called will. They form a very complex mechanism of
both impulsion and inhibition. If impulsion is absent,
no tendency to act appears, as in aboulia; if inhibition is
absent or impulsion is too intense, it prevents the act of
choice, as in hysteria and in instances of caprice; if inhibi-
tion excludes all external impressions and annihilates im-
pulsion, will is, extinguished, as in ecstasy and somnambu-
lism. Accordingly will is a cause with respect to
volition, but in itself it is a sum of effects which result
from and vary with its physiological constituents.
Character is the psychological expression of a given
organism, it is not an entity but the resultant of the
innumerable infinitesimal states and tendencies of all the
49°
THE OPEN COURT.
anatomical elements that constitute a given organism.
It is the ultimate stratum whereon rests the possibility
of will and which makes the will strong or weak, inter-
mittent, average or extraordinary.
The will has for its basis a legacy registered in the
organism which has come down from generations innu-
merable. Upon this basis rests the conscious and indiv-
idual activity of the appetites, desires, feelings and
passions. Their co-ordination is more complex and far
less stable than the primordial automatic activity of the
organism. Higher still we have ideomotor activity;
this is perfect volition. It may therefore be said that
perfect volition forms a hierarchic co-ordination, i. e.
co-ordination with subordination, so that all shall con-
verge toward a single point, which is the end to be
obtained. The morbid cases are all reducible to absence
of hierarchic co-ordination; viz. to independent, irregu-
lar, isolated, anarchic action.
Volition comes not from above but from below; it is
a sublimation of the lower elements. Volition may be
compared to the keystone of an arch. To that stone the
arch owes its strength, even its existence; nevertheless,
this stone derives its power from the other stones that
support it and press it on all sides, as it in turn presses
them and gives them stability.
When the nervous system is disturbed by any dis-
ease, tbe latest and highest structures are the first to fail.
The more voluntary parts are always much more gravely
paralyzed than the others. The course of dissolution is
from the complex to the simple, from the voluntary to
the automatic, and the final term of evolution is the
initial term of dissolution. The functions last to be
acquired are the first to degenerate. In the individual,
automatic co-ordination precedes co-ordination springing
from the appetites and passions; this latter precedes vol-
untary co-ordination, and the simpler forms of voluntary
attention precede the more complex.
In the development of species, according to the evo-
lution theory, the lower forms of activity existed alone
for ages; then with the increasing complexity of the
co-ordinations came will. Hence a return to the reign
of impulsion, with whatever brilliant qualities of mind it
may be accompanied, is in itself a regression. The will
varies in complexity and in degree; it attains extraordi-
nary power only among a privileged few; but though it
performs great feats, it has a very lowly origin. It has
its rise in a biological property inherent in all living
matter and known as irritability, that is to say, reaction
against external forces. From irritability- the physio-
logical form of the law of inertia— spring sensibilty and
mobility, those two great bases of psychic life.
In the nature of great men some mighty irrepres-
sible passion is fundamental. This passion controls all
their thought and it is the man. Such men present the
type of a life always in harmony with itself, because in
them everything converges to a definite aim.
The "I will" shows that a state of consciousness
exists, but it does not constitute the situation ; it has in
itself no efficacy in producing action, for the "I will"
is like the verdict of a jury by a consensus. It may be
the result from a charge of the judge and very passion-
ate pleadings of disagreeing parties. There are groups
of conscious, subconscious and unconscious states which
altogether eventually find expression in an action or the
inhibition of an action. All this psycho-physiological
work of deliberation results in a state of consciousness,
or the "I will" which pronounces the verdict. If will
in the sane man is a co-ordination exceedingly complex
and instable, it is by reason of its very superiority easily
broken up, being, as Maudsley says, " the highest
force yet introduced by nature — the last consummate
efflorescence of all her wondrous works."
THE POSITIVE VIRTUES.
BY PROFESSOR THOMAS DAVIDSON.
Part II.
Monasticism, as I have said, is Christianity carried to
its ultimate consequences. It has lost its hold upon the
modern world, in large degree. And not only so, but
the modern world has actually turned against it, no
only rejecting and despising it, but proscribing it. In
most of the countries of Europe, the monasteries have
been broken up and their property has been confiscated.
Whatever may be said by formal lawyers about the
justice of this confiscation, it was the result of a right
instinct and a true insight. Monasticism is not only not the
highest form of human life; it is not, strictly speaking,
human life at all.
But, though monasticism, the extreme form of Chris-
tianity, has been overthrown, the spirit which made
monasticism possible still prevails, and molds all our
notions of morality. Moral life, to most people even
now, means an endeavor to reach the zero-point of vir-
tue, a state of simple innocence; as the New Testament
puts it, " to become as little children." A man or a
woman satisfies all our notions of virtue, who does not con-
travene one-half of the Ten Commandments — the third,
sixth, seventh, eighth and ninth; that is, who does not
swear, murder, commit adultery, steal or lie; and we are
not over particular about any of these sins, except mur-
der, unless a man commits them in such an awkward
way as to become a public scandal. Hut, even granting
that our notion of virtue presupposed strict adherence to
the whole decalogue, the notion would still be a very
imperfect one, a very low and false one. There is no
positive virtue whatever in obeying the Ten Command-
ments, or any number of commandments, telling us to
refrain from certain courses of action. There is simply
absence of vice. Virtue consists in doing good, not in
THE OPEN COURT.
49 1
refraining from evil. There is no generosity in paying
one's debts, even if one should be left, in consequence,
without a penny. Generosity begins where a man gives
what positively belongs to him — his money, or, better
yet, his moral and intellectual sympathy and help. And
so with the other virtues.
The spiritual deadness of the piesent time, the fer-
tile source of nearly all the other evils which infest us,
is, in very large measure, due to the current doctrine,
based upon the myth of a fall, that man is a fallen and
depraved creature, and that his sole aim is to return to
his primitive state of innocence — in other words, the
doctrine that virtue is simply the absence of vice.
If there is anything that our present world needs, it
is, to be freed from the doctrine of a fall and from all
its implications. The implications are more tenacious
and more hurtful than the doctrine itself, and many peo-
ple who have escaped from the latter are still bound,
hand and foot, in the former. Of these implications,
the most baneful in its consequences, perhaps, is the
notion that virtue is the absence of vice, and that, in order
to be virtuous a man need not contribute any positive
amount to the world's good. Of this, above all things,
we must rid ourselves, and learn that we must not only
forsake evil, but, further, learn to do good.
Let us see for a moment what would be the results
of this riddance — of coming to the conviction that, in
order to be virtuous, a man must not only avoid vice,
but contribute positively to the world's good — contribute
knowingly and of set purpose.
The first result will be, that we shall have less respect
than we now have for mere respectability. Respecta-
bility is a word which admirably designates the moral
condition that corresponds to the zero-point of virtue, as
currently fixed. A respectable man is simply one who
has no debts recorded in the public moral ledger. He
need not have any credits recorded either. Now, one
of the most powerful obstacles to high and manly mor-
ality is the honor accorded to this kind of man by the
public generally. A man may be deficient in everything
that constitutes the true man and the true citizen; he
may know nothing of the history of man, of his physical
or mental constitution; he may know nothing of art,
science, literature, religion, politics or political economy;
he mav know little of his country's history ; he may take
no share in any scheme for the public weal ; he may vote
with the party that promises to protect his business best
or he mav not vole at all; he mav spend his whole life
in collecting wealth for himself and his family, without
ever asking whom such acquisition mav oppress, and
yet, so long as he does not lie or steal vulgarly, that is,
beyond the degree of lying and stealing allowed in the
code of industrial and commercial morality, he is
accounted a good and respectable man, and his success
in obtaining wealth is counted to him for righteousness.
He is received everywhere during his life, and honored
and lamented, as a virtuous man, after his death. On the
other hand, let a man be public-spirited; let him be well
versed in the history of man; let him understand man's
needs; let him be an active member in all schemes for
public well-being, whether they be economical, social,
political or religious; but let him, at the same time, have
some fault of appetite or passion; say, let him but once
have committed some single act under the influence of
his lower, carnal nature, and all his public spirit, all his
efforts for the well-being of his kind, will be forgotten,
and his little peccadillo will be trumpeted over the world
by prurient or sanctimonious scandal-mongers, who are
so little themselves that they cannot even understand a
man of large positive virtue and public-mindedness. It
is so pleasant to be able to find a man who does not
come up to our little, three-inch model of virtue, with
whom we can favorably compare ourselves and plume
ourselves on the result! But, in spite of all this, the
tiny standard mav be, in the main, conventional. It
may be a standard that does not measure human virtue
at all, but merely human dread of such standards and
base human bowing down to conventional usage.
This, of course, is in every sense wrong, and leads
to most undesirable and painful results. The man of
strong, generous character, with here and there a little
surface fl.iw in it, that the smallest nature can detect and
gloat over, is in all his undertakings harassed bv a crowd
of puny critics, who distort and misrepresent his motives
and his acts, until he is almost fain to leave the silly,
blind world to its own ways and their consequences.
See what a pother was raised over poor Goethe's faults,
over Burns's! How many sermons, condemning these
men as dangerous to humanity, have been preached and
still are preached, from pulpits that have only words of
eulogium for the selfish capitalist, who has ruined and
enslaved hundreds of other men, in order that he may
have the comfort, the power and the vulgar considera-
tion that come of wealth. What an unworthy fly-plague
of carping and sanctimonious condemnation has risen
from the moral swamps of the world on account of cer-
tain facts in the lives of great women, like George Sand
and George Eliot. One would think the "Neither do I
condemn thee " had never been uttered. In the midst
of all this carping and condemnation, the great positive
virtues of these men and women are forgotten. They
have not the virtues professed by curates and church-
wardens, and therefore, they have no virtues at all!
And yet Goethe and Burns and George Sand and George
Eliot were far more virtuous people than any curate or
church- warden that ever was. If we do not see and feel
this, it is because we have a false idea of what constitutes
virtue, and think that it consists in merely seeking the
zero-point of goodness and being content with that.
Let me not be misunderstood here. I have not the
49-
THE OPEN COURT.
smallest intention of depreciating the specific virtues of
the curate and the church-warden. They are virtues, great
virtues, and the world would he on an evil path, if they
were made light of in theory or disregarded in practice.
Hut they are not all virtue; they are not even the great-
est of virtues. A man may lack them in their perfection,
and yet be a more virtuous man than he who has them
and them alone. The selfish, respectable Pharisee is a
far less virtuous man than the great-hearted, strong-
pulsed, loving toiler for humanity, who occasionally
allows his exuberant love to flow into wrong channels.
Perhaps, of all the obstacles to human advancement and
well-being, there is none so great as respectable Philis-
tinism, self-r.ghteous, self-contented, unsympathetic,
shell-bound. It was against Philistines that Jesus of
Nazareth protested so vehemently, declaring that the
most sensual of men, the inhabitants of Sodom and
Gomorrha, would stand higher at the bar of virtue and
justice than they. It is against this class of people that
the growl of modern socialism and communism is
directed, and it is this class that will be swept away, if
ever socialism gains the upper hand. Respectability is
arrested moral evolution — evolution arrested at the zero-
point of virtue and often below it. And we shall soon
come to recognize this, and to treat mere respectability
as it ought to be treated, as but the babyhood of virtue.
(TO HE CONTINUED.)
SONNET.
IiY COWAN LEA.
[written on returning from visiting somh homes OF THE l'OC
OCTOBER 2, 1SS7.]
TO THE ARTS.
Hail Music! Waft me now upon thy wings
Beyond these vapors of the murky night;
Bear me afar to regions fair and bright,
Where with one grand accord the angels sing!
Thou 'rt whispering of an ideal spring
Where Poesv and all the Arts delight
In honoring each; where the inspired sight
Sees beauty underlying everything.
Ye white-robed seraphs — Music, Poesv —
Descend amid earth's poverty and pain !
Make sufferers forget their misery;
And evil-doers vow to sin no more;
Say unto each : " My brother, try again !
I would unlock for thee thy prison door."
ON FINISHING "THE RUINS."
VOLNEY.
In skies of truth thy star shall ever gleam —
Thou Galahad whose quest was light; ne'er can
A grateful world thyself auoht other deem
Than great as wise — untinged by sect or clan;
Nor bigotry defame thee — patriot, scholar, man!
# *
The Open Court.
^v FORTNICHTLY JOURNAL.
Published every other Thursday at 169 to 175 La Salle Street (Nixor
Building), corner Monroe Street, by
THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY
B. F. UNDERWOOD,
Editor and Manager.
SARA A. UNDERWOOD,
Associate Editor.
The leading object of The Open Court is to continue
the work of The Index, that is, to establish religion on the
basis of Science and in connection therewith it will present the
Monistic philosophy. The founder ct this journal believes this
will furnish to others what it has to him, a religion which
embraces all that is true and good in the religion that was taught
in childhood to them and him.
Editorially, Monism and Agnosticism, so variously defined,
will be treated not as antagonistic systems, but as positive and
negative aspects of the one and only rational scientific philosophy,
which, the editors hold, includes elements of truth common to
all religions, without implying either the validity of theological
assumption, or any limitations of possible knowledge, except such
as the conditions of human thought impose.
The Open Court, while advocating morals and rational
religious thought on the firm basis of Science, will aim to substi-
tute for unquestioning credulity intelligent inquiry, for blind faith
rational religious views, for unreasoning bigotry a liberal spirit,
tor sectarianism a broad and generous humanitarianism. With
this end in view, this journal will submit all opinion to the crucial
test of reason, encouraging the independent discussion by able
thinkers of the great moral, religious, social and philosophical
problems which are engaging the attention of thoughtful minds
and upon the solution of which depend largely the highest inter-
ests of mankind
While Contributors are expected to express freely their own
views, the Editors are responsible onlv for editorial matter.
Terms of subscription three dollars per year in advance,
postpaid to any part of the United States, and three dollars and
fifty cents to foreign countries comprised in the postal union.
All communications intended for and all business letters
relating to The Open Court should be addressed to B. F.
Underwood, Treasurer, P. O. Drawer F, Chicago, 111., to whom
should be made payable checks, postal orders and express orders.
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 13, 1SS7.
MORAL AND SCIENTIFIC PROGRESS.
It may be safely said, that the more science we have,
the more morality also will we have. True, much immo-
rality is seen in communities that .are in possession of
considerable knowledge, and we hear it said, that in
some savage tribes is found a morality which shames
civilized nations. But such statements predicated upon
superficial comparison of simple and complex communi-
ties are of little value. If we would form an idea of the
difference in the moral character of the savage and the
civilized man, we must imagine the Digger Indians sud-
denly organized into a community, with institutions and
agencies as numerous and relations as complex as those
of the City of Chicago. Such a change, were it possi-
ble, would at once involve not only great intellectual
development, but the education of the moral sense and
such differentiation of moral conduct as would be neces-
sary to adjust the members of the community to the
requirements of the new life. Such intellectual and
moral changes cannot be effected without science, and
THE OPEN COURT.
493
then only by slow changes extending through centuries.
Morality depends upon scientific progress; and if a
people who have made considerable advancement in
science is still more or less under the dominion of laws
and habits which belong to an unadvanced condition, it
shows only how largely the present may be in slavery
to the past, and illustrates that men may outgrow beliefs
and vet be under the influence of those beliefs. Many
imagine that they have emancipated themselves from
the thralldom of creeds, when they have all the dog-
matism, bigotry and bitterness which those creeds engen-
dered in their ancestors, and which they themselves have
received partly by education ami partly by inheritance.
It is science that has chief!}' promoted the practical
morality we have to-day in the most enlightened com-
munities, because it is science that has taught us what is
involved in all the old precepts, and enables us to realize
them in life. The words "Be just" express the whole
duty of man under all circumstances, in all climes; but
intellectual development, including scientific knowledge,
has enabled man to learn what is just. The abolition of
slavery and the growth of international law were made
possible by science, not by the repetition of precepts
known to the ancients as well as to ourselves. The fact
that much needs to be done to make men understand
morality in the application of its principles to practice is
illustrated by the unwillingness of the orthodox clergy
to consent to the taxation of church property, when
thev know that such taxation compels people who do
not believe in the churches to suppoit them. It is sec-
ular knowledge and scientific progress that will finally
effect this change, and not simply repeating the words
of Tesus and exhorting men to obey them. The broth-
erhood of man was taught, not only by Jesus, but by
poets and'sages in India and Greece; what the brother-
hood of man really means in actual life was not under-
stood until science brought men and nations into com-
munication, and indeed, is not fully understood yet.
The invention of the telegraph has done more to pro-
mote the brotherhood of man than all the preaching to
which men have listened since that invention commenced
its work of uniting men in the bonds of a common
humanity. It is now enabling us to put in practice
what was before to a large extent mere theory, because
it is making men more cosmopolitan in their views and
sympathies. And so the invention of printing, which
has spread knowledge broadcast, has been an important
factor in social advancement, which means also moral
progress.
Science, by affording men good surroundings, teach-
ing them how to live, making them acquainted with
their numerous relations, giving them good laws and
correct ideas of nature and of duty, strengthens and
develops the highest sentiments and the noblest traits
of character. Left without these scientific aids, without
this knowledge that comes to help man in controlling
the forces of nature, left simply to the worship of an
unseen Being or to a dreamy, nebulous contemplation
of the universe, man never could have advanced from
the conditions of savage life to those of the present day.
With the increasing complexity of man's observations
and experiences, upon which the enlargement of the
mind and the growth of the moral sentiment have
depended, science has extended her empire, while the
domain of theology lias become smaller, or has been con-
tinually excluded from the province of verifiable knowl-
edge. We insist then upon the importance of science,
'not only in its application to what are called physical
facts, but in its application to the human mind, its
expressions and products, including the religious senti-
ment and the moral sentiment as well as religious sys-
tems and the moral code.
PLEASURE AND PAIN.
Some references to happiness and unhappiness that
were made by Mr. John Burroughs and Mr. Xenos
Clark in preceding numbers of The Open Court sug-
gest an issue that thoughtful people must face, as the
well-disposed with cool intellects take the reins of the
world's affairs from the well-disposed with heated emo-
tions. Mr. Clark makes a fair statement of the blank-
holder's fate being a gnat in the prize-holder's estima-
tion, and the blank-holder's protest being very disagree-
able to the prize-holder. We must recognize the fact
that when one holds the prize he thinks differently from
what he would if he held the blank. Herbert Spencer
shows that sympathy arises as an altruistic feeling
through conceiving ourselves in the place of the one
needing the sympathy, and Dr. Clevenger claims that
" it is owing to this that ladies may crush bugs and flies
without compunction, while the naturalist who studies
them and recognizes their pain and pleasure kinship with
ourselves, usually refrains from the unnecessary infliction
of pain. The rich forthis reason, seldom feel forthe poor.
In fact, those who ride in carriages, have an involuntary
contempt for those who go afoot. The knowledge
that this is a natural feeling should only operate toward
overcoming it. Unpleasant information of this kind
usually invokes a storm of denial from the mob. They
prefer to think themselves descendants of the angels and
refuse to analyze their own sentiments. The unwel-
come truths should be faced and an honest endeavor
made to develop good traits that we do not possess."
Instead of indulging in mere unreasoning denunci-
ations, or going to the pessimistic extreme of bewailing
the uselessness of efforts to improve the condition of the
unfortunate, or taking the middle course of lazv indif-
ference to suffering, we should see what science can do
in the premises.
There is a great amount of suffering all about us
494
THE OR EN COURT.
which the hospital, the asylum and other systematic and
unsystematic charity fail to reach, and from the dismal
point of observation, the sighs, groans and shrieks of
humanity seem condensed into tornadoes and thunder
peals. But the beautiful world perennially blooms, its
fountains play, while music and festivities unceasingly
lead the prize-holders to forget the existence of miser)'
elsewhere. And it is natural for the fortunate and
happy to avoid the suffering of others, notwithstanding
that the prize-holder of to-day who is fertile in excuses
for his inability to do aught for his fellows, to-morrow
may be the blank-holder with unlimited suggestions as
to how he could be helped, and with surprise at the
heartlessness of the rich; on the other hand, the
shivering, half-starved wretch of yesterday, may when
fortune overtakes him, turn away from the outstretched
hand with the plea "One cannot help everybody."
Something is being done and wisely done for the
poor and unfortunate, but that something is a straw
toward the construction of a Holland dyke. Sociology
as a study should be the recreation of the munificent.
Through its cultivation reasons for things could be
plainly seen. From understanding the causes of pain
and sorrow in the world, the remedies can best be
administered. All that concerns men should be induc-
tively studied. Knowledge of the conditions of exist-
ence begets an interest and disposition to improve them.
Those who have the means as well as the ability may
feel the keenest delight in mastering the intricate prob-
lems which the miseries of life present. Such men as
Saltaire boldly attack the difficulties and afford experi-
ences that may be profitably regarded by others. The
discovery has been made in the Eastern States that
reformed tenement houses which afford greater comfort
to the poor are paying investments, and this suggests
that direct advantages of a pecuniary nature may in the
future move to great humanitarian measures. In fact
the world is finding out by practical experience that
both directly and indirectly it pays to be decent, consid-
erate and humane. The highest expediency is the
highest wisdom.
The last issue of Freethinkers' Magazine reprints
our editorial on the alcohol question " to preserve"
( this is what Mr. T. B. Wakeman, the associate edi-
tor, says) "the valuable facts with which the article
concludes, and also a precious bit of fog — the amus-
ing confusion of our esteemed metaphysical contem-
porary, The Open Court, over secrete and excrete''
An equally "metaphysical" writer named Carpenter
is responsible for that amusing confusion, for he
states (p. 357, Principles of -Human Physiology) 'that,
'The literal meaning of secretion is separation; the
ordinary processes of nutrition involves a separation
of components of the blood, and every such removal
may be considered in the light of an act of excretion
so far as the blood and the rest of the organism are
concerned. There is no other fundamental differ-
ence between the two processes than such as arises
out of the diverse distinctions of the separated mat-
ter." Foster's Physiology, p. 16, also says: "The dis-
tinction between excretion and secretion is unimpor-
tant and frequently accidental." The skin secretes
and excretes perspiration. In the same sense milk and
bile are secreted and excreted. Certainly this is a
subject with which Mr. Wakeman is not acquainted.
Of Dr. Edmund Montgomery, who during the'
past fortnight has been the guest of Mr. Edward
C. Hegeler at Ea Salle and of the editors of this jour-
nal and other friends in Chicago, the Tribune of this
city makes the following mention:
Among the late arrivals in Chicago is Dr. Edmund Mont-
gomery, a gentleman well known among thinkers by his scientific
and philosophic writings. He is a Scotchman, born in Edinburg
in 1835. He studied in German universities — Heidelberg, Berlin,
Bonn, Wurzbtirg, Prague and Vienna. Was acquainted with
Schopenhauer in 1850, when he lived at Frankfort, and with
Moleschott and Helmholtz, whose lectures he attended. From
i860 to 1S63 he had a laboratory at St. Thomas' Hospital, Lon-
don, and was there lecturer on physiology. A lecture by him
before the Royal Society on " Cells in Animal Bodies " a'tracted
much attention among scientific men, and extravagant theories
of life were erected on the strength of his conclusions. Lung
trouble compelled him to exchange climate, and for six years he
practiced medicine at Madeira, Mentone and Rome. In 1871
appeared at Munich his work often cpuoted in controversy, enti-
tled, Die Kanthche Erienntnisslchre Widerlegt von Standfunhte
dcr Em fin- (Kant's Theory of Knowledge Refuted from the
Empirical Standpoint). It is a powerful criticism of Kantism and
a strong plea for what the author calls " naturalism." Dr. Mont-
gomery combines the qualifications and tastes of the philosopher
with those of the man of science. He has devoted years to the
microscopic examination of the lower forms of life, and his con-
tributions to biology have been most valuable. For several years
he has been a contributor to I he London periodical, Mind, the
ablest philosophical journal in the world. His two papers read
before the Concord School of Philosophy, although lie was not
personally present, attracted wide attention by their originality
and depth. Some years ago Dr. Montgomery, on account of his
ill-health, came to this country and went South, where he bought
a plantation in Texas, on which he has since lived.
* # *
All that is valuable or realizable in religion, belongs
properly to the domain of science. Fundamentally con-
sidered, religion is an expression of man's relation to the
universe, and it is a part of the sum total of human expe-
rience. If it be objected that religion is an emotion and
is not observable, and cannot therefore be dealt with by
the methods of science, the reply is, that it is the w ork
of science to take cognizance of our thoughts and feel-
ings, to compare and arrange them, to observe their
objective effects and to bring them within the province
of classified knowledge by reducing them to order and
system. To speak of religion as beyond or outside the
THE OPEN COURT.
495
scientific domain, is to speak of what is beyond the
power of the human mind to consider or conceive in
relation to the life and character of men. Whether
religion be regarded as doctrines formulated into creeds,
and organized into systems, or as an intuition or ten-
dency in our nature, the result of ancestral experiences
extending back through the ages to the time man began
to experience emotion in contemplating nature, and his
relation thereto, it is the work of science to illumine
the mind in regard to this subject.
* * *
Germany settles the fro and con of patent medicine
manufacture by compelling the compounder to print a
list of the ingredients on his labels. Foreign goods of
the kind are analyzed by government chemists. A
widely advertised kidney cure was thus officially an-
nounced to contain nothing medicinal but a small quan-
tity of winter-green. It is to the interest of the great
"public educator," the daily newspaper, not to antago-
nize this, in the main, nefarious business. Patent medi-
cine venders grow wealthy upon the credulity ot the
ailing. The entire matter is not a simple one, but may
be resolved into a few considerations as follows: Manu-
facturers of proprietary medicines are not always igno-
rant of the effects of remedies, but as a rule they are;
nor are they always dishonest, but dishonesty has great-
scope in the vending of nostrums, and to say they do
not often take advantage of popular want of knowledge
would be untrue. Usually the combination was origi-
nated by some physician and found to be effective in
certain cases, but it is not wise to rely upon untrained
judgment as to the applicability of drugs to disease.
* * *
We cordially welcome to these columns Col. T.
W. Higginson, one of America's best known scholars
and thinkers, from whose pen this number of The
Open Court contains a thoughtful and suggestive
article on "The Stronghold of the Church." Even
those who are obliged to dissent from some of his
conclusions, as we certainly are, will nevertheless
find his thought, even on these points of difference,
worthy of the most careful consideration.
* # #
There can be no industrial prosperity, no popular
reform, no extension of freedom, no progress, without
security of life and property, which is necessarily imper-
iled or weakened by every act of lawless violence that
goes unpunished. Intelligent workingmen, looking
beyond the moment, instead of restricting their own
liberties and opportunities by encouraging mob law
and riotous demonstrations, will trust to education, agi-
tation and the ballot for reforms which some in their
ignorance and short-sightedness imagine they can secure
by coming together, arming themselves with clubs, and
making raids upon private property. There is nothing
that gives greater satisfaction to those who have no
sympathy with the masses, and who rejoice whenever
anything occurs to which they can point in seeming
confirmation of their theory that the working class must
be "kept under with a strong hand," than the very acts
of lawlessness which these poor sons of toil, in their
simplicity, think will redress their grievances and right
their wrongs.
* * *
Nothing that exists is exempt from the law of inte-
gration and disintegration. Nations, like individuals,
have their stages of adolescence, full development and
decay. Religious orders may be founded by sincere,
even though deluded minds, and eventually the weak
points in their systems find them out as the world moves
past them. Secret societies usually have some basis of
good in their composition, and men are banded in an
exclusive brotherhood ostensibly to accomplish some
noble purpose, and doubtless in the aggregate good of
some kind is done, but every human institution presents
opportunities for designing persons, which they are not
slow to utilize. In churches or societies the hypocrite
is loudest in his professions, the strictest to observe the
outward requirements. Too often is the announcement
unblushingly made that the object of joining a lodge was
a purely mercenary one:" It helps my business." If this
were claimed as incidental to the joining and that the
desire to find a field of usefulness was the main incentive,
it would not be so bad. What must be consequent upon
organizations — whatever their pretensions — filling up
with men who want to make something out of one
another? It is not surprising that low grade politicians
should see their chances in such brotherhoods, to further
their knaveries and to be guaranteed a certain amount of
immunity from punishment for crimes committed. We
do not doubt that a strict interpretation of the constitu-
tion of nearly every secret society would enable the
well-disposed to oppose rascalities, but with the prosper-
ity of every institution comes a disposition to ignore, to
misinterpret and pervert its recorded principles. The
wolves grow more powerful and the lambs are afraid to
bleat. Nothing short of a recognition of the universal
brotherhood of man should satisfy any one. If you
fancy your means or opportunities are not sufficient to
enable you to be positively helpful to the world at large,
a little reflection will convince you that you can help
abundantly if vou conquer yourself and refrain from
doing positive harm to your neighbors.
Mr. Salter in his excellent article printed on
another page applies the word idealism to a philo-
sophical theory which is as thoroughly realistic as
any theory can be. The antithesis of his idealism is
not, as we are accustomed to use the word, realism,
but crude eighteenth century materialism.
496
THE OPEN COURT.
THE OCCULT SCIENCES IN THE TEMPLES OF
ANCIENT EGYPT.
BY GEORGIA LOUISE LEONARD.
[A paper read at the " Fortnigntly Conversation," Washington, D. C,
May 5th, 1SS7.]
t Conclusion.)
The most conservative Egyptologists admit that this
ancient people possessed a very considerable knowledge
of both mathematics and astronomy. Prof. Proctor
speaks of them as being " astronomers of great skilly*
and says, " they were manifestly skillful engineers and
architects, and as surely as they were well acquainted
with the properties of matter, so surely must they have
been acquainted with the mathematical relations upon
which the simpler optical laws depend. Possibly they
knew laws more recondite, hut the simpler laws they
certainly knew."f In Appendix 'A' to this author's
work on The Great Pyramid, we are told, in relation
to the amount of mathematical and astronomical knowl-
edge in their possession, that in these particulars "mod-
ern science has made no real advance upon the science
known to the builder of the great pyramid. "| In this
connection the opinion of Prof. Henry Draper, is inter-
esting. Speaking of the great pyramid he says: " So
accurately was that wonder of the world planned and
constructed, that at this day the variation of the compass
may actually be determined by the position of its sides. "§
Upon the ceiling of the beautiful temple of Dende-
rah there is a representation of the zodiac. It has been
claimed that this is a work of the Ptolemaic period; but
an inscription found at Denderah distinctly states that
the building had been restored in accordance with a
plan discovered in the writings of the Khufu, or Cheops,
who belonged to the fourth dynasty. Certainly this evi-
dence is strongly presumptive of the antiquity of this
celestial map.
In considering the amount of mathematical and
astronomical knowledge possessed by the Egyptian
priests, we must remember that they kept their cyclic
notations in the profoundest mystery, as their calculations
applied equally to the spiritual as to the physical pro-
gress of mankind.
The " Sacred Books " of the Egyptians were ascribed
to Hermes Trismegistus, and ante-dated Menes. They
were 1,100 in number, we are told by Tamblicus, and
forty-two were still extant in the time of Clement of
Alexandria. They contained an epitome of the secret
knowledge, and treated of many different subjects. The
majority of those books are now lost to us, and of them
we know only what has been preserved in the works of
later writers. Diogenes Laertius makes a statement,
* Proctor. The Great Pyramid, p. 127.
flbid., p. 11S.
% Ibid., p. 191. (Appendix "A," by Joseph Baxendell, F. K. A. S.)
§ Draper. Intellectual Development, Vol. I. p. Si.
Diog. Laer. Proem II.
probably derived from these lost books, that the Egyp-
tians possessed records of 373 solar eclipes and S32
lunar; and he carries back these observations to the
period of 48,863 years before Alexander. Bunsen*
remarks, "If they were actual observations they must
have extended over 10,000 years, for the ancients assur-
edly observed and reckoned none but total or almost
total eclipses." " In Egypt, if anywhere," says Dio-
dorus,y " the most accurate observations of the positions
and movements of the stars have been made. Of each
of these thev have records extending over an incredible
series of vears. They have also accurately observed the
courses and positions of the planets and can truly pre-
dict eclipses of the sun and moon." The truth of these
statements it would be folly to doubt, when we are
assured by HeroditusJ in the most positive terms, that
"thev knew these things with accuracy, because they
always computed and registered the years."
That portion of their calculations which was
regarded as the most secret, undoubtedly related to the
evolution of our planet, both physically and spiritually —
such evolution proceeding in cycles, of greater or lesser
duration. They taught that the close of the "great
vear" was attended by destructive cataclysms either of
fire or water — like that which in " one awful day and
night" submerged Atlantis beneath the waves, as told
to Solon by the Egyptian priests — and that a corres-
ponding change took place both in the physical and
intellectual world.
Astrologv was pursued hand in hand with the
higher mathematics and astronomy. Professor Proctor
seeks to prove in his work on the great pyramid that
that monument wqp reared not alone as a tomb for
Khufu, but for astronomical and astrological purposes
as well. Very likely this was so, but is it not possible
that there were also other reasons? Why was it oriented
with wonderful exactness? Why, of necessity, con-
structed in the pyramidal form, with its apex pointing
toward heaven? What meant the long secret passages,
and the seven impenetrable chambers, one succeeding
another? and what purpose did the great sarcophagus
serve which Professor Piazzi Smythe declares was used
for a corn-bin ?
Mystery surrounds us upon every side as we seek to
solve these problems of the past.
Astrology was believed in implicitly by the Egyp-
tians, and they considered unquestioned the influence of
the planets upon the destines both of individuals and the
human race collectively. Mr. Tylor,g speaking of as-
trology, says that "its professors appear to have been
the earliest to use the magnetic compass to determine
* Bunsen. Egypt's Place, Vol. I. p. 14.
I Diodorus Sir, 2-113,
* Book II., 145.
§ Tyler. Anthropology, p. 341.
THE OPEN COURT.
4y7
the aspects of the heavens," and admits that "the magi-
cian gave the navigator his guide in exploring the
world."
The Egyptians took careful note of all singular or
unusual occurrences, whether related to the heavenly
bodies or to themselves, and observed omens connected
with everything they undertook. They even watched
the day when any one was born.
Perhaps in no branches of science was their knowl-
edge more conspicuously apparent than in those of
chemistry and alchemy. It has been vigorously denied
that they understood anything more than the rudiments
of chemistry — and as for alchemy! the idea has been
treated with derision. A few instances will show their
superiority to modern achievements, and inference may
be left to do the rest. In the perfect imitation of
precious stones we have never even approached them.
Many splendid imitations of emeralds, amethysts, and
other gems of rich and varied hues, have been found in
the tombs of Thebes; and their brilliancy and perfec-
tion is such that the}- almost defy detection. Among
the immense emeralds mentioned by classic authors, was
the colossal statue of Serapis, in the Labyrinth, nine
cubits, or thirteen and a half feet in height, and com-
posed of one single stone. Sir Gardner Wilkinson and
the learned Winkleman speak in enthusiastic terms of
the beautiful specimens of stained glass —some of which
have the appearance of the most exquisite mosaics.
Egypt was an immensely rich country, and it may
be a pertinent question to ask, Whence came this enor-
mous wealth? We know that mines were worked for
gold and silver, that tributes were exacted from sub-
jugated nations, and that a goodly sum was derived
from the fisheries. But all these sources could not pro-
duce a tithe of her yearly revenue. Enough was spent
upon public decoration to bankrupt a state. Egypt
was yellow with gold! Besides the thousands of her
toys, jewels, statues and art objects of the solid metal,
we learn that the sculptures on lofty walls, the orna-
ments of a colossus, the doorways of temples, the caps
of obelisks, parts of numerous large monuments, and
even the roofs of palaces and the bodies of mummies
were covered with gold leaf.
The statue of Minerva sent to Cyrene by Amasis
and the sphinx at the pyramids are instances. Were
then the learned priests makers of gold? In the reign
of the Emperor Diocletian, the Egyptians rebelled
against Rome, and for nine years did not lack money to
carry on the war. Struck by their riches, the Emperor
instituted a strict search throughout the land for all
writings on alchemy. These books he ordered to be
burnt, hoping thus to destroy the secret of Egypt's
wealth.
It is useless to deny to these strange dwellers in the
old temples, a skill and a knowledge far beyond our
own, and which we can only wonder at and imitate, not
equal.
Magic in its highest sense was a part of the daily life
of the Egyptian priests.
Plato, we know, studied with these priests. Leckv*
tells us that " whenever his philosophy has been in the
ascendent it has been accompanied by a tendency to
magic." This magic was practiced by the priests in
divers ways, some of which we can only guess at.
They were seers, clairvoyants, diviners and dreamers of
dreams. They understood and manipulated the subtlest
properties of matter. No wonder they were not aston-
ished at the exhibitions of Moses, who had learned all
he knew in their own temples!
In their religious works, veiled as they are in sym-
bolism, we discover a belief in an all-pervading, universal
essence — call it the astral ether, or psychic force, or od,
or biogen, or akas, or what you will — from which
emanated all things, and which could be controlled and
directed by those who were instructed and otherwise
properly qualified. They believed in ghosts, and that
the living under certain well-known conditions could
communicate with the souls of the departed.
Gtrald Massey,f in discussing Egyptian terms, says
that "All that is secret, sacred, mystical, the innermost
of all mystery, apparently including some relationship
to or communion with the dead, is expressed by the
Egyptian word 'Shet;'" and in speaking of second-
sight or clairvoyance, he assures us distinctly that " the
ancients were quite familiar with this phenomenon."
No one who impartially examines the mass of evi-
dence derived from Egyptian and classic sources, can
fail to be impressed with the belief that the Egyptian
priests were perfectly familiar with all classes of psychic
phenomena, characterized as modern, and that they were
also in possession of secrets pertaining to the so-called
exact sciences, as well as of the occult, of which we
to-day have no knowledge or conception. We know of
a surety that many of their arts are lost — perhaps beyond
recovery. When shall we equal them in metallurgy?
When learn how to impart elasticity to a copper blade?
or to make bronze chisels capable of hewing granite?
Wilkinson* says, "We know of no means of tempering
copper, under any form or united with any alloys, for
such a purpose;" and adds, "We must confess that the
Egyptians appear to have possessed certain secrets for
hardening or tempering bronze with which we are
totally unacquainted."
After five millenniums the brilliancy of the colors
used by the Egyptian artist remains undimmed. After
seven millenniums we wonder at the durability of their
paper, and the lasting qualities of their wafer-like cement.
* Rationalism in Europe, Vol. I. p. 43.
\ Massey. Beginnings, Vol. II. pp. 34, 35.
% Wilkinson. Manners and Customs, Vol. II. p. 255.
49§
THE OPEN COURT.
We disinter the mummies which have rested undis-
turbed since the pyramids were built — and examine the
still perfect features, and the long hair, and the very
teeth filled with gold ages ago by Egyptian dentists
and we view with amazement the bandages 1,000
yards in length in which these forms are swathed — and
then we are obliged to confess that modern surgery can
not equal the bandaging, and modern medical art, and
modern chemistry are masters of no means by which a
human body may be preserved for 5,000 years.
When we have undisputed evidence as to their
achievements in these directions, is it the part of wisdom
to deny that they may have possessed other arts and other
sciences, which we are unable to equal or approxi-
mate ?
It has been asserted that the Egyptian priests were
frauds and charlatans — deceivers of the people, wily
tricksters, and the vicious worshippers of many Gods.
In the first place, none were admitted to the priesthood
save such as were especially fitted by their purity of life
and holiness of aspiration. The ordeals through which
candidates were obliged to pass were very severe, their
lives sometimes being exposed to great danger. The
priests were humble and self-denying and remarkable
for simplicity and abstinence. Plutarch* speaks of them
as " giving themselves up wholly to study and medita-
tion, hearing and teaching those truths which regard the
divine nature." They took great care to preserve from
profanation their secret rites, and excluded all who were
considered unfit to participate in solemn ceremonies.
Clement-}- says they were confined to those " who from
their worth, learning and station were deemed worthy of
so oreat a privilege." Nor was there motive, either for
o-ain or reputation. All the great priests, scholars and
sages could be, if they so desired, supported by the State
— ample accommodation being provided for them within
the temple precincts, where in quiet, ease and retirement,
they could pursue their deep researches and subtle
experiments.
They were worshipers of one only God, whose
very name was so sacred it was — according to Herodotus
— unlawful to utter; and their various divinities but per-
sonified some form of the divine attributes. Inter-
blended and inter-dependent we find Egyptian science
and religion. To understand the one we cannot remain
ignorant of the other. To the Egyptian his religion
was everything. He regarded his abode upon earth as
but a short journey upon the pathway of eternal life.
To the future which stretched before him he turned
with hope and longing. He did not believe that when
his short life closed, physical existence was ended. Again
and again, his religion taught, he would return to earth,
to work out in higher forms his spiritual salvation.
( This doctrine of re-incarnation, often called transmi-
gration or metempsychosis, has been generally grossly
misunderstood by writers who have attempted to explain
it). With this belief was connected the doctrine of the
"cycle of necessity." Can our Egyptologists say what
this cycle was? or what it signified? and can they further
tell what the winged scarabaei of Egypt symbolized?
which are found by the hundreds in the tombs of
Thebes! They cannot, I fear, tell us these things any
more than they can explain the septenary composition
of man, or his triune character; any more than they can
interpret the "unpronounceable" name, which Herodo-
tus dared not disclose!
Their code of ethics was singularly pure and exalted.
They believed not only in the negative virtues, but the
positive also; and, "A moral life, a life of holiness and
beneficence, was conceived of as being a matter of
solemn obligation to the Deity himself." The highest
principles alone were inculcated ; and always in the heart
of the Egyptian priest were treasured the words of his
great example — the noble prince and moralist — Ptah-
hotep; "Mind thee of the day when thou too shalt start
for the land to which one goeth to return not thence;
good for thee will have been a good life; therefore be
just and hate iniquity; for he who doeth what is right
shall triumph !"
Have modern scholars a surer guide to honor and
uprightness, than the old Egyptian Magist?
Have we any right to utter words of censure or con-
demnation?
Egvpt is dead. Her priests have passed away, and
buried with them in the recesses of impenetrable tombs,
lie her wisdom, her magic, and her glorv. Her greatest
of all foresaw her dread eclipse, and time has but veri-
fied the dark prophetic words of the mighty Hermes:
"O, Egypt, Egypt, of thy religion there will be left
remaining nothing but uncertain tales, which will be
believed no more by posterity — words graven on stone
and telling of thy piety!"
* Wilkinson. Manners and Crtstoms, Vol. III. p. 54.
f Ibid., Vol. III. p. 3S9.
THOUGHT WITHOUT WORDS.
The conclusion of correspondence between Mr.
Arthur Nicols, et al., and Professor Max Miiller on
" Thought Without Words," reprinted from Nature
after careful revision:
Mil. LETTER FROM MR. ARTIIFR NICOLS.
Watford, June 3, 1SS7.
The interesting discussion between Mr. Francis Galton and
Prof. Max Miiller on this subject will doubtless raise many ques-
tions in the minds of those who have paid some attention to the
habits of animals. I have been asking myself whether, if Prof.
Max Miiller is right in his conclusion — " Of course we all admit
that without a name we cannot really know anj'thing " (an utter-
able name, I presume), and " one fact remains, animals have no
language" — animals must not, therefore, be held by him incapable
of knowing anything. This would bring us to the question
THE OPEN COURT.
499
whether animals know in the same manner as men, or in some
other manner which men do not understand. Now, I think — at
least it is as strong a conviction as I am capable of entertaining —
that animals not only know, but deal with the materials of knowl-
edge— facts — in a manner quite indistinguishable from the man-
ner in which I mentally handle them myself. Thus, I place an
animal in circumstances which are quite unfamiliar to it, and from
which it is urgently pressed to escape. There are two, or per-
haps three, courses open to it; one being, to my mind, patently
the most advantageous. It tries all of them, and selects that
which I should have chosen myself, though it is much longer in
coming to its conclusion. Here the animal has the same facts as
the man to deal with, and, after consideration and examination,
its judgment precisely corresponds with the man's. I cannot, then,
find it possible to deny that the mental operations are identical in
kind; but that they are not so in degree can be demonstrated by
my importing into the situation an element foreign to the expe-
rience of the animal, when its failure is certain. It makes no dif-
ference whether the animal is under stress, or acting voluntarily.
It may frequently be found to choose the method which most
recommends itself to the man's judgment. Every student of ani-
mals is familiar with numbers of such cases. Indeed thev are
constantly being recorded in the columns of Nature, and abound
in all accepted works on animal intelligence. I am quite prepared
to admit that where there are two or more courses open to it the
animal will occasionally select that which presents the greatest
difficulties and labor most assiduously to overcome them, some-
times trying the remaining courses and returning to that which it
first chose. Darwin gives a good example of the honey-bee
(Origin of Species, p. 225, edition 1872). But no one will be sur-
prised at imperfect judgment or vacillation of will in an animal,
when such are common among men.
Prof. Max Muller lays down the very distinct proposition that
"animals have no language." I suppose ntterable language is meant.
Is this so? That their sign-language is both extensive and exact
(and even understood to some extent as between widely different
species) most naturalists, I apprehend, will entertain no doubt.
But has any species an utterable language? What is to be the
test of this? First there is the whole gamut of vocal expressions —
which even we understand — conveying the ideas of fain, pleasure,
unger, -warning. What sportsman who has stalked extremely shy
animals does not know the moment a bird or animal utters a cer-
tain note that he is discovered? If Prof. Max Muller will not
admit this to be language, I for one, must ask him what it is.
It conveys to others a distinct idea, in general if not in special
terms, and seems to me quite equivalent to " Oh dear!" "This is
nice " (expressed, I believe, in some African language by the redu-
plicated form num-num, the letter 11 having the same value as in
the Spanish manana), " Leave of," " Look out," " Come here,"
etc. Those who have heard animals calling to one another, par-
ticularly at night, and have carefully noted the modulations of
their voices (why should there be modulations unless they have a
definite value), will find it very hard to accept Prof. Max Miiller's
conclusion that "animals have no language." Every female
mammal endowed with any kind of voice has the power of saying
" Come here, my child," and it is an interesting fact beyond ques-
tion that the knowledge of this call is feebly or not at all inherited,
but must be impressed upon the young individual by experience.
Further, the young brought up by an alien foster-mother pay no
attention to the " Come here, my child," of the alien species. The
clucking of the hen meets with no response from the ducklings
she has reared, even when she paces frantically by the side of the
pond imploring them not to commit suicide. But let us creep up
under the banks of a sedgy pool at about this time of year. There
swims a wild duck surrounded by her brood, dashing here and
there at the rising Phryganidic. Now let the frightful face of man
peer through the sedges. A sharp "quack " from the duck, and
her brood dive like stones, or plunge into the reeds. She, at least,
knows what to say to them.
The already inordinate length of this letter precludes me from
offering any instances of the communication at specific intelligence
by means of the vocal organs of animals. I think it probable that
we far underrate the vocabulary of animals from deficient atten-
tion— and, I speak for myself, stupidity. Possibly Prof. Max
Muller has not yet examined " Sally," the black chimpanzee. If
not, he would surely be much interested. She is by no means
garrulous, but in spite of her poor vocal capacity, if he should still
consider that she " cannot really know anything" on that account,
I must have completely misinterpreted his letter to Mr. Galton.
Arthur Nicols.
xiv. letter from prof. max muller.
The Molt, Salcombe, July 4, 1S87.
As I found that you had already admitted no less than thir-
teen letters on 1113- recent work, Science of Thought, I hesitated
for some time whether I ought to ask 3-011 to admit another com-
munication on a subject which can be of interest to a very limited
number of the readers of Nature only. I have, indeed, from the
very beginning of my philological labors, claimed for the science
of language a place among the physical sciences, and, in one
sense, I do the same for the science of thought. Nature that does
not include human nature in all its various manifestations would
seem to me like St. Peter's without its cupola. But this plea of
mine has not as yet been generally admitted. The visible mate-
rial frame of man, his sense-organs and their functions, his nerves
and his brain, all this has been recognized as the rightful domain
of physical science. But beyond this physical science was not to
go. There was the old line of separation, a line drawn by
mediaeval students between man, on one side, and his works, on
the other; between the sense-organs and their perceptions; be-
tween the brain and its outcome, or, as it has sometimes been
called, its secretion — namely, thought. To attempt to obliterate
that line between physical science, on one side, and moral science,
as it used to be called, on the other, was represented as mere con-
fusion of thought. Still, here as elsewhere, a perception of
higher unity does not necessarily imply an ignoring of useful dis-
tinctions. To me it has always seemed that man's nature can
never be fully understood except as one and indivisible. His
highest and most abstract thoughts appear to me inseparable
from the lowest material impacts made upon his bodily frame-
And " if nothing was ever in the intellect except what was first
in the senses," barring, of course, the intellect itself, it follows
that we shall never understand the working of the intellect, un-
less we first try to understand the senses, their organs, their func-
tions, and in the end their products. For practical purposes, no
doubt, we may, nay we ought, to separate the two. Thus, in my
own special subject, it is well to separate the treatment of pho-
netics and acoustics from higher linguistic researches. We may
call phonetics and acoustics the ground floor, linguistics, the first
story. But as every building is one — the ground floor purposeless
without the first story, the first story a mere castle in the air with-
out the ground floor — the science of man also is one, and would
according to my opinion, be imperfect unless it included psy-
chology in the widest meaning of that term, as well as physi-
ology ; unless it claimed the science of language and of thought,
no less than the science of the voice, the ear, the nerves, and
the brain, as its obedient vassals. It was, therefore, a real satis-
faction to me that it should have been Nature where the questions
raised in my Science of Thought excited the first interest, provok-
ing strong opposition, and eliciting distinct approval, and I vent-
ure to crave your permission on that ground, if on no other, for
replying once more to the various arguments which some of your
most eminent contributors have brought forward against the
5°°
THE OPEN COURT.
fundamental tenet of m_v work, the inseparableness of language
and reason.
Many of my critics write as if they had never heard before of
the identity of language and reason. They call such a theory a
paradox, unconscious, it would seem, of the fact that to the great
majority of mankind all philosophy is a paradox, and unaware
likewise, that the same opinion has been held by some of the
greatest philosophers of antiquity, of the middle ages, and of
modern times. I have not invented that paradox. All I have
done or attempted to do is that, while other philosophers have
derived their arguments in support of it from mere theory, I have
taken mine from facts, namely the facts supplied by the science of
language.
Some of my critics again seem to have sniffed something
heterodox in this identity of language and reason, forgetting that
philosophy was never meant to be either orthodox or heterodox
in the theological sense of those words, and unaware likewise, as
it would seem, that this opinion has been held and defended by-
some of the most orthodox and some of the most heterodox of
modern writers. I shall mention two names only, Cardinal New-
man and M. Taine. Cardinal Newman in his Grammar of Assent
(p. S), where he tries to define ratiocination or reasoning, begins
by carefully separating from ratiocination, as I have done, all that
is purely sensuous or emotional, the promptings of experience,
common sense, genius, and all the rest, restricting "thought" to
what can be or has been expressed in words. He then proceeds:
"Let then our symbols be words; let all thought be arrested and
embodied in words. Let language have a monopoly of thought;
and thought go for only so much as it can show itself to be worth
in language. Let every prompting of the intellect be ignored,
every momentum of argument be disowned which is unprovided
with an equivalent wording, as its ticket for sharing in the com-
mon search after truth. Let the authority of actions, common
sense, experience, genius, go for nothing. Ratiocination thus
restricted and put into grooves, is what I have called Inference,
and the science which is its regulating principle, is Logic."
M. Taine pronounces quite as explicitly in favor of the theory
that reasoning, if properly restricted and defined, takes place by
means of words only, and cannot take place in any other way.
In his work, Dc V Intelligence (1S70), after distinguishing between
proper and common names, he shows that a common name is at
the same time general and abstract (Vol. I. p. 25), and that these
general and abstract names are really what we mean by general
and abstract ideas. " Partout ce que nous appelons une ide'e ge'ne-
rale nee d'ensemble, n'est qu'un nom; non pas le simple son qui
vibre dans l'air et e'branle notre oreille, 011 l'assemblage de lettres
qui noircisseut le papier et frappent nos yeux, non pas meme ces
lettres apercues mentalement, ou "ce son mentalement prononce\
mais ce son ou ces lettres doue\ lorsque nous les apercevons ou
imaginons, d'une proprtete' double, la proprtete' dMveiller en nous
les images des individus qui appartiennent a une certaine classe
de ces individus seulement, et la proprifftd de renai'tre toutes les
lois qu'un individu de cette meme classe et seulement quand un
individu de cette meme classe se presente a notre memoire ou a
notre experience."
" Ce ne sout pas les objets epais ni les objets ideaux que nous
pensons, — mais les caracteres abstraitsqui sout leurs generateurs;
ce ne sout pas les caracteres abstraits que nous pensons, mais les
noms communs qui leur correspondent! "
I may divide the letters published hitherto in Nature into
three classes, unanswerable, answered and to be answered.
I class as unanswerable such letters as that of the Duke of
Argyll. His Grace simply expresses his opinion, without assign-
ing any reasons. I do not deny that to myself personally, and to
many of your readers, it is of great importance to know what
position a man of the Duke's wide experience and independence
of thought takes with regard to the fundamental principle of all
philosophy, the identity of language and thought, or even on a
merely subsidiary question, such as the geneaological descent of
man from any known or unknown kind of animal. But I must
wait till the Duke controverts either the linguistic facts, or the
philosophical lessons which I have read in them, before I can
meet fact by fact, and argument by argument. I only note, as a
very significant admission, one sentence of his letter, in which the
Duke says: "Language seems to me to be necessary to the prog-
ress of thought, but not at all necessary to the mere act of think-
ing." This sentence may possibly concede all that I have been
contending for, as we shall see by and by.
I class as letters that have been answered the very instructive
communications from Mr. F. Galton, to which I replied in Nature
of June 2 (p. 101), as well as several notes contributed by corres-
pondents who evidently had read my book either very rapidly, or
not at all.
Thus, Hyde Clarke tells us that the mutes at Constantinople,
and the deaf-mutes in general, communicate by signs, and not by
words — the very fact on which I had laid great stress in several
parts of my book. In the sign-language of the American Indians,
in the hieroglyphic inscriptions of Egypt, and in Chinese and other
languages which were originally written ideographically, we have
irrefragable evidence that other signs, besides vocal signs or
vocables, can be used for embodying thought. This, as I tried to
show, confirms, and does not invalidate, my theory that we cannot
think without words, if only it is remembered that words are the
most usual and the most perfect, but by no means the only
possible signs.
Another correspondent, "S. F. M. Q.", asks how I account
for the early processes of thought in a deaf mute. If he had
looked at page 63 of my book, he would have found my answer.
Following Professor Huxley, I hold that deaf-mutes would be
capable of few higher intellectual manifestations than an orang or
chimpanzee, if they were confined to the society of dumb associates.
But, though holding this opinion, I do not venture to say that
deaf-mutes, if left to themselves, may not act rationally, as little
as I should take upon myself to assert that animals may not act
rationally. I prefer indeed, as I have often said, to remain a per-
fect agnostic with regard to the inner life of animals, and, for that,
of deaf-mutes also. But I should not contradict anybody who
imagines that he has discovered traces of the highest intellectual
and moral activity in deaf-mutes or animals. I read with the
deepest interest the letter which Mr. Arthur Nicols addressed to
you. I accept all he says about the sagacity of animals, and if I
differ from him at all, I do so because I have even greater faith in
animals than he has. I do not think, for instance, that animals,
as he says, are much longer in arriving at a conclusion than we
are. Their conclusions, so far as I have been able to watch them,
seem to me far more rapid than our own, and almost instanta-
neous. Nor should I quarrel with Mr. Nicols if he likes to call
the vocal expressions of pain, pleasure, anger, or warning, uttered
by animals, language. It is a perfectly legitimate metaphor to
call every kind of communication language. We may speak of
the language of the eyes, and ev%i of the eloquence of silence.
But Mr. Nicols would probably be equally ready to admit that
there is a difference between shouting "Oh!" and saying " I am
surprised." An animal may say " Oh!" but it cannot say "I am
surprised;" and it seems to me necessary, for the purpose of accu-
rate reasoning, to be able to distinguish in our terminology
between these two kinds of communication. On this point, too, I
have so fully dwelt in my book that I ought not to encumber
your pages by mere extracts.
I now come to the letters of Mr. Ebbels and Mr. Mellard
Reade. They both seem to imagine that, because I deny the
possibility of conceptual thought without language, I deny the
THE OPEN COURT.
5QI
possibility of every kind of thought without words. This objec-
tion, too, they will find so fully answered in my book, that I need
not add anything here. I warned my readers again and again
against the promiscuous use of the word " thought." I pointed out
(p. 29) how, according to Descartes, any kind of inward activity,
whether sensation, pain, pleasure, dreaming, or willing, may be
called thought; but I stated on the very first page that, like Hobbes,
I use thinking in the restricted sense of adding and subtracting.
We do many things, perhaps our best things, without addition or
subtraction. We have, as I pointed out on page 20, sensations and
percepts, as well as concepts and names. For ordinary purposes
we should be perfectly correct in saying that we can " think in
pictures." This, however, is more accurately called imagination,
because we are then dealing with images, presentations ( Vorstel-
lungeii), or, as I prefer to call them, percepts and not yet with
concepts and names. Whether in man and particularly in the
present stage of his intellectual life, imagination is possible with-
out a slight admixture of conceptual thought and language, is a
moot point; that it is possible in animals, more particularly in
■Sally, the black chimpanzee at the Zoological Gardens, I should
be reluctant either to deny or to affirm. All I stand up for is that,
if we use such words as thought, we ought to define them. Defi-
nition is the only panacea for all our philosophical misery, and I
am utterly unable to enter into Mr. Ebbels's state of mind when
he says : " This is a mere question of definition, not of actual fact."
When Mr. Ebbels adds that we cannot conceive the sudden
appearance of the faculty of abstraction together with its ready-
made signs or words, except by a miracle, he betrays at once that
he has not read my last book, the very object of which is to show
that we require no miracle at all, but that all which seemed mirac-
ulous in language is perfectly natural and intelligible. And if he
adds that he has not been able to discover in my earlier works any
account of the first beginnings of language, he has evidently over-
looked the fact that in my lectures on the science of language I
distinctly declined to commit myself to any theory on the origin
of language, while the whole of my last book is devoted to the
solution of that problem. My solution may be right or wrong,
but ij certainly does not appeal to any miraculous interference for
the explanation of language and thought.
There now remain two letters only that have really to be
answered, because they touch on some very important points,
points which it is manifest I ought to have placed in a clearer
light in my book. One is by Mr. Murphy, the other by Mr.
Romanes. Both have evidently read my book and" read it care-
fully; and if they have not quite clearly seen the drift of my
argument, I am afraid the fault is mine and not theirs. I am
quite aware that my Science of Thought is not an easy book to
read and to understand. I warned my readers in the preface that
they must not expect a popular bpok, nor a work systematically
built up and complete in all its parts. My book was written, as I
said, for myself and for a few friends who knew beforehand the
points which I wished to establish, and who would not expect me,
for the mere sake of completeness, to repeat what was familiar to
to them and could easily be found elsewhere. I felt certain that I
should be understood by them, if I only indicated what I meant;
nor did it ever enter into my mind to attempt to teach them, or to
convince them against their will. I wrote as if in harmony with
my readers, and moving on with them on a road which we had
long recognized as the only safe one, and which I hoped that
others also would follow, if they could once be made to see whence
it started and whither it tended.
Mr. Murphy is one of those who agree with me that language
is necessary to thought, and that, though it may be possible to
think without words when the subjects of thought are visible
things and their combinations, as in inventing machinery, the
intellectual power that invents machinery has been matured by
the use of language. Here Mr. Murphy comes very near to the
remark made bv the Duke of Argyll, that language seems neces-
sary to the progress of thought, but not at all necessary to the
mere act of thinking, whatever that may mean. But Mr. Mur-
phy, while accepting mv two positions — that thought is impossi-
ble without words, and that all words were in their origin
abstract — blames me for not having explained more fully on what
the power of abstraction really depends. So much has lately
been written on abstraction, that I did not think it necessary to
do more than indicate to which side I inclined. I quoted the
opinions of Aristotle, Bacon, Locke, Berkeley and Mill, and as for
myself I stated in one short sentence that I should ascribe the
power of abstraction, not so much to an effort of our will, or to
our intellectual strength, but rather to our intellectual weakness.
In forming abstractions our weakness seems to me our strength.
Even in our first sensations it is impossible for us to take in the
whole of every impression, and in our first perceptions we cannot
but drop a great deal of what is contained in our sensations. In
this sense we learn to abstract, whether we like it or not; and
though afterwards abstraction may proceed from an effort of the
will, I still hold, as I said on page 4, that though attention can be
said to be at the root of all our knowledge, the power of abstrac-
tion may in the beginning not be very far removed from the weak-
ness of distraction. If I had wished to write a practical text-book
of the science of thought, I ought no doubt to have given more
prominence to this view of the origin of abstraction, but as often
in my book, so here too, I thought safienti sat.
I now come to Mr. Romanes, to whom I feel truly grateful
for the intrepid spirit with which he has waded through my book.
One has no right in these days to expect many such readers, but
one feels all the more grateful if one does find them. Mr.
Romanes was at home in the whole subject, and with him what I
endeavored to prove by linguistic evidence — namely, that concepts
are altogether impossible without names — formed part of the very
A B C of his psychological creed. He is indeed almost too san-
guine when he says that concerning this truth no difference of
opinion is likely to arise. The columns of Nature and the opin-
ions quoted in my book tell a different tale. But for all that I am
as strongly convinced as he can be that no one who has once
understood the true nature of words and concepts can -possibly
hold a different opinion from that which he holds as well as I.
It seems, therefore, all the more strange to me that Mr.
Romanes should have suspected me of holding the opinion that
we cannot think without pronouncing or silently rehearsing our
thought-words. It is difficult to guard against misapprehensions
which one can hardly realize. Without appealing, as he does, to
sudden aphasia, how could I hold pronounciation necessary for
thought when I am perfectly silent while I an writing and while
I am reading? How could I believe in the necessity of a silent
rehearsing of words when one such word as "therefore" may
imply hundreds of words or pages, the rehearsing of which would
require hours and days? Surely, as our memory enables us to
see without eyes and to hear without ears, the same persistence of
force allows us to speak without uttering words. Only, as we
cannot remember or imagine without having first seen or heard
something to remember, neither can we inwardly speak without
having first named something that we can remember. There is
an algebra of language far more wonderful than the algebra of
mathematics. Mr. Romanes calls that algebra "ideation," a dan-
gerous word, unless we first define its meaning and lay bare its
substance. I call the same process addition and subtraction
of half-vanished words, or, to use Hegel's terminology, aufgeho-
bene Worte; and I still hold, as I said in my book, that it would
be difficult to invent a better expression for thinking than that of
the lowest barbarians, "speaking in the stomach." Thinking is
nothing but speaking minus words. We do not begin with thinking
5°i
THE OPEN COURT.
or ideation, and then proceed to speaking, but we begin with
naming, and then by a constant process of addition and subtrac-
tion, of widening and abbreviating, we arrive at what I call
thought. Everybody admits that we cannot count — that is to
say, add and subtract — unless we have first framed our numerals.
Why should people hesitate to admit that we cannot possibly
think, unless we have first formed our words ? Did the
Duke of Argyll mean this when he said that language seemed
to him necessary for the frogress of thought, but not at all for
the mere act of thinking ? How words are framed, the science
of language has taught us; how they are reduced to mere shad-
ows, to signs of signs, apparently to mere nothings, the science
of thought will have to explain far more fully than I have been
able to do. Mr. Romanes remarks that it is a pity that I should
attempt to defend such a position as that chess cannot be played
unless the player " deals all the time with thought- words and word-
thoughts." I pity myself indeed that my language should be liable
to such misapprehension. I thought that to move a "castle"
according to the character and the rules originally assigned to it
was to deal with a word-thought or thought word. What is
"castle" in chess, if not a word-thought or thought- word? I did
not use the verb " to deal " in the sense of pronouncing, or rehears-
ing, or defining, but of handling or moving according to under-
stood rules. That this dealing might become a mere habit I pointed
out myself, and tried to illustrate by the even more wonderful plav-
ingot music. But however automatic and almost unconscious such
habits may become, we have only to make a wrong move with the
"castle "and at once our antagonist will appeal to the original
meaning of that thought-word and remind us that we can move
it in one direction only, but not in another. In the same manner,
when Mr. Romanes takes me to task because I said that " no one
truly thinks who does not speak, and that no one truly speaks who
does not think," he had only to lay the accent on truly, and he
would have understood what I meant — namely, that in the true
sense of these words, as defined by myself, no one thinks who
does not directly or indirectly speak, and that no one can be said
to speak who does not at the same time think. We cannot be too
charitable in the interpretation of language, and I often feel that I
must claim that charity more than most writers in English. Still,
I am always glad if such opponents as Mr. Romanes or Mr. F.
Galton give me an opportunity of explaining more fully what I
mean. We shall thus, I believe, arrive at the conviction that men
who honestly care for truth, and for the progress of truth, must
in the end arrive at the same conclusions, though they mav
express them each in his own dialect. That is the true meaning
ot the old dialectic process, to reason out things bv words more
and more adequate to their purpose. In that sense it is true also
that no truth is entirely new, and that all we can aim at in philos-
ophy is to find new and better expressions for old truths. The
poet, as Mrs. A. Grenfell has pointed out in her letter to Nature
(June 23, p. 173), often perceives and imagines what others have
not yet conceived or named. In that sense I gladly call myself
the interpreter of Wordsworth's prophecy, that " the word is not
the dress of thought, but its very incarnation."
F. Max Mullek.
CORRESPONDENCE.
AN ARGUMENT FOR WOMAN SUFFRAGE.
To the Editors:
The movement is based on the fact that women are not suffi-
ciently represented by men. If they were, there would be no
agitation. And men are even less unfit for representing children
than for representing women. The child and the man differ
much more than the child and the woman, in character, in average
state of opinion (for instance about religion) and in amount of
home life. Most children have much more to do with the
mother than the father, as well as much more in common. The
women who are not mothers usually have something to do with
children as aunts, sisters, or teachers. The fact that the female
bird and the young are alike in plumage is not without a parallel
in our race; and neither is the fact that it is the female who stays
by the nest. When we consider how much children gain by a
government good enough to make the schools what they should
be, and how much they lose by a government bad enough to let
civil war, famine, or pestilence break out, we must admit that
their interests need as full a representation as possible. And this
cannot be given unless women vote. F. M. Holland.
RELIGION AND ITS CORRELATIONS.
To the Editors :
Religion, wisdom, science and knowledge are things that
should harmonize with each other; but to make one a basis for the
other as when we speak of a scientific basis for religion, does not
appear to be a correct use of terms. Religion as I understand it
(after a half century investigation of the constitution of man ) is
a fundamental element of human nature — a reverent love, which
relates to all that is good and great — but not to the great alone,
as many misconceive it. The stern spirit of the warrior recognizes
and adores power alone, and recognizes in the infinite mystery
of the universe only power and arbitrary will. This is the con-
ception embodied in churches which arose in barbaric ages. A
more perfect manhood recognizes happiness, benevolence and
beauty as well as power. Hence to the normal man and woman
there is an ample sphere and gratification for their reverence, love
and admiration, in the world of nature and humanity, as they are
continually around us, whether we look or not, beyond the appar-
ent to the ultimate occult power.
He who does not so look is commonly called an atheist, yet
the fact that he is more interested in the visible realities of which
he can have some understanding than in the invisible causes
which he thinks no one can understand, does not render him any
less a religious man if his emotional faculties are fully and nor-
mally developed. Indeed many of them who have been called
atheists were more truly religious than their bigoted opponents,
who, without true religion (without either reverence or love),
tyrannize fiercely over their fellows, and blindly believed in an
infinite tyrant whose very existence true religion makes us unwill-
ing to admit.- Who can doubt that Voltaire and Hume had a
fuller and purer religious nature than the majority of the church-
men of their time?
With this view, to which I think the disciples of Comte
should not object, and which would harmonize with the sentiments
of Mill, religion is an element of character highly congenial with
and promotive of the study of nature and attainment of all truth'
but absolutely rebellious against the harsh spirit which has been
organized in the so-called Christian church, which has inherited
its spirit from Constantine and Athanasius.
Now comes the question upon which modern thinkers divide.
Does this loving and reverent study of the universe — of man and
all that surrounds him — lead to the recognition of a grand, invisi-
ble and almost inconceivable power behind or within its phe-
nomena? Does not the fact that force is invisible and almost
inconceivable as to its basis or origin, and that all moving powers
of every kind, as well as all intelligence or organizing guidance, is
invisible, intangible and inaccessible to all our faculties except
reason, lead toward the opinion that the grand aggregate of power
and guiding capacity should be recognized as possessing the attri-
butes which appear in universal nature — an incalculable amount
of energy, of stability, and of benevolent organizing wisdom? If
the quality of producing good is called benevolence or love in
the: open court.
5°3
man, why mav not the same expression (since we have no other)
be applied to the infinite source of happiness, of joy and beauty,
though we are unable to comprehend it?
However, the reader may decide that question in reference
the Great Unknown, I must claim that in a strictly inductive
spirit we are advancing steadily, if not rapidly, as I think, toward
a better understanding or conception of the Great Unknown,
guided or rather impelled by the religious spirit (which is not the
spirit of the church) which leads us to recognize all the rare and
marvelous facts of the universe as exponents of its mysteries.
In that reverent and loving spirit we recognize in ourselves
and our fellows an intelligence, love and will which though inac-
cessible to physical science are really powers that act upon and
with matter, and being thus, forces in the highest sense of the
word force, as well as self conscious powers, they cannot ration-
ally be supposed to pass into nonentity with the decomposition ot
the body, any more than caloric can be supposed to pass into
annihilation when the steam which it sustained is condensed into
water. This argument from analogy and from the persistence of
force, may not be imperatively conclusive, but becomes conclusive
when the scientist who traces the lost caloric of steam, succeeds
as well in tracing the lost intelligence and will which survive the
body, which have been recognized by millions and which the most
rigidly accurate and careful experiments of scientists in the last
thirty years have demonstrated to be as perfect in their disem-
bodied state as they ever were in their embodied form and
location.
To the prejudice which resists the acceptance of such testi-
mony I would say it is not compatible with a just respect for our
fellow beings. The honorable scientist should ever be encour-
aged to persist in the fearless pursuit of truth b3' the candid and
courteous reception of his verified statements, and the refusal to
receive them and to test them is not the spirit of free inquiry but
the spirit of intolerant bigotry which has so long dominated alike
in the church, in the learned professions, and in government.
I hold that the absolute demonstration of the continued life
of man as a spiritual being carries us very far on the way to
recognize spiritual power of a transcendently greater nature and
capacity, to the conception of which advancing science will surely
lead us.
Returning to the question of religion, which as a sentiment
embraces all that is great, wise and good, does it not necessarily
embrace the spiritual world of disembodied humanity, and the
power which is above all — but can it be confined to the invisible.'
I trow not. Our love, hope and poetic fervor reach out first to
that which is seen, and from the seen advance to the unseen; but
the religion that reaches only to the seen is none the less a genu-
ine religion and is far more a true religion, than the vindictive and
credulous impulses which recognize in fear the imaginary tyrant
of the universe. Joseph Rodes Buchanan.
TOLSTOI.
To the Editors :
The article by W. D. Gunning, in the issue of The Open
Court of September 1st, is a valuable contribution to your paper,
It will deepen and extend the already lively interest awakened in
the religious world by the late publication of My Religion, by
Count Tolstoi. It will also serve to sharpen the public appetite
for the promised two volumes now in preparation by the same
author, namely, A Criticism on Dogmatic Theology and a IVew
Translation of the Four Gospels. Hosts of those who have read
My Religion cannot but regret that Tolstoi should be hindered,
even for a moment, from accomplishing his work, by dabbling in
the unimportant business of cobbling shoes and working in the
field. He has more pressing work upon his hand — that of unfold-
ing and making clear to prince and peasant the doctrine of Jesus.
That doctrine -will rule the world, when it is seen and felt in its
tivine simplicity.
Mr. Gunning says, " Resist evil by whatever means will prove
■ftective." But the world's doctrine, an eye for an eye, a tooth for
a tooth, says Tolstoi, has never proved itself effective. It has
only aggravated the evil. Now leave the doctrine of the world
and apply earnestly the doctrine of Jesus. This certainly seems
to be a reasonable demand. The whip which lacerates the body
has thus far had but indifferent success in the expulsion of evil.
Satan cannot cast out Satan. Jesus said to the sinning woman —
go, and sin no more. This would be a very lax way of dealing
with social evil say those who still adhere to the Mosaic code.
Nothing short of stoning her to death will prove effectual. For-
giveness, kindness, tender sympathy for the fallen are only a
premium on vicious conduct.
Very well, we now have presented face to face Mr. Gunning's
remedy for evil and that of Tolstoi's. If we must choose either, I
certainly greatly prefer the latter remedy. It seems more rational,
more human, more divine, more efficient, more satisfactory every
way. For myself I have tried to live out the doctrine of Jesus for
more than fourscore years, and do not feel that I have suffered for
it in body, or mind or estate. I do not think the world at large would
suffer by carrying out the precepts of Jesus in their full scope and
spirit. That the Church has not carried them out proves only its
weakness and its conformity to the doctrine of the world. I
rejoice that there are even a few in the world who have not bowed
down to Baal, but have stood bravely for the truth as exemplified
in the life and teachings of the wise man of Nazareth. j. s. b.
BOOK REVIEWS.
Ueber religiose und wissenschaftliche Weltan-
schauung. Ein historisch-kritischer Versuch von Prof. Dr.
L. Biichner. Verfasser von " Kraft und Stoff," u. s. w.
Leipzig: Verlag von Theodor Thomas, 1S87.
This handsomely printed pamphlet of 75 pages is a greatly
enlarged edition of the address given by the famous author of
Force and Matter, before the Freidenker-Bund, or association of
German freethinkers, at Apolda, Saxony, May 31, 1SS5, on the
conflict between religious and scientific views. As now published,
the essay begins by defining religion as faith in spiritual beings,
and in supernatural powers which rule as they please over nature
and men. With a religion which seeks to realize all its ideals in
this earthly life, and in the relations of man to man, Prof. Biich-
ner has no controversy. Starting thus with the common and
time-honored definition of religion, he goes on to tell how it origi-
nated in ignorance of the causes of natural phenomena, dreams
for instance. The earliest scientific discoveries were favorably
received; and there was but little persecution of new views before
the appearance of Christianity, with such excessively spiritual and
unwordly aims, as well as with such blind reliance on revelation,
as made the conflict between religion and science inevitable. The
various phases of this struggle are related with great descriptive
power down to the close of the thirteenth century. Nothing is
said, however, of the next hundred and fifty years, during which
the papacy was attacked successively by Philip of France, Dante,
Louis of Bavaria, Ockham, Rienzi, Tauler, Wycliffe and Huss.
The omission is especially to be regretted, because this is also the
period of the revival of learning, as well as of the new birth o(
literature, art and commerce. These secularizing influences are
too important to be disregarded ; and the latter part of the historical
survey is not only much less minute than the earlier portion but
less accurate, for instance in putting Tindal, Shaftesbury and Mira-
baud in the seventeenth century instead of the eighteenth. These
defects are pointed out in hope that they will be corrected in
5°4
THE OPEN COURT,
'ater editions, as well as in the English translation, which will be
eagerly expected.
Dr. Biichner's real ability as an historian is manifest, as he
shows how the excesses of the French Revolution have tempted
wealthy, powerful and cultivated people to abandon the cause of
free thought, which is now in consequence obliged to look for its
most zealous champions to the working classes. What has been
lost through the failure of the thinkers and scholars of the nine-
teenth century to take up religion as boldly as those of the
eighteenth, has been more than made good, he says, by the
mighty activity and brilliant discoveries of science. She has
brought to light a number of facts which are utterly irreconcilable
with the vital and fundamental principles of theology. No con-
cession or compromise can do away with this irrepressible con-
flict between religion and science, nature and revelation, church
and progress, faith and knowledge. The gap between these two
views is rapidly becoming too wide for people long to continue to
hold with both sides at once. Those who do this are already
beginning to find it unprofitable; and it will soon be impossible.
And philosophy is as badly off as religion. No one with a
sound mind believes in the Abracadabra and proposition-jingle of
the metaphysical wizards and conjurers. Since it has been proved
scientifically, that man is a product of nature, closely connected
with all other organisms and governed in every respect by uni-
versal physical laws, so that whatever he knows is a result of
natural processes, all attempts to go back to Kant have become
useless; and the mysterious "Thing-in-itself " under whose pro-
tecting wings refuge has been sought for all the metaphysico-
theological paraphernalia has been found out to be only a cloak
for ignorance or indecision in philosophy. If there were a
" Thing-in-itself" it could never become a subject for thought; as
men have no relations with it, and only visionaries and ghost-seers
profess to have seen any indications of its influence.
People ask us what we can give to atone for taking away
all that has made life supportable. Let us answer with an
ancient Roman, saving: u Diis extinctis^ deoque successit hutnan-
itasf" ''As belief in God departs, faith in man arrives!" Man
has been lost in a wilderness of religious illusions and theological
controversies; but he will be restored to himself by scientific and
liberal views. Into the place of the wretched slave of supra-
mundane powers steps the self-reliant man who knows that he
owes all his material and mental riches to nature and to himself,
and that he is able to raise himself far higher than he has yet
attained. Paradise is not behind but before us, and is not to be
reached by divine grace and help but by human struggles to
escape from all the countless relics of barbarism, and especially
from what have been and always will be the worst enemies of
man — superstition, ignorance and dread of the supernatural. This
effort after happiness and truth for ourselves and others is the
foundation of the Freethinkers' religion. For we, too, have a
religion, an ideal conception to which we can devote our powers;
a faith not in the supernatural but in what is higher and better, in
something above the present state of man and nature — not an
aim forever unattainable, but one within our ultimate reach.
Here again we come into full opposition to the religious view that
God orders all things as they ought to be, so that every inde-
pendent effort of ours to make any improvement can be only a
sinful violation of the rights of the Omnipotent. F. M. H.
The prevailing philosophy among Americans is an extreme
optimism, "in consequence whereof pain and misery must be
considered as the result of error and ill-will, both due, as at
present the phrase goes, 'to the degradation and shackling of the
science of political economy.' [Progress and Poverty^ The
philosophy for the people which Mr. Cherouny proposes is "pure
and undefiled pessimism." Pessimism teaches "that there are
limits to the human will and its light, the intellect," and " the
application of the doctrines of pessimism to matters of govern-
ment * * * were the foundation of the policy of those fathers
of the Revolution who are known in history by the name of the
Federalists."
Thus Mr. Cherouny attempts a combination of Schopen-
hauer's philosophy with Hamilton's statesmanship. He trusts to
find in the restriction of the individual will, the ethical basis for a
strong government.
In political economy the editor of the Philosophy for the Peo-
ple compares the Unions of to-day with the mediaeval guilds.
Both are very much alike in origin and development — even the
boycott existed, under another name. " Socialism," Mr. Cherouny
says, " with its destructive optimism and exaggerated pessimism,
cannot enlighten the future. Its well-meaning propagators — the
Powderlys, McGlynns, Georges — are conjuring up spirits they
cannot control." As a remedy is proposed : " The United
States must change their policy, not their form of government."
Instead of viewing national economy from the standpoint of a
business man and applying to the whole the measure of an indi-
vidual, the science must in the future look upon industrial life
from the national point of view; whence all appear as one body
with interests entirely different from and often adverse to those of
individual business men."
Two sketches are attached to the first number, " Unhappi-
ness" and "Happiness;" the former to a great extent is a free
translation of a famous passage from Schopenhauer, the latter is
imbued with the spirit of Schopenhauer's philosophy.
Far from agreeing in every respect with Mr. Cherouny's
theories, we nevertheless expect that his publication will do much
good. The unbounded optimism and individualism of Americans
needs a corrective, and although I should not like to see our
youthful nation drift into pessimism, the study of and acquaint-
ance with pessimistic thinkers would prove of great advantage.
Philosophy for the People. Quarterly. New York : The
Cherouny Printing and Publishing Co., 1887.
Mr. Henry Cherouny, the editor and, at least in the first num-
ber, sole contributor of this quarterly, undertakes to contend
"against popular prejudices as well as against those speculists
who never touch truth but to distort it, nor any sound principle
but to drive it to extremes."
The Art Amateur for October is especially rich in its pic-
torial illustrations. A print in oils of an old wind-mill is very
strong and effective. The wood-cut of a group of armed horse-
men, from Edouard Detaille, is vigorous and spirited, and several
cattle pieces, by Emile Van Mauke, are very well rendered.
An interesting criticism on this painter leads us to examine these
prints more carefully. Victor Dargon Gladiolis strike us as too
crowded, and Edith Scannell's neatly drawn figures are just what
they have always been. The designs are good, especially the
"pomegranates," by Sarah Wynfield Higgin, and the design for
a wood panel, by C. M- Jenckes. There is much informa-
tion in regard to " tricks of the trade." A curious case has
occurred in New York of the arrest of a fellow selling trashy pic-
tures by gas-light. The prosecuting attorney justified the police-
man on the ground of an old State law forbidding picture auctions
after dark. The Mayor declares that the law, since it is a law,
must be enforced, as it is the fashion in that city to hold picture
sales by night. This decision has caused some excitement among
picture dealers. Some interesting extracts are given from Madame
Cave's Drawing from Memory. This book attracted some atten-
tion thirty or more years ago. The main point of it is that a
pupil should make a tracing of a picture, and then from memory
draw the important points so accurately that they will stand the
test of being matched with the tracing. So great an authority as
Delacroix gave it his commendation, thinking it a good method
to secure accuracy in lengths and for shortenings. As the popu-
lar direction in drawing has of late turned so far from thorough-
ness and correctness, it is well to call attention to this book,
although its methods may seem too mechanical. "Montezuma"
cannot be happy without another ill-natured fling at Miss Gard-
ner, which we presume will not hurt her, and Greta writes her
gossiping letter from Boston. The technical instructions in
painting and photography are valuable, and must help the solitary
amateur very much.
The Open Court
A Fortnightly Journal,
Devoted to the Work of Establishing Ethics and Religion Upon a Scientific Basis.
Vol. I. No. 19.
CHICAGO, OCTOBER 27, 1887.
i Three Dollars per Year.
I Single Copies, 15 cts.
PERSONA.
BY PROF. F. MAX MULLER.
Part I.
If all our thoughts are embodied in our words, it
follows that the best way to study the growth of our
thoughts is to study the growth of our words. We
know that almost every word has a number of mean-
ings even now, and if we trace words back from century
to century, we are often astonished at the variety of
purposes which they have been made to serve. The
philosopher by profession may, if he likes, ignore all
this. He has a perfect right to say, this word shall in
future mean this and nothing else. It would be a bless-
ing if every philosopher would do this, and though it
does not follow that language would always obey his
sic volo, sic jubeo, yet we should at all events be far
better able to follow his own nights of fancy. But apart
from what, according to our opinion, certain words
ought to mean, there is a far more important question,
namely, what certain words have meant, and how they
came to mean what they meant. In this lies the whole
problem of the origin and growth of our thought.
And if the Science of Thought is ever to assume a posi-
tive character, if historical facts are ever to take the
place of mere speculation in the analysis of our mind,
it can be done in one way only, namely, by studying in
a truly historical spirit the continuous growth of our
words. One instance will show better what I mean
than lengthy arguments. Let us take such words as
person, personal, personality. They are now very
abstracts terms. In fact, nothing can be more abstract
than person. It is neither male nor female, neither
young nor old. As a noun it is hardly more than what
to be is as a verb. In French it may even come to mean
nobody. For if we ask our Concierge at Paris whether
anybody has called on us during our absence, he will
reply, " Personne, monsieur" which means, '•'■Not a
soul, sir."
Of course person is the Latin persona. It came to
us from Rome, but the journey was long and its adven-
tures many.
In Latin persona meant a mask, made of thin wood
or clay, such as was worn by the actors at Rome. It is
curious that while the Greek actors always wore these
masks, the Roman actors did not adopt them at first.
Thus while nearly all technical Latin terms connected
with the theatre were borrowed from Greek, the name
for mask, -puauxov, was never naturalized in Italy. The
story goes that a famous actor, Roscius Gallus (about
100 B.C.), introduced masks, which had been unknown
before on the Roman stage, because he had the misfor-
tune to squint. This may or may not be true, but I
confess it sounds to me a little like a story invented by
malicious friends. Anyhow it is strange that, if Roscius
had introduced masks simply in order to hide certain
blemishes of his face, the name given to them in Latin,
possibly by Roscius Gallus himself, should have been
persona, i.e. that which causes the voice to sound. We
can understand why the Greeks called their masks wp6-
auiTov, which means simply what is before the face, the
mask thus worn being meant to indicate the character
represented by each actor on the stage. To us it seems
almost incredible that the great Greek actors should
have submitted to such mummeries, and should have
deprived themselves of the most powerful help in act-
ing, the expression of the face. But so it was, and we
are told that it was necessary, because without these
prosopa, which contained some acoustic apparatus to
strengthen the voice of the actor, they could not have
made themselves heard in the wide and open-air theatres
of Greece.
Why these masks should have been called persona
in Latin, i.e. through-sounder, requires no further
explanation; but the story of Roscius Gallus, the squint-
ing actor, becomes thereby all the more doubtful,
particularly if we remember that Plautus already was
able to use the diminutive persolla in the sense of " You
little fright!" (Plaut. Cure. i. 3. 36.)
I see no reason to doubt that persona, as a feminine,
was a genuine Latin word, the name of an instrument
through which the voice could be made to sound, and
more particularly of the mask used by Greek actors.
Gellius (v. 7) informs us that a Latin grammarian
who had written a learned work on the origin of words,
Gavius Bassus by name, derived persona from per-
sonare, to sound through, because "the head and mouth
being hidden everywhere by the cover of the mask and
open only through one passage for the emission of the
voice, drives the voice, being no longer unsettled and
diffused, into one exit only, well gathered together, and
thus makes it sound more clear and melodious. And
because that mask makes the voice of the mouth clear
5°6
THE OPEN COURT.
and resonant, therefore it has been called persona, the o
being lengthened on account of the form of the word."
I should have thought that with regard to the origin
and the formation of a word which had become current
at Rome not so very long before his time, the testimony
of a scholar such as Gavius Bassus was, would have
carried considerable weight. But no; there is nothing
that scholars, who can discover nothing else, like so
much as to discover a false quantity. The o in the Latin
adjective persouus, they say, is short, that in persona is
long. No doubt it is, and Gavius Bassus was well
aware of it, but he says the o was lengthened on account
of the form of the word. Is not that clear enough for
a grammarian ? Are there not many words in which
the vowel is lengthened or strengthened on account of
the form of the word ? Have we not in Sanskrit the
same root, svan, which froms svdna, sound, but svdtia,
sounding?
However, before we enter on the defence of our own
derivation, let us see whether our opponents can produce
a more plausible one. Scaliger, the great Scaliger, in
order to avoid a false quantity, went so far as to derive
persona from irepi opii, what is round the body, or even
from -ept^uadai, to gird round. Is not this straining at a
gnat and swallowing a camel ? We have only to
consider that such an etymology was possible, and possi-
ble with a Scaliger who, taking all in all, was perhaps
the greatest classical scholar that the world has ever
known, in order to see how completely classical schol-
arship has been purified and reinvigorated by compara-
tive philology. Would even the most insignificant of
Greek professors now venture on such an etymology
which, not much more than three hundred years ago,
was uttered without any misgivings by the prince of
classical scholars?
About a hundred years later, another great author-
ity, Vossius, the author of an Ety?nologicum Alagnum,
represented persona as a corruption of the Greek pro-
sopon. Now it is quite true that the Romans made sad
havoc with some of the words which they adopted from
Greek, but we may go through the whole Tensaurns
Palo-graccus, lately published by Saalfeld (1SS4), with-
out finding anything approaching to such violence.
However, I must confess classical scholars are not the
only offenders. Professor Pott, the Nestor of compara-
tive philologists, rather than incur the suspicion of
committing a false quantity, suggests that persona may
be a corruption, if not of prosopon, at least of a possible
adjective prosopina, while the change of prosopina into
persona might be justified by the analogous change of
Persephone into Proserpina. I do not think that the
equation Persephone: Proserpina^ prosopina : persona
would be approved of by many mathematicians, and
there remains besides the other objection that Perse-
phone was a real Greek word, but prosopina was not.
We must try to find out, therefore, whether Latin
could not have formed two words, one personns, mean-
ing resounding, and another persona, meaning a resound-
ing instrument. It is well known that the radical
vowels i and u are constantly strengthened in certain
derivatives. I still think that the best name for that
change is Guva, but if it is thought better to begin with
the strong vowels or rather diphthongs ai and au, and
call i and u their weakened forms, I do not think that
we either lose or gain much by this change of fashion.
I hold that what Hindu grammarians have explained as
Guna, or strengthening, accounts best for such words as
dux, dncis and duco,Jjdcs and j~idus, dicax and dico, etc.
Exactly the same process would account for sono
and personus by the side of persona. We are not sur-
prised at sopor and sopio, toga and contdgiiifn, sagax
and sdgus, placidus and pldcare, even sedere and
scdare. We have in Sanskrit dsu, quick, in Greek,
(JM-f, in Latin oc-ius, all derived from a root, .-Is, which
preserves its short vowel in acus and acntus. We know
that causative verbs in pirticular lengthen, if possible,
their short vowel, as we see in sopire, pldcare, scdare.*
If therefore our phonetic conscience pricks us, all we
have to do is to admit a causative formation of sonare,
and persona would then mean exactly what it does
mean, namely something which causes the voice to sound
through. In fact persona by the side of sottare is no
more irregular than perjugis, continual, by the side of
jug, in conjiix, coujugis.
Whoever invented or started this word, whether a
squinting actor or some maker of musical instruments
at Rome, had certainly no idea of what would be the
fate of it. It is a very fascinating, though, no doubt, a
very mischievous amusement, to roll down stones from
the crest of a hill. Some start away briskly, but come
to a sudden stop. Others roll down slowly, and after a
time vanish from our sight. But now and then a quite
insignificant pebble will strike against other stones, and
they will roll down together, and loosen a large stone
that was only waiting for a slight push. And down
they go, like an avalanche of earth and dust, tearing up
the turf, uprooting trees, jumping high into the air, and
making havoc all along their course, till they settle down
at last in the valley, and no one can say how these
strange boulders came to be there. So it is with words.
Many are started, but they will not roll. Others roll
away and nothing seems to come of them. But this
word persona has rolled along with wonderful bounds,
striking right and left, suggesting new thoughts, stirring
up clouds of controversy, and occupying to the present
day a prominent place in ali discussions on theology and
philosophy, though few only of those who use it know
how it came to be there.
♦Corsscn, Uber Aussprache des Lateinischen. Vol. I. p. 391 seq. ; Htib-
schmann, lntiogermanischer Vocalismus, p. 57.
THE OPKN COURT.
507
Persona proved to be a very handy and useful word,
and I hardly know what we should have done without
it. In languages which do not possess such a word
whole trains of thought are missing which we express
by distinguishing between the mask and its wearer.
Both came to be called persona, and hence a double
development in the meanings of the word.
When persona was taken in its first meaning of
mask, representing not the real, but the assumed char-
acter of an actor, nothing was more natural than to say,
for instance, of a dishonest man that he was wearing a
persona. Thus persona took the sense of false appear-
ance, and Seneca (Ep. 24. 13) was able to say that we
ought to remove the mere appearance or persona, not
only from men, but also from things: Non hominibus
tautum, scd et rebus persona dementia est et reddendo.
facies sua. Personatus was used of a man who had to
appear different from what he really was, and Cicero,
writing to Atticus (15. 1. 4), exclaimed, £hiid est cur
ego personatus ambulem? "Why should I walk about
in an assumed character? " We speak of personating
in a slightlv different sense, namely, when some one,
for fraudulent purposes, tries to pass for some one else.
In Latin, however, persona was not always used in the
sense of a deceptive appearance, for we see Cicero
remarking that " lie who teaches philosophy takes upon
himself a very serious part:" Qui philosophiam pro-
fitetnr, gravissimam mini sustinere videtur personam
(Cic. in Pis. cap. 29 ).
THE OLD MAN OF THE SEA.
BY PROF. W. D. GUNNING.
In boyhood I was entertained by the story of the
Arabian Nights. My sympathies were roused by the
plight of Sindbad, the sailor, going about with the Old
Man of the Sea on his shoulders. I did not allegorize,
I did not spiritualize. I had no new wine for old bot-
tles. I knew Sindbad only as a sailor and the wrinkled
old man only as one who had been a stroller on his own
limbs till he found portage on Sindbad. I wondered
why Sindbad took him. I thought the old man must
have said: "You see I am in a helpless plight. You
see how old, withered and weazen I am. I am very
light. I have wandered along this shore so long there
is nothing left of me but a shriveled skin over rickety
bones. Let me sit on your shoulder just a little while.
I am so light you will hardly feel me and you have
only to tell me when you are tired and I will dismount."
The silly sailor heard and yielded. The wily old man
climbed up, locked his legs firmly around Sindbad's
breast and stuck there to the end of life.
All " which thing," as Paul would say, is an allegory.
Sindbad is not a man, but Man. The Old Man of the
Sea is not time-wrinkled, but Time. He is past time.
He is the Past. He comes to man and says: "I am
very old. I have marked the tides on the shore of this
island in the sea of worlds till other worlds have grown
dim with age. This scythe wherewith I clip the gen-
erations has mown down such myriad lives as to make
the crust of the globe impact of their skeletons. The
world was growing old when I passed before the cra-
dle of humanity. I made record of the faltering steps
of infant man. I knew him when he knew not me.
I knew him when he conceived of me as a something
'cut-off' and called me 'time,' that is, a thing cut. In
the very life-stuff of the race I recorded the tattooing of
the mind with superstition. Take me on your shoulder.
I will guide your feet. I will sit lightly."
Man heard and yielded, and the Old Man mounted
and locked his limbs around our breast and laid his
hand on our brain. And there he sits, bestriding us as the
Old Man of the Sea bestrode Sindbad. In his left
hand he carries the ripe sheaves of error; in his right
the seeds of truth. .Shake him off we cannot. How
he clings to us in the very names we give him! Why
do we divide a day into twenty-four hours and an hour
into sixty minutes? It is because, long ago, shepherds
on the plains of Babylonia happened to divide the day
into twenty-four parts and one of these into sixty. It is
because Nebuchadnezzar happened to adopt the time-
scale of the shepherds. It is because Hipparchus jour-
neying to Babylon, found and took to Athens the time-
division of the Chaldeans. From Babylon it journeyed
to Athens, from Athens to Rome, from Rome to the
world, from the world of Rome down the ages till its
foot-prints are on the face of your watch. The Old
Man guides your hand when you paint the numbers on
the dial of a clock.
Why is our notation decimal? It is because nature,
having wrought indefinitely as to arithmetic, came to
the number five for the digits on a mammal's foot, a
number which she held and passed up into the fingers ot
a man. The first men counted on their fingers, and
because the bathmodon which preceded man on his line
had five toes our notation is decimal. The Old Man
lays his hand on your brain when you stamp your coin
or your paper in denominations often. How he presses
on the brain of the pugilist, who calls his fist " a bunch
of fives," the very name used by Hesiod in the dawn of
the mind life of Greece!
Why do we wear the marriage ring? It is because
the shaggy man of the prime wooed his wife with a club
and led her to his cave with a rope on her wrist. When
the age of iron came the thing was passing into a symbol.
The tie of the rope gave place to a rime of iron. The
symbolism passed from the wrist to the finger, from iron
to gold, but still, in parts of Germany, the bride, for a
time, must wear iron. How lightly the Old Man sits
on a lady's finger whispering servitude where a man
had whispered love!
5°8
THB OPEN COURT.
Why do less developed men in parts of Ireland, at a
wedding, make pretence of capturing a bride and taking
her away by force? It is a shadow cast down the slope
of centuries from a cruel reality.
Why do we perpetrate the folly of robing ourselves
in black after the death of a friend ? It is because our
unloving ancestors disguised themselves so that the
dreaded ghost whose body they were burying would
not know them and therefore could not haunt them.
The Old Man sits heaviest on our shoulder at the tomb,
in the church, and by the throne. There is hardly a
funeral custom to-day whose root is not in a ceremony
of the ancient man to bar out an ancient ghost.
An Anglican bishop once said to me that in matters
of the church, when they would mend the creed or the
ritual they did as those who mend an old riddle. They
mend an old fiddle with a piece of another old fiddle.
And so with the harp of Zion, every new-born church
which would mend it still uses a piece of the harp of
David or timbrel of Deborah.
The costume which we cast off centuries ago is still
the costume of royalty. Royalty, like religion, delights
to robe itself in cast-off customs and costumes. Incest
continued to be royal after it had ceased to be common.
The Incas married Coyas, their sisters. Herod married
his sister, Cleopatra her brother.
Let the Old Man speak from a remoter past. Abra-
ham married his half sister. In explaining to Abimelek
a falsehood which he had taught her to speak, he said,
" True, she is my sister, the daughter of my father, not
the daughter of my mother, and therefore she became my
wife." It is as if he had said, " If we had been of the same
mother custom would not have tolerated our marriage.
Kinship goes through the mother." The act of Abra-
ham was the outcrop of an old stratum. His words to
Abimelek are as the label of a geologist on a stratum of
the globe. I read it thus: In this stratum, as old in the
history of man as the Potsdam sandstone in the history
of the earth, a number of men held a wife in common.
Polyandry is older than polygamy. Abrasions from
this stratum will pass far down in the history of man
and Rome will write in her law " -partus seqiiitur ven-
trum" and America will translate it into her slave code
" The chain follows the mother." The Old Man on our
shoulder was holding the pen for every president who
sat in that White House in Washington, till Lincoln.
He had taken us to Palestine and was telling us
something of deep significance. Abraham stands out
from the door of his tent in Mamie a dim form on the
horizon line between history and fable. The language
of his race will tell us in another way what he told with-
out knowing it, to Abimelek. The Hebrew language
had no word for uncle and consequently no word for its
co-relative, nephew. The language did not discrimi-
nate between a father and a father's brother. It implied
a state of society in which a number of brothers held a
wife in common. From this state of polyandry Abra-
ham had passed, but the Old Man who bestrides us,
already old, was bestriding him and saying, " You must
not marry your mother's daughter, although you can
wed without blame the daughter of your father." Now
the Semitic is a very old race. We can trace all the
races of Europe and the Hindu and Persian of Asia
back about five thousand years, when we find them
potential in the loins of a shepherd race at the foot of
the Himalayas. But the Semitic did not blend even with
the Aryan. Five thousand years ago there were the
Negroes, the Negritoes, the Mongols, the Turks, the
Semites and the Aryans. If they diverged from a com-
mon ancestral race, not a word from the tongue of that
race is known to survive in any language spoken to-day.
The Old Man who remembers the habits of primeval
man has forgotten his words.
In the Nilgherry Hills of India we find tribes arrested
in development at the stage of polyandry. It is only
those especially devoted to religion who keep up the
custom of many husbands to one wife. It is said that
wherever we find a tribe addicted to eating dog we may
infer that the tribe has lately been addicted to eating
man. When cannibals reform they tone off on dog.
So, it would seem, when the race was reforming from a
vice it toned off on religion. The men of the Nilgherry
Hills blend with the pre-Semites in the practice of poly-
andry. Now, the languages of the American Indian,
the non-Hindus of India, and the Mongols are, like the
Hebrew, barren of names for uncle and nephew. These
old races, like the pre-Semite, lived in polyandry.
How heavily the Old Man sits on Australia! How
heavily his hand presses on the Australian brain! His
pendulum which, over all the universe, was beating out
his steps stopped on its upward beat in Australia. Crea-
tion reached the kangaroo and stopped. Man reached
Australia while yet a child-man and his growth stopped.
On the south coast he has hardly attained to the tribal
state. He lives in sexual promiscuity under a single
restriction. As we push our way backward we find the
lines of custom converging toward the Australian.
So much has the Old Man on our shoulder been
telling us. What a welcome the world gave to man!
Fangs, claws, thorns, thistles, the buzzing lance of the
insect, the invisible bivouac in earth and air of the microbe,
simoons, typhoons, war of wind with wave and tooth
with claw — that was the world which cradled the new-
born man. And how roughly the new-born man
fitted his cradle! Painful to the child-man was the
leopard's claw and pelting storm, more painful his
own dawning thoughts. Turn a horse into a world
it does not know and every object within range of its
senses will seem a thing of life — so low on the scale
begins animism. So was the world to infant man.
THE OPEN COURT.
509
Our own ancestors who looked from hurdles of the
sheep-fold on the Himalayas saw the mighty domes
robed in snow, enduring but never going, as if they
were colossal behemoths at rest, and called them
breathers. They saw the river rushing on at the moun-
tain's foot, never at rest, and called it the runner. They
saw the lightning's forked flash, and called it the smitcr.
They felt the pelting storms, and called them " maruts,"
the pounders.
" Far along from peak to peak the rattling crags among
Leaped the live thunder — "
to them real live thunder, and they called it the roarer.
They saw the azure dome over-spanning the domes of
granite, and called it the enfo/der, and, at last, the all-
enfolding Heaven-Father. All things lived. There
were no abstractions. Even an oath was a concrete
thing. When Zeus was going to swear he sent Iris to
the earth to bring up the oath in a golden ewer.
To the ancient man all things lived and most things
fought. Nature was a plenum of fight. In the ocean
the war of each against all is so fierce that now and then
the finny fighter leaps up to fight the feathered fighter
in the world of air above. So to the ancient man earth
seemed too small for the fierceness of its battle and it
regurgitated into heaven. The synod of gods on
Olympus supplemented a conclave of fighters below.
One god was armed with thunder-bolts, another with
bow and arrows, another with a kind of a pitchfork,
another with a club. Some were armed with pesti-
lence. Apollo twanged from his silvery bow the
unseen shafts of disease that pierced the dogs and
Greeks before the walls of Troy. Sophocles sings
of the great plague at Athens as caused by the
shafts of unarmed Mars. Jahweh was more fiercely
armed than any god on Olympus. He was Jahweh of
war hosts. He was armed with a glittering sword
which he bathed in blood, with arrows which drank
blood, with fire which he rained down on rebellious
men, with lightning which he shot forth like arrows,
with snow and hail which Job tells us he reserved
against the day of battles, and with pestilence which he
reserved against the day of peace.
These doleful voices we are hearing from the cradle
of our race may seem an empty waste of words. Our
manly voice is in no danger of going back to childish
treble. No, but the treble and piping of the child-man
are teaching us a lesson we dearly need. The religion
of Christendom is based on the assumption that man is a
fallen race. His fall was so tragic it dragged down all
life and even inanimate nature. While the protoplasts
of the race, Adam and Eve, were embowered in Eden
the lion and the fawn, the shrike and the dove, the spider
and the fly were living in peaceful fellowship in a world
which was all paradise, and even the fish, as sung in
Paradise Lost, at the hour for dining, left their watery
world to browse the tender grass on its shore! No thorn
was on the rose, no claw was on the tiger, no fang was
m the asp, no grave had opened under the foot of man,
no storm raged over his head, no storm of passion raged
in his heart, the " maruts," those pounders of the sky,
were lulled to zephyrs and the great globe itself lay
peaceful on its lap of fire. He fell; he tasted the fruit
of the tree of knowledge and Milton, who sings the faith
of Christendom, says that
" Earth trembled from her entrails as again
In pangs, and nature gave a second groan."
The thorn came on the rose, the claw came on the
tiger, the fang came on the asp, graves began to open
under the feet of men, " hiss to hiss returned " through
all the world "from forked tongue to forked tongue;"
strong angels bore commission from the throne of light
to tip the earth's pole and at once the zephyr rose to a
blast,
" Then from the north
Of Norembega and the Samoed shore,
Bursting their brazen dungeon, armed with ice
And snow and hail and stormy gust and flaw,"
the winds came roaring and bellowing over sea and
land ; another angel ministrant from the throne
"Told the thunder when to roll with terror,
Through the dark aerial hall,"
and told the lightning when to stab, while Satan, as if
in despair of competing with God in dark deeds toward
earth and man, was content to build a bridge, cemented
with asphaltic slime and pinned with adamant, from
earth to hell.
The Old Man of the Sea who bestrode Sindbad
drank wine and broke into speech. Under the enchant-
ment of science the Old Man who bestrides us speaks.
Hear him. All that you are and all that you have are
an outgrowth. In me was the root. In the future shall
bend the golden fruit. Be charitable toward the tramp.
He is your heritage from me. The first men were
tramps. The tramp who roams the highway to-day
with no floor under his feet but the turf, no roof over
his head but the sky, equals the first tramp plus shoes
on his feet, plus a coat on his back, plus a hat on his head.
Be charitable toward the dark of mind and perverse of
will. They are anachronisms, the gray of morning mist
flecking the skies of noon. Be compassionate toward
those whose nudity is girt only with feathered cincture,
and whose nudity of mind is veiled only by platted shreds
from that weed of superstition, the night-shade. They
are my gift to you. They are children of the dawn who
have lingered far on in the day, children still, old and stiff.
To them you owe your gods, your demons and your ghosts.
Be charitable even toward me, the Past. Bear me lightly
and do not drop me abruptly. Whatever triumph you
have made over me, the sanctity of marriage for my
laxity, guard it — as the apple of the eye guard it. With
these triumphs under your feet, with the light of science
5!°
THE OPEN COURT.
in your eyes, behind you unnumbered ages of prepara-
tion, within you unspeakable potencies, before you the
hills of light, move on and while
"The great globe shall spin forever
Down the ringing grooves of change"
yourselves change with the changing time, work out
the past with his claws and fangs and pestilential gods,
work in the crowning race of man that "eye to eye
shall look on knowledge" and feel no burning on the
brow and no ache on the heart.
SEPARATENESS IN RELIGION.
BY GEORGE JACOB HOLYOAKE.
The last place in which the separateness of things
distinct comes to be perceived is in theology. Lord
Dalling — who as Sir Henry Bulwer was a diplomatist
of repute, and therefore by profession a master of dis-
tinction in terms, yet described as an atheist Paine
who never went further than disbelief of the Bible, was
as passionate a theist as Theodore Parker, and hated
atheism as much as Robespierre. George Henrv Lewes
on one occasion depicted as an atheist that "Sea-green"
Republican. Two things so distinct as the secular from
the atheistic is not yet clear to the English mind. The
Bishop of Peterborough maintains that they are the same
thing. This error was the great obstacle which prevented
us obtaining in England national secular education. The
dreamy prosaic, much smoking, much pondering Dutch
are the only nation in Europe which keeps secular sepa-
rate from religious instruction, and thereby rears the
best citizens and the best Christians in the world — and
is the only country which sends to Heaven clear-headed
saints. Prof. Francis William Newman, the one dis-
tinguished scholar whose style is as clear as Huxley's, is
never confused. He discerns separateness through all
the wide region of religion. "By the Church," he says,
"are meant those who are actual fellow- workers, whether
with conscious or unconscious religion. There are a
large margin of estimable persons in whom kindliness,
generosity and purity predominate in their characters
who profess no religion at all."* As a comprehensionist
Richard Baxter was far inferior to Professor Newman.
Mr. Spurgeon, who, at the annual supper of his college
said he had " an absolute hatred of advanced thought,"f
of course sees no sacredness in secular things; but lead-
ers of "advanced thought "—as the late Thomas Scott,
of Norwood, who published a hundred essays in further-
ance of it, issued one on " Secularism," which set forth
that the secular was essentially and of its nature atheistic.
Mazzini with all his fine Italian penetration, never saw
any separateness in the two things.
The faculty of discerning separateness was a charac-
teristic of ancient thought though seemingly lost to the
« I'. W. Newman. Tht Netn Crusade.
t Rev. T. R. Stevenson's Report cited in Inquirer, May 7, 1SS7.
modern thinker. Mrs. L. Maria Child, in her most
famous work, tells us that Crishna taught that "who-
ever constantly and sincerely — whether in love or
enmity-bent his heart toward the Deity — was sure to
obtain liberation (salvation) incarnated in human form."
Thus, if Crishna was our spiritual lawgiver, the secular
thinker would not be excluded from the rewards of the
religious.
There was a strong element of the perspicacity
which discerns separateness in theology in Chalmers,
who astonished his generation by the saying that " Hell
was not a place but a state." Yet, three centuries ago
Marlowe said the same thing with a splendor of per-
spicuity which no modern preacher has attained. In
reply to the question of Faustus to the nimble Fiend,
" How comes it then that thou art out of Hell?" Mephis-
topheles replies:
" Why this is Hell, nor am I out of it:
Think'st thou that I who saw the face of God,
And tasted the eternal joys of Heaven,
Am not tormented with ten thousand Hells
In being deprived of everlasting bliss?"
But my concrete purpose here is to point out the
separateness of the secular from the atheistic.
There is hardly any remark among the common-
places of discussion which denotes more looseness of
thought than the saying that "it is not worth while to
dispute about names." Names are the signs of ideas in
the minds of those who intelligently use them. If I
announce that I shall write on Bells some might sup-
pose I had in view the "Bells" of Erckmann-Cha-
trian's Polish Jew, or church bells, or vesper bells — but
no one would expect from me a paper on bottle-nosed
whales. The selection of right names is the object and
the necessity of discussion; and debate is foolishness to
any who think names indifferent.
A man comes into this world without being con-
sulted as to time, or place, or part he has to play. He
soon hears that there is another world also. People who
have found the world ready-made and not badly fur-
nished have concluded that some Being whom they
called Deity had provided it and " personally conducts"
it, or as Carlyle says " sits outside and sees it go." As
however, this Being is never seen about, nor has any
address in this world, it has been concluded that His
abode is in another world, and that there are two worlds,
one known and one unknown. The interpreter of the
real world is Experience ; the interpreter of the supposed
world is Theology. One thing appears quite clear, that
these two worlds are distinct. As in the case of the
carol which sings of "three ships which came sailing by
containing Joseph and his fair lady " — everybody can
see that the ships were distinct from the passengers,
though how Joseph and Mary, two persons only, were
distributed in three ships has never been explained.
In course of time it comes to be perceived by those
THE OPEN COURT.
5"
who think that this world is but part of an infinite sys-
tem called Nature, and the other world is described as an
illimitable dominion to which is given the name of
Spirit-world. Then two persons arise, the first who is
called Theist, declares his belief that nature is incapable
of self-existence and self-sustainment and that it was
originated by the Lord of the spirit dominions. The
second person who bears the name of Atheist, avows
his belief that nature is self-sufficient, self-acting, with-
out beginning or end, and that it is self-contained bear-
ing within its eternal womb all secrets, all mysteries,
all miracles, all time, all destiny. The theist may be
right or the atheist may be right, but neither know abso-
lutely whether he is or not.
At the same time there are other persons not less
reflective but more diffident and unpretending, described
by the name of Neutralists or Secularists, who say that
upon questions so vast they give no opinion — not having
sufficient knoweldge. Belief implies evidence. To
arrive at a conclusion upon infinite things the premises
must be infinite, and to marshal infinite premises and
judge them, are beyond finite capacity and not necessary
for the practical purposes of life and duty.
The origin of this world not being obvious or deter-
minable, all men would perish were they called upon to
make the discovery as a condition of the enjoyment of
this world. The question of the authorship of this
world is as distinct from its uses as is the architect from
a house or the owner from an estate. An occupier can
tell whether his habitation is well built, well drained,
well ventilated, well situated, although he may never
know who was the architect. Any competent person
can tell whether an estate is well wooded, well watered,
well cultivated, although the landlord may be unknown.
In the same way the fitness of this world as a pleasant
and profitable dwelling place is quite distinct from our
knowledge of who designed it, or who owns it. From
all appearances the contriver and proprietor of this world
looks for no acknowledgment save the happiness of the
inhabitants and exacts no rental save that of progress.
Ever increasing experience convinces those who
observe that science is the providence of life and human
affairs can be conducted without theology, which in its
precepts and policv is avowedly alien to this world. By
secularism is meant a series of precepts the truth of
which can be tested in this life — precepts by which
morality, justice and honor can be inculcated and sus-
tained. The reverence of that which is true, and right
and compassionate is human, and some think religious,
and more so than many theories of theology which take
that name.
It is said by many that there is One who watches
over this world ready to aid all who call upon Him. If
this were true there would be neither error nor want
anywhere, for we know that all the inhabitants have
been at Him with their passionate requests. The rule
theology lays down for success is that " we should pray
as though there was no help in us and work as though
there was no help in Heaven." This is doubling our
labor. The secularist sees that secular exertion is alone
productive, chooses that course without complaint. The
secularist, therefore, selects for study the material means
of this life, with a view to human welfare and improve-
ment. But always avoiding large statements which
exceed human knowledge — he does not say with
the absolute materialist, that there is nothing in nature
save " force and matter," because that is more than he
knows or can know. The maxim of Pope is ever true —
Say first of God or man below
What can we reason but from what we know."
The secularist may have few principles but they
have that certitude which can be tested by the experi-
ence of this life. He does not pretend to see more than
he can see. Unambitious common sense is sufficient for
him. He takes it for granted that the Unknown is
unknown. He does not undertake to say whether
nature is the outcome of intellect or intellect the out-
come of nature — and it does not matter which we believe
or we should have been told all about it. He does not
seemingly blaspheme the universe like the theist, by-
denying that nature is incapable of taking care of itself,
nor does he put upon Deity the dread and ceaseless
responsibility of eternal vigilance to keep all the worlds
going and answer the conflicting and unceasing peti-
tions of all the millions of mankind. The secularist
makes no exactions — he nurtures no discontent — he gives
Heaven no trouble. He seeks to express his thankful-
ness, by self-dependent effort for personal improvement,
and sums up all duty in endeavors to extend the secular
blessings of this life to others, confident that if a future
existence shall come to pass, that he will have qualified
himself for it by having made a common sense use of
this. Thus, while the atheist worries himself as to how
this world came to be and why it goes on — the secular-
ist spends his time in trying to discover the best uses to
which the world that is, may be put. How far a theist
may be a secularist will depend upon the nature of his
theism. He who thinks Deity intends this world to be
a vale of tears will very likely keep it so, as far as he is
concerned. He who thinks the world can be put right
bv prayer, is a fool if he engaged in personal effort to
do it. A mendicant theist who is always whining to
Heaven to help him and who really believes Heaven will
do it, will be a poor hand at self-help; but a theist who
thinks Heaven is best pleased with that creed which pro-
duces the best deeds for the service of humanity, mav
he a good secularist. So mav an atheist who has no
theory which diminishes his interest in the secular affairs
of this world, but if he makes the acceptance of the
atheistical principle a condition of secular devotion, he
;i2
THE OPEN COURT.
deters nearly all the world from looking at secularism
or even wishing to be of that opinion.
The essence of secularism is separateness. It- study
is the laws of the universe, not its cause. The theist and
the atheist both hold unprovable views — the secularist
deals only with what is provable by experience. His
duties are in the realm of reality. Outside it and dis-
tinct from it lies the splendid realm of" speculation which
all men love to explore, but in which no man can live.
Atheism like theism has a theory of the origin of things.
Secularism has a theory of the uses of things; it is herein
that they are distinct.
The dim sky line of the other world is but the bor-
der-land of the realities of the world we know. We
may say with St. John " For the life is manfested and
we have seen it." We can tell the perfume of a flower
without knowing who the gardener is. A knowledge
of the construction and uses of a steam engine, a loco-
motive, or a steamboat, does not depend on knowing
that Wall, or Stephenson, or Fulton, or Bell originated
it. Thus we can study the secular uses of this world
apart from the speculations of the atheist who thinks
the world eternal, or the theist who thinks it was created.
Even Mohammed discerned that secular-mindedness
was prudence when the devout believer said to him, " I
will set my camel free and commit him to God." " Tie
thy camel first and then commit him to God," replied
Mohammed. The prophet had separateness in his
mind. Theologians say we must do what we can and
leave the rest to God. On the contrary the secularists
say God has done what he chooses best and leaves the
rest to us.
ARE WE PRODUCTS OF MIND?
BY EDMUND MONTGOMERY, M.D.
Part IV.
The foregoing remarks will suffice to disclose the
depth and intricacy of the great problem of voluntary
movement. But as the all-important question of the rela-
tion of mind to non-mental existence, turns on the correct
understanding of the nature of these so-called voluntary
movements, we must not shirk the task of again, ami
more thoroughly, scrutinizing this mighty stronghold
of all those who believe that what we know as our
mind is controlling, or at least can control, what we
know as our body.
When' a person is moving his arm, an observer per-
ceives the arm and its motion. Different senses render
one another mutual aid in making sure of this percepti-
ble fact, and numerous and intelligent observers will
corroborate it. We then desire to know the cause of
this movement. Still adhering to the same method of
sensible observation, we find that the foifcr of movi?ig
resides in the substance of the muscles; for the muscles
contract and move the arm when directly stimulated by
artifical means. We discover, however, that in the
self-moving organism the stimulation of the muscles is
effected through nerves. Proceeding with our method
of sensible observation, we ascertain further that it is
a molecular stir in the nerve-substance, which naturally
acts as stimulating cause. And if it were practically
possible to trace this molecular stir along the nerves up
to its origin, we would find in a. definite part of the
brain nothing whatever but another specific mode of
motion. Arrived at this ultimate organic station, the
question is, What has given rise to this molecular
motion and imparted to it its strangely specific character
of being able to stimulate in a definite purposive man-
ner a definite set of muscles? Professor Cope main-
tains that it is consciousness, which is not only the
prime mover, but which is also imparting the specific
character to the motions. I, on the contrary, maintain
that the motion is spontaneous and intrinsic, meaning
thereby that it is effected and receives its hyper-mechan-
ical character through specific non- mental forces inher-
ent in the living substance itself — not being mechanically
produced by externally imparted energy, nor by mental
influences, but by evolutionally organized efficiency.
Consistently following the method of sensible obser-
vation, I find by unmistakable evidence that the living
substance, or so-called protoplasm, possesses such a
power of spontaneous and specific activity. And I con-
clude that brain-substance being the highest kind of living
substance will possess in the highest degree of perfection
such power of spontaneous and specific activity — not being
coerced to function specifically save by its own intrinsic
constitution. This kind of verifiable spontaneity,
dependent on the organized power of moving or the
power of performing other specific functions by dint of
inherent, hyper- mechanical energies, is a strictly condi-
tional and altogether different kind of spontaneity from
that imagined by Professor Cope in common with ideal-
ists to be a peculiarity of free consciousness.
We know that artificial stimulation of the brain
will incite purposive movements of the ectodermic mus-
cles. Surely, then, the power of initiating such pur-
posive movements must organically reside in the brain-
substance. This state of dependence is corroborated
furthermore by no end of pathological evidence. The
mere fact that definite mental or conscious faculties,
volitional as well as receptive, are exterminated with the
disintegration of definite parts of the brain, and reappear
with reintegration of these parts, ought to tell very
forcibly in favor of the dependence of consciousness on
organization.
We know, moreover, that artificial stimulation by
means of sundry drugs will incite all manner of con-
scious states. Surely, then, the power of emitting such
conscious states must reside, likewise, as an organized
endowment in the brain-substance. And this also is
corroborate by much pathological evidence.
THE OPEN COURT.
5*3
Now, as some kind of brain-function gives thus rise
to conscious states, while another kind of brain-function
initiates purposive movements, it is clear that the con-
nection, found to obtain between these two modes of
brain-function, is entirely organic, taking place between
two specific brain-functions, and not between a super-
organic conscious state as impelling power on the one
side and a specific brain-function as its effect on the
other. Do not, moreover, the marvellously purposive,
and yet so strangely "automatic" performances of
hynotized subjects on suggestive stimulation, also most
forcibly point to an organic connection between idea-
tional nerve-centres and volitional nerve-centres?
Surely, my endeavor here, all along, is faithfully to
adhere to " observed phenomena as foundation materials."
But how does it stand in this respect with Professor
Cope? How does he seek to prove his assertion that
mind is the prime mover and director of voluntary
activity? He does so by completely abandoning at this
most critical juncture the method of sensible observa-
tion, and suddenly assuming the entirely opposite method
of introspection. His assertion inevitably means, I
know — not by sensible observation — but by dint of mere
introspective and individual feeling, that it is conscious-
ness in the form of will, which is moving my arm; or
which is imparting purposive movements to yours. But
we may well ask, whether he really knows what he
asserts to know, even when we allow him thus illegit-
imately and inadvertently to pass over from the objective
to the subjective standpoint. Does he know that a cer-
tain state of consciousness within him is acting as prime
mover and director on that particular part of the brain
where the molecular motion originates, whose propaga-
tion acts as a specific stimulus to the muscles of the arm ?
Surely, he must confess, that he is entirely ignorant of
all that is going on in his brain; and that it is indeed
utterly inconceivable how a conscious state can move
matter of which it is wholly unconscious. Who knows
while thinking and willing that he does this through his
brain? So unconscious are we of the seat of conscious-
ness, that the great Aristotle believed the heart to be its
organ ; taking the brain to be merely a cold and rather
useless mass. Mind or consciousness wells up from an
unfelt organic matrix, through unfelt organic activity.
How can it possibly control the matrix and its activity,
of whose existence it is wholly unconscious, while
receiving its own birth from it?
The puzzle here arises chiefly from neglect of the
theory of cognition; that is from matter being believed
to exist in reality as perceived by us. We perceive as
constituting the physical world nothing but what we
call matter and motion ; and to the cause of the possible
effect or " work," which such perceptible matter in
motion is able to produce by acting on other percepti-
ble matter, we give the name of "energy." Energy,
then, is a perceptibk state of that objectively observable
substratum which we generally call matter. The realm
of perceptible existents together with their perceptible
activities, is the realm of physical phenomena. From
this same standpoint of objective science we cannot pos-
sibly perceive and observe any kind of mental phenom-
enon. The brain of an observed organism may function
as much as it pleases, we can perceive and observe there
nothing whatever but matter in motion. Keeping con-
sistently the attitude of sensible observation we cannot
possibly become aware that conscious phenomena are
simultaneously experienced by the observed organism.
Xo mutual aid of the senses or of "co-workers" avails
here. Consequently, mind or the conscious states expe-
rienced by the observed organism are not and cannot be
a " property " of that which we are perceiving as matter
in motion. That which the observer perceives as matter
in motion, or brain in functional activity, is a phenome-
non within his own individual perception. The con-
scious states simultaneously experienced by the observed
organism are phenomena occurring within its own
self. How, then, can a phenomenon occurring within
one being be a property of a phenomenon occurring
within another being? Mind, therefore, cannot possibly
be a property of that which we perceive as " matter in
energetic action."
Mind or consciousness is, thus, neither a property of
matter, nor the controller of our movements. The
marvel of voluntary movement lies far deeper than con-
sciousness. Perhaps we may succeed in throwing some
little additional light on it by working still further upon
" observed phenomena as foundation materials."
TOUCHED BY PROPHECY.
BY ELIZABETH OAKES SMITH.
I am not a pessimist; far from it. On the contrary,
I believe in the good time coming, the sweet by-and-by
(spoken about reverently), the millennium, and what-
ever else is of a buoyant, hopeful nature; I think the
world an uncommonly good world, and — and with some
drawbacks upon which 1 am about to touch, growing
every day better; but — but I must tell what happened.
f was in the country on a beautiful day in June, the
month of roses, bright, fresh, redolent of all sweets;
bees mumbling the farina of hollyhocks, and humming-
birds plunging bill deep into honeysuckles, and birds
breaking out into song as if they felt as I did, that it
was a delight to live and breathe. I stepped lightly,
envying the school children out at recess who went by
me at a hop, skip and jump, which it were indecorous in
me to imitate.
Buzz — whir — and, like a shot, and looking like a
Brobdingnag bug, a bicycle whirled past me, the man a
spider in the center of his web.
" What a libel upon the loveliness of the landscape,"
5*4
THE OPEN COURT.
I muttered, and then whiz — whiz — whir — and half a
dozen others came on like a battalion of large beetles or
a troop of tarantulas.
"Why need people be in such breathless haste on a
day like this?" I ejaculated, and seated rnyself upon a
stump by the roadside around which had clustered long
spikes of sweetbrier, full of pale pink blossoms. The
moist sweetness of the place harmonized with my feel-
ings, and I was not displeased when a toad lazily
emerged from his den of leaves and sat swallowing, as
toads do. I sat speculating about that precious jewel in
his head, when there arose upon the air such yells and
howls, screeches and screams, in every possible pitch, that
no human brain could imagine what was up and out to
create such a din.
School children hallooed as only children can, and came
rushing to where I sat, while men bellowed " clear the
track!" shouted, threw up their arms and used an amount
of expletives, marvellous to hear. I sprang to my feet,
and at that instant a Wild Locomotive, a resonant steam-
eagle, as Elizabeth Barrett Browning calls it, came thun-
dering down the track, roaring and leaping, jumping up
and plunging down like an incarnate fiend from the
lower regions. On, on it went, scattering cattle, pedes-
trians and vehicles — onward, onward, and I heard its
shriek reverberated from hill to hill and repeated by a
thousand echoes. Why need a locomotive go wild on
a day like this! a heavenly June day? How much mis-
chief it will do in its audacious frolic is past calculation.
Bicycles on the road, wild locomotives on the track —
what next ?
The melancholy Jaques would have been beguiled
from his mood by an experience like mine this June day.
Accordingly, after musing awhile, I silently determined
to take the first stage-coach to be found on the road and
make my way to parts unknown. What were roses and
sunshine and sweetbrier to me with inroads of bicycles
and wild locomotives? Alas! we challenge destiny when
we attempt to turn our face against it.
Seating myself in an old-fashioned stage, we trav-
eled onward at a moderate pace. 1 like an old-fashioned,
meditative horse — passing under trees, up hill and down
dale, softly striking a hoof here and there to waken the
sylvan gods; he seems to be the natural outgrowth of
forest glades and mountain rills. I leaned back in a
dreamy content, thinking how much better this mode of
traveling was to one of gentle sensibilities than to be
going helter-skelter fortv miles an hour in a railroad car.
The hazards to life and limb multiply daily, I mused,
and the brain is too slow in devising precautionary
measures. Commend me to an old-fashioned vehicle
and a horse, and deliver me from the cantraps of engines
gone astray. Here, as I sit, I am as much at ease as the
traveler "in mine Inn." As we pass through a wood
of pines the delicious aroma comes gratefully to the
nerves lacerated as mine had been this lovely June day.
This uproar, this hazard, this wild, unearthly yelling
to which the generations have not been educated up to, is
demoralizing the child in his cradle, and he toddles into
strange vices and crimes while he should be sucking his
thumb and making mud pies.
While I thus theorized, I had been abstractedly
listening to a sound that at intervals struck upon the ear.
I at first lazily thought it the bellowing of an ox, a
legitimate sound in a rural landscape, but as it grew
louder I perceived a difference. I have traveled through
the wilds of Moosehead Lake, the sources of the Penob-
scot and the drear Mount Katahdn, and listened to the
solitary cry of the loon in these desolate regions, and the
call of the moose to its mate under midnight stars, and
I now perceived that this new detonation upon the air
was a mixture of all these; less melancholy and more
sharp.
Suddenly a horseman at full speed galloped up to our
driver and screamed at the top of his voice —
" Turn your old stage into the woods; hide the horses
out of sight, and make the women shut up their
throats."
Scarcely had he delivered this courteous message
than several other horsemen appeared and the sound |
grew momently neater; a quick, sharp trumpet cry
followed by a little sharp one, like a period at the end of a
sentence.
" Gorry !" cried a country bumpkin by my side.
Marcy
ejaculated a stout dame with a
basket of eggs in her lap.
"Goodness, gracious!" exclaimed a pretty young girl,
her round eyes growing rounder, and clinging to my
arm to smother down a scream.
In the meanwhile there was a heavy tramp — tramp
— a roar or trumpet blast — horses galloping, men shout-
insr, and rising above all this an unwonted sound,
whether of man or beast, or resounding instrument
none could tell.
The driver turned his horses into the woods, utter-
ing expletives and lashing them furiously, ever and
anon crying out —
" You women in there hold your tongues, or you'll
catch it!" and we went under limbs of trees, over
stumps and bushes, into holes and out of ditches. There
was a pause; our horses were still, the stage ceased to
oscillate, and that terrible cry of a beast, if beast it was,
suddenly ceased.
I looked out of a glass window, six by three inches
in size, at the rear of the stage, and there I discerned
the meaning of the hubbub.
Onward approached a huge elephant, trunk high in
air, ears flapping like vans to a wind-mill, and feet
planted ready to do the worst upon whatever might
impede her way. Right and left she swung- her big
THE OPEN COURT.
5*5
proboscis, and ever and anon gave way to a loud,
malignant scream full of threatening vengeance.
Close beside her tramped a little elephant, the exact
counterpart of the mother in all but bulk. It was a
ridiculous fac simile. It swung its little trunk right
and left and up in the air exactly in the same way, and
did its best to make as much noise. Every time it
screamed the mother's scream grew more threatening,
and the young imp enjoying the tantrums of its
respected mother, redoubled its juvenile efforts to cre-
ate commotion.
Reaching the spot where we were hidden both
animals stopped short. The mother sniffed the air
viciously; the young one did the same. The large
brute drew back her haunches, stretched forward her
immense front feet ready to start upon destruction, and
gave out snorts and cries to curdle the blood, closely
followed by the same attitudes, and the same cries in
the little brute so far as she had the power to follow
her leader. They sniffed the air, they stamped and
snorted, and I already felt that huge trunk smashing in
the stage top, and mashing every bone and muscle to a
jelly.
Great was the commotion. Horsemen prodded the
hides of both animals and lashed and beat them, but the
huge beast was determined to make a cushion of our
bodies. They tried to start the young imp along the
road, but it only sidled round its mother. At length a
long pole armed with steel driven into the young one's
haunch started it down the road with a yell followed
by its furious mother.
" What next," I ejaculated. To be run over by
bicycles and wild locomotives in the morning, and
threatened by elephants at noonday! Such is the
progress of civilization — the great wall of China has
long been a useless encumbrance; the castles of
Europe are of no more utility than tadmor of the
desert; the catapult cringes before artillery; the
armor of the gallant knight with shield and cuirass are
nothing before a minie-rifle; the trireme is forgotten,
and even the mighty frigate, in view of the iron-clad.
The mechanism of man overpowers man himself.
He will crowd himself out of the world. His many inven-
tions neutralize the spirit that is in him; his hand will
need be idle for the busy brain is inventing methods by
which he can live without work. I pulled the string.
" Driver, let me out, please."
He did so, and I walked onward careless of where I
went. I will get all the good I can out of this beauti-
ful June day, in spite of bicycles and elephants in the
road and wild engines on the track. No generation can
be educated up to the mechanism of the times — the
brain, instead of being the pulpy thing it is, will have to
be transposed to iron to bear as I have borne even the
hazards of one day in our present civilization.
I see in the great future man annihilated by the
force of his own onwardness; not a man upon the earth,
but it goes on the same in its orbit with the unceasing
spinning round of cogs and wheels and the clank of
machinery, keeping up a perpetual motion; a lonely
world with no music but the machinery that man has
left behind him, and no singing bird but that of his
automata. •
CHATS WITH A CHIMPANZEE.
BY MONCCRE D. CONWAY.
Part VII.
On the day following the conversation last recorded,
I was awakened at dawn by my interpreter and informed
that a festival of peculiar sanctitv had already begun on
the Ganges. Hastening to the river I secured the only
barge left by the sight-seers, and was just putting out
from shore when my attention was arrested by Ameri-
can voices. Turning I saw two gentlemen and a lady
in evident distress because they could not obtain a barge,
and at once offered them places on mine. For this thev
were grateful, and we soon fell into pleasant relations.
The lady was young and witty, and also a beauty of the
Virginian type. We floated gently amid the devout
bathers, passed the Widows' Ghaut — where, near the
pyre where they were once consumed with their hus-
bands' bodies they now disported themselves in the
waves — and witnessed many interesting ceremonies. At
length the party with me desired to be put on shore, it
being Sunday, and the lady wishing to attend the Eng-
lish church service. She invited me to go with them;
and the invitation was accompanied with such friendly
tones, dimpled smiles, and looks from eyes in which piety
and coquetry were so sweetly blended, that I became
the easy victim of the very stupidest preacher I ever
heard in my life. Alas, alas, that was not the worst of
it. When the hour arrived at which I should have been
listening to the revelations of my beloved Chimpanzee, I
found myself wedged between two large English dow-
agers without hope of extrication. I had to sit it out. I
learned patience from a passage the preacher read from
Job. While he read it I gazed out on the palms and
banyans; these helped me to detach his husk of mistrans-
lation and misinterpretation from the old poem. I pic-
tured to myself the oriental man of Uz, sitting amid the
ruins of his life, perhaps in that city where I now sat,
rejecting one after another the unreal consolations of his
orthodox comforters, exposing their fictitious solutions
of life's problems, and bravely confronting the demon
offered him as a deity. Beneath the clergyman's bathos
I heard the pathos of that great heart's longing to be
hidden in a cave, there to sleep in dreamless repose until
his change should come, and he should awaken, and,
even if fleshless, should see the fairer, humaner, diviner
world of which he dreamed amid his griefs.
My lost opportunity of meeting my Chimpanzee
5 '6
THE OPEN COURT.
could not be recovered that day, because of ceremonies
going- on in the Monkey Temple. On the next morn-
ing I sped to the pi. ice. I apologized to my friend, and
blushinglv admitted that I had been tempted into church
by a pretty face, but he easily forgave me.
"How can I wonder?" he said. "My ancestors
gave ten thousand years to the creation of that beaut}';
it took them two thousand years to evolve it out of exist-
ence in their own race, and free themselves from its
spell; it were miraculous if you should be able to achieve
a like emancipation in one morning."
Completely mystified by this I silently awaited my
Sage's further words.
"Itjs droll," he presently continued, " that people
should imagine that ' the gods' ever created a lady; —
that the-e ferocious forces, symbolized in images with
tusks, swords, skull-necklaces, ever created the rosy
cheek, dimpled smile, loving eyes, tender breast, of a
beautiful woman. You can still find in some remote
regions, unvisited by civilization, the hideous hag created
by the gods. The beautiful woman is an artificial being
— a creation of human and social selection."
" Yet such refined women may be seen worshiping
the horrible personifications of lightning, famine, disease,
death."
"No, not worshiping but kneeling before them;
originally it was through terror, but gradually they have
so invested those horrible creators with their own refin-
ing humanity that there have been developed some
softer and kindlier deities. These are all the seed of the
civilized woman, and they have bruised the heads of the
old serpent-gods, the primitive afflictors of mankind.
This is the genesis of the baby-gods, such as Krishna
and Christ: They are fed by the breast of woman, and
grow to be lovers. Krishna dancing with the cow-girls
is as mvstical to his worshipers as Christ with the Marvs.
All real and fine religion is the heart falling in love with
an invisible lover. These divine lovers begin as victims
of the nature-gods, but steadily supercede them. There
is now, thanks to woman, little more left of the rude
'creators' than their names and images--the.se being
often mentally turned into mystical meanings the very
reverse of their original significance."
"Why then do you speak of having evolved female
beauty out of existence?"
" Well, existence was found intolerable. As I have
already told you, the beautiful world we had developed
above the rude stocks of nature was arrested by our
priesthood, and ultimately crushed beneath a fictitious
universe which they conceived by superstition and made
real. Our ancestors failed in their repeated efforts to
subdue this elaborated sham, this apotheosis of the Lie,
under which man was degraded. Had they never
known anything better they might have borne it, but they
had become as a race of giants pinioned by pygmies.
When they were sundered, scattered about, their
tongue divided and confused, as I have related, there
still survived in their descendants a consciousness born of
the higher condition from which they had been degraded.
This consciousness was the source of their agony."
"Suicide remained open to them."
" It did. And the finer spirits so sought release.
But cunning nature, concerned only for continuance of
the species, could not be cheated in that way. Some
still faintly clung to life — mere physical life — and these
were sufficient to form a basis of evolution. Since the
suicides did not live to propagate their moral species,
there was a survival of the least suicidal — then of the
non-suicidal. The suicidal having perished, the race
was organized on the principle of the will to live, how-
ever miserable existence might be. The scourge of
consciousness must be got rid of by some other method.
Then there appeared among us a traveler from far
regions beyond the sunset, who told us of peoples who
had overthrown priesthoods and temples like our own,
and who were conquering the fierce inorganic forces
before which our masters and their myrmidons were
kneeling. After him came a prophet who declared that
these western races — humanized gods, he called them—
would in some glorious latter day reach our land, and
raise our descendants to freedom and happiness. That,
indeed, was an insufficient .consolation for those then
living; and a sigh, a longing, swelled many a heart that
it might sink into long sleep, and awaken in that far
future to find the world changed, renovated, imparadised
by the advent of those distant divine freemen. There
was an old poem or legend of one whose household,
family, life, were laid in ruins by a powerful demon;
and how that just man amid his desolations, longed to
be hidden in a cave till his Vindicator should come,
and stand in the latter day on the new earth, when the
right should prevail ; and how this came to pass. Some
believed this to be true history. But meanwhile the
inner demon, Consciousness, intensified for our ancestors
the evils of existence, and they lent a ready ear to all
who proposed any means of death-in-life. One for this
end invented wine, but that cup of Lethe was too
transient.
" At length there passed through these fields and
cities a lone wayfaring man, — he whom men now call
Buddha. He it was whose voice reached the fallen vic-
tims of the lower race, and pointed them to a heaven of
unconsciousness — to Nirvana."
"It is a favorite belief of some that Nirvana is but
another name for conscious and immortal blessedness."
" It is but one more example of the rule that a
prophet's popularity is at the cost of his truth. Every
great teacher in the end is made to teach precisely the
reverse of what he actually taught. That makes him
fit to be a god; then after ages he is again reversed,
THE OPEN COURT.
5i7
becoming human, and somewhat like his original self.
After Buddhism was exterminated from India, Buddha
was adopted as a god — an incarnation of Vishnu — whereas
if there was anything in which that teacher was
especially earnest, it was in his denial of the existence
of any and every god. 1 should not wonder if some
fools should have made him out a vulgar thaumaturgist."
" That, indeed, has actually happened. Some Ameri-
can Spiritualists — pretended interviewers of ghosts —
have settled themselves in India, describing themselves
as Theosophists. One of their adherents has written a
fraudulent book called Esoteric B/tdd//ism,'n\ which he
brings the name of Buddha to sanction and bolster the
tricks of a female imposter who is making dupes of
pietistic young Hindus."
" So remorseless time fossilizes the noblest spiritual
forms! Buddha believed in no system, either philosoph-
ical or religious; he taught no creed about the universe.
His whole intellectual force was given to radical denial
of the existing systems, on which the inorganic world
had built a mental and moral prison of delusions. The
millions to whom he came dwelt in hell. Their 33,000,-
000 deities were distributed torturers of man, woman
and child. Buddha announced that not one of them
existed, that all gods were phantasms of fear. The
world began to breathe more freely. It was glad tidings
also when he declared that there was no conscious life
after death; for the poor wretches around him had
believed that, save a small elect caste, they were destined
to pass through 8,400,000 births and deaths, each a pro-
longed torture. His Nirvana was no more than the
promise that, for the good, death should be the annihila-
tion of consciousness. But if men were inhuman, given
up to animal passions, he suggested that there might be
danger that their individual consciousness might awaken,
after death, in the form of that animal to whose innocent
characteristic they had added a human perversion.
Immortality was for the bad. It was all very simple."
" Yet, a vast and various growth of metaphysics has
now overlaid Buddhism."
" I have, hidden in a secret place, a discourse once
given by Buddha on this very spot where we are con-
versing. Some day I will read it to you. But just now
I remember that you inquired why it was we evolved
female beauty out of existence. It was because — "
" Alas," I said, feeling my face burn with shame, " 1
must now leave you, for I have an engagement at this
hour to dine — "
" With your fair countrywoman," said the Sage,
smiling.
THE POSITIVE VIRTUES.
BY PROFESSOR THOMAS DAVIDSON.
Part III. — Concluded.
A second result of the true view of virtue will be
that our sympathies will be increased toward the mem-
bers of those classes of society that are not respectable,
in the usual acceptation of that term- the publicans and
the sinners. Recognizing that the negative virtues are,
after all, the smallest of the virtues, we shall not be
so ready as we are now to erect a wall of partition
between ourselves and those who are lacking in these.
We shall likewise come to feel that a comparative
deficiency of these virtues, especially such of them as
consist in overcoming passion, is entirely compatible
with a very large amount of positive virtue. There is
nothing more tragic, nothing more awesome and
pathetic, than the cold-bloodedness with which society
transforms itself into an inexorable fate, to crush poor
women, who in their excess of love, have yielded, be it
but once, to passion. I wonder how many ever read
Hugh Miller's touching story (and it was a true one)
entitled, Her Last Half- Crown. In it, the Scottish
stonemason sketches, with inimitable simplicity, the life
of one of society's outcasts, in whose wreck the stern
virtue of unselfish honesty had survived in all its purity
and grandeur. He attempts no defense; but he con-
demns the judge who would condemn her, to silence, by
drawing a line, and writing under it: "My thoughts
are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,
saith the Lord." Yes, truly. Our thoughts regarding
justice and virtue are very narrow and defective. In
estimating a character, we rarely attempt to treat it as
a whole. We simply ask whether it falls short of a
certain conventional and negative standard, and, if it
does, we condemn it; if not, we accept it. But the
only true way of estimating a character is to look at
both sides of it, to set off its positive virtues against its
negative vices, and strike a balance. Our methods of
dealing with men who have committed some simple
fault are utterly barbarous. Let a man, under some
momentary influence commit theft, albeit his previous
life has been not only free from fault, but productive of
much good, we take him out of all his natural surround-
ings, and deprive him of all the means of doing good,
shut him up, make him feel that he is a bad and a dis-
graced man, and that his life has been an utter failure.
All this is utterly and completely wrong. The case,
of course, is very different when a man can be shown
to be an habitual thief. Society then is entirely right
in protecting itself from the man's acts and example, by
shutting him up. A man who steals habitually, it may
safely he concluded, cannot have any great store of
positive virtue.
And here we must draw an often neglected distinc-
tion between two classes of vices — vices of passion and
vices of selfishness or calculation. Both are bad
enough; there is no use in trying to say one word for
either; but vices of calculation are worse and imply a
worse man than vices of passion. And yet in practice
the opposite theory is held. Nay, vices of calculation
are often held to be no vices at all, but are praised as.
5*8
THE OPEN COURT.
smartness. The man who makes money by pretend-
ing that his goods are what they are not, and the man
who induces a joint-stock company to water its stock,
in order to blind a victimized public to the amount of
the company's gains, is a much more vicious man than
he who occasionally gets drunk or commits fornication.
The one is malignant, the other is only weak. The
one has positive vice; the other has only negative virtue.
But there is a third and very grave class of vices,
which are not considered vices at all, but rather solid
virtues — and these are vices of prejudice. These
vices, it is true, imply, perhaps, less moral obliquity
than the others; but in their consequences they are more
far-reaching than any. They are, moreover, the most
common of all vices. The reason why they are so
little regarded is the same as that for which the positive
virtues are so little regarded, and this is just because
they are negatives of the positive virtues, and not of
the negative ones. The doing of positive good not being
recognized as the chief of virtues, the failure to do posi-
tive good is not recognized as the chief of vices.
Vices of prejudice belong among the negatives of
the positive virtues. The thing that a man of strong
positive virtue will most carefully do will be to find out
in what way his efforts can be most effectively applied
for the good of humanity. The man who does not
do this fails in one of the most important, and, indeed,
in the most fundamental of the active and positive
virtues. He must of necessity be the victim of preju-
dice; for the only safeguard against prejudice is knowl-
edge, and knowledge can he gained only by study and
experience. Radicalism is one of the greatest virtues;
the absence of it, one of the greatest vices. And this
brings me to the third and perhaps the most important
result of a change of view with regard to the nature of
virtue.
This result is that we shall come to regard the want
of knowledge, and even the good that is done under the
influence of this want, as of small account. We shall
regard the men and women who live on according to
old and traditional formula;, and who do what they con-
sider good in the old traditional ways, without taking
due care to study the circumstances and needs of their
own time, as what Jesus called them — mere play-actors.
The Greek word {uro/cpmfa, which we usually render by
hypocrite, means simply play-actor — a man whose life is
not an acting-out of his own inner nature and convic-
tions, hut a playing of a part learnt from tradition,
from bibles and catechisms. Nine-tenths of the good,
worth v, respectable people of our time are hypocrites in
the Scripture and Greek sense of the term. They live
by tradition. They act as their fathers did, simply
because their fathers did so act, without inquiring
whether such action suits our time and is calculated to
do good in it. Lowell savs
"New occasions teach new duties; time makes ancient good
uncouth :
We must upward still, and onward, who would keep abreast of
truth."
Exactly so, and this is what mere play-actors will
never learn. Inasmuch as their hearts do not beat in
unison with the universal life of their time, they live on
and with the shadows of the past. They are in truth
hobgoblins, haunting the living present.
There never was, in the world's history, a time when
hypocrisy or play-acting was so out of place as it is now.
In the last fifty years, the world, in all its relations, has
changed as it never changed before. Men's conditions
have widened, and with them their thoughts, aims and
ideals. Complications and problems have arisen never
dreamt of before. The old faiths do not meet men's
spiritual needs, or solve their intellectual problems, pro-
posed by advancing science. The old education does not
fit men for the duties of the present life. The old ways of
doing good, which suited small communities, where
manufacture and commerce ran in narrow grooves, do
not answer for the great communities which improved
means of communication have made possible.
The great enterprises and competitions of modern
industry have brought about conditions — 'mountains of
injustice leading to spiritual and physical degredation —
with which the old remedies are utterly incompetent to
deal. As well might one think to quench a Chicago
fire with a few old-fashioned water-buckets filled from
a draw-well, as to settle the problems and difficulties of
modern life with the old ways of doing good.
In spite of this self-evident fact, the great mass of
our so-called good people are doing their good in the
old ways, which are now often ways of doing evil.
Their old-fashioned charities, for the doing of which so
many people are considered worthy and good, are often
only so much money thrown into the capitalists' already
overflowing coffers. They simply enable the poor to
be content with less wages, to accept a smaller share of
the profits of labor from theiremployers, and thus, by
increasing the power of the industrial aristocracy, to
weld on more firmly the chains of their own slavery.
The fact is, that charity in the old sense has no
proper place in our world. A system that requires
charity is already more or less rotten, because it is a
system in which some parts are not self-sustaining, in
which some human beings have to place themselves in
the degrading position of dependence, of requiring good,
without being able to perform any. Unfortunately such
charity must, in extreme cases, be done, just as poison
must sometimes be swallowed; but we ought never to
blind ourselves to the meaning of such charity. In
truth, charity is twice cursed; it curses him that gives
and him that takes.
We must do our very best to put an end to charity,
THE OPEN COURT.
5*9
by putting an end to the need for it. We must, there-
fore, in the first place, without hypocrasy or fear, labor to
discover what those social and religious arrangements
are which cause the need for charity, by making men
weak and incapable of self-help, and then we must labor
with all our might to remove these conditions, and
replace them by better ones. Moreover, if we find
men and women, so-called respectable, who fail to do
this, we shall have a right to condemn them, as lacking
in those virtues that belong to their day and genera-
tion, the only virtues that are of any real moment. We
shall have a right to call upon them to leave off their
antiquated play-acting, and come, like sensible people,
and virtuously live their own true lifeand the life of the
present world.
To recapitulate: The view of man's nature revealed
to us by the doctrine of evolution shows us that he is
not a fallen creature, but a perpetually rising one — that
his moral aim is not to attain the zero-point of virtue,
the state of paradisiac innocence, but to increase forever
in positive, active virtue and power. The practical
results of this view upon our ideas of virtue are, in the
main, three: —
1. We learn to have little regard for those nega-
tive virtues which take the form of mere respectability, in
comparison with the positive virtues, which consist in
doing positive good.
2. We learn to have much more sympathy than
formerly with those whom the world does not count
respectable, the publican6 and the sinners.
3. We learn to reject those old-fashioned forms of
doing good, that do not meet the needs of our time, and
to despise the uninquiring, self-complacent hypocrisy
that prompts only such forms.
In a single word, we come to call upon men and
women to lay aside prejudice and hypocrisy, to study
and know their own nature, and the world, material,
social, political and spiritual, in which they live, and
then, taking off their fashionable gewgaws and furbe-
lows, to step down into the area of present human life,
and, like true sons of the light-god Ahura-Mazda, do
battle with Angro-Mainyus, the Prince of Darkness.
When they do this, they will find that all that their
efforts after respectability ever gave or promised, is
obtained with ease — and more. The negative virtues do
not insure the positive ones; but the positive ones do
insure the negative ones. A man whose soul and life
are filled with devotion to an aim that calls forth the
strongest efforts of his will and his nerves, runs no risk
of sinking into vice. It is only for idle hands that Satan
finds mischief. It is for want of the wholesome excite-
ment of well-doing that men seek the unwholesome
excitement of evil-doing.
The future well-being of society, as well as the
moral and physical health of the individual, depends, in
great measure, upon the transference of our highest
reverence from the mere negative virtues — a reverence
induced by obsolete notions concerning a creation and a
fall — to the positive virtues, shown by the theory of
evolution to be the highest. And the active virtues are
of three kinds — unwearied search for knowledge,
unbounded love in accordance with knowledge, and
indefatigable heroism, prompted by such knowledge
and such love.
NEW VIEWS OF RELIGION AND ETHICS.
BY F. M. HOLLAND.
Some remarkable contributions to the work of eman-
cipating morality from theology have recently been
made by a French philosopher who has not yet reached
the age of thirty- five. M. Guyau was only twenty
when he won a prize from the French Academy of
Moral and Political Science for an essay on utilitarianism,
which has since been published in two volumes, the one
mainly occupied with Epicurus, Lucretius and Helvetius,
and the other with Bentham, Mill and Spencer. His
knowledge, not only of the literature, but of the spirit
of Epicureanism, was so profound that this volume was
said by the Rcvuc Philosophiquc to have done honor
to French philosophy, while one of the ablest of living
moralists, Professor Sidgwick, called it in Mind " not
only the most ample and appreciative, but also— in spite
of some errors and exaggerations — the most careful and
penetrating account of the ethical system of Epicurus."
M. Guyau has also, as will be seen from the annexed
note, written poems highly praised in Paris; a discussion
of pending questions in aesthetics, like the prospects of
art in a republic, the relations of art and science, and the
alleged antagonism between art and manufactures; a
sketch of an original theory of ethics; and a prophecy
of the Irreligion of the Future. The last work was
submitted by Count Goblet d'Alviella to an elaborate-
review, which originally appeared in the Revue dc Rel-
gique and has just been republished in pamphlet form.*
All M. Guy au's books are inspired by love of
science, liberty and progress. The arts seem to him
gainers by the growth of science, democracy, factories,
and even railroads. The victories of Epicurus and
Lucretius over superstition are commemorated with the
comment that all religions which represent the past as
better than the present are essentially hostile to progress.
So also is the optimism which inspires the most advanced
forms of religion to-day, since if everything is for the
best there can be nothing to improve. Optimism means
apathy of the moral sense, demoralization of man by
God. If evil has been permitted by him in order to
* The works of M. Guyau are, La Morale a" Epicure et ses Rapports avec
Us Doctrines Contemporaines (which may be ordered for $2.75 through E. Stei-
ger, 25 Park place, New York, or from the publisher, Felix Alcan, Paris) ; La
Morale Anglaise Contemporaliie, $2.75; Vers d'ltn Philosopke, $1.30; Les Prob-
lemes de V Estlietique Conteinporaine, $1 .$S; Esquisse d'unMorale sans Obliga
tion ni Sanction, $i.S5; V Irrtligion de VAvenir, $2.75.
^20
THE OPEN COURT.
make us better, then its gradual disappearance must be
continually and inevitably making us worse. And as
for immortality, "a doctrine which is God's main ex-
cuse," full evidence has been given by science, not only
of the transitoriness of individuals and even races, but
also of the absence of any influence from disembodied
spirits over natural phenomena. (See Rsquisse pp.
63-84.) " Blessed are ye of little faith, who do not wish
to debase your intellectual nobility, and who never cease
to scrutinize your feelings and test your reasonings; you
do not believe that you will ever be able to know the
whole eternal truth, and precisely on this account are
you the only thinkers who can hold any part of it; you
have enough of the true faith to keep on searching,
where others stop; the future is yours; and it is you
who will mould humanity in coming ages.''1 (Esquisse,
p. 235.) " Doubt is only consciousness that our thought
is not absolute truth, and can never grasp it, even indi-
rectly; in this light doubt is the most religious act of
human thought.''' (U Irreligion, p. 329.) "All that is
respectable in the religions is merely the germ of that
spirit of scientific and philosophic investigation which
tends to-day to overthrow them, one after another."
"Religion was at first only a crude science, but has fin-
ished by becoming the enemy of science." [Ibid. p. 353.)
"We had rather see truth in all her purity than in parti-
colored vestments; to clothe her is to degrade her."
(Ibid. p. 153.) "An opinion which makes itself divine
is an opinion which condemns itself." [Ibid. p. 226.)
"Toleration is a sign of enfeeblement of faith; a relig-
ion which comprehends another is a dying one." (Ibid.
p. 1 12.) " Liberal Christians suppress what is properly
called religion in order to replace it with religious mor-
ality." " They treat with Jehovah as with an equal, and
speak to him, as Matthew Arnold does, somewhat thus:
•Art thou a person ? I do not know. Hast thou had
prophets and a Messiah? I don't believe it. Art thou
watching over me particularly and working miracles?
I deny it. But there is one thing, and only one, which
I do believe in, my morality. If thou art willing to
guarantee that and put the reality into harmony with
my ideal, we will make an alliance together. If I can
affirm my own existence as a moral being, I will affirm
thine into the bargain.'" (Ibid. pp. 142, 143.) "Science
does not show us a universe working spontaneously to
realize what we call good; it is we who must bend the
world to our will in order to realize this; we must
enslave those gods whom we began by worshiping;
the kingdom of God must give place to the kingdom of
man." (Ibid. p. 335.)
Thus M. Guyau keeps the most advanced forms of
religion in full view, as he argues in his latest and ablest
book, V Irreligion de PAvenir, that the future triumph
of irreligion is not only certain but desirable. He points
to such facts as that all the churches, synagogues, etc.,
of Paris could not contain a tenth part of the popula-
tion, and are never more than half full, and quotes
M. Renan's words, in conversation, thus: "Oh yes,
irreligion is the end toward which we march. After
all, why should not mankind dispense with dogmas?
Speculation will replace religion. Already, among the
most advanced nations, dogmas disintegrate; an inner
working breaks and scatters these incrustations of
thought. Most of us in France are already irreligious;
the man of the people believes scarcely more than the
scientist. In Germany, too, the decomposition of dog-
mas is already far advanced. In England it has only
begun; but it goes on quickly. Christianity has free
thought for its natural result. So has Buddhism. The
time may be long, but religion is passing away, and we
can already imagine an age when there will be none for
Europe. If the Turks will not follow us, we can do with-
out them." (IJ Irreligion, pp. 321, 322.) M. Guyau,
in what is perhaps his best chapter, points out the ten-
dency of religious education to enfeeble thought and
excite the feelings excessively, as proof that children will
be better off without it, and that no father ought to keep
even hisdoubts and negations to himself. To tell children
that their father and mother think differently, and that
each has reasons for it4 is to teach them the precious
lesson of tolerance. (Pp. 22S, 240, 241, 245.) Woman
will cease to be more devout than man as larger fields
of activity open to her intellect in the improvement of
her education. Restitution of her political rights is
already demanded, and may possibly come as a result of
her religious emancipation. " At all events her emanci-
pation as a citizen is only a question of time." ( P. 251.)
An interesting instance is added of the conversion of a
Roman Catholic by her husband, who first persuaded
her, as an aid to his studies, to write out an abstract of
Renan's Life of fesus for him, and then advised her to
read the Bible from the beginning. The Old Testa-
ment she soon threw down in disgust; and even in the
New she found so many contradictions, superstitions
and immoralities that, to use her own words, " Hence-
forth my beliefs existed no more; I was betrayed by
my God!" (Pp. 262-265.) The place left vacant by
Christianity is not likely to be filled either by the trans-
cendentalism derived, through Emerson and Parker,
from Kant and Schelling, or by the Cosmic religion
produced by Spencer'sphilosophy of evolution, and repre-
sented by Messrs. Fiske, Potter and Savage. All these
pretended religions are only shadows of speculations —
mere philosophies, and sometimes false ones; and we
may speak of most of them as Mark Pattison does,
when he says he saw in the Positivist chapel "three
persons and no God." No idea of the infinite can
become a basis for religion until it is personified.
Spencer affirms too much about his " unknowable," and
pantheism is likely to end in pessimism." (Pp. 15,313*
THE OPEN COURT.
521
334, 402.) In the final form of the religious sentiment
there can be no unity, but the greatest diversity. What-
ever good has been done by the churches will be kept
up by new associations for intellectual, philanthropic
and xsthetic ends; and a particularly good example
may be found in the Ethical Culture Societv of Felix
Adler. (P. 316.) The system of thought which is
likelv to reign supreme is monism. This is the end to
which all our theories tend. This hypothesis unites all
the most certain data of science and recognizes the
homogeneity of all beings, the identity of nature. It is
not mystical or transcendental, but naturalistic. Instead
of resolving matter into spirit, or spirit into matter, we
accept both as reunited in the synthesis, life; and thus
we maintain the balance between the mental and
material sides of existence. (Pp. 436, 437-)
(TO BE CONCLUDED IN' NEXT ISSUE.)
DOUBT.
BY GEORGE E. MONTGOMERY IN AMERICAN MAGAZINE
Doubt is the restless pinion of the mind,
And wings the soul to action; we are prone
To hold things sacred which are least divined,
To sleep away our summers with the drone,
To value wisdom that is dumb and blind.
But doubt makes thinkers, dreamers, soldiers, men;
Looks forward, never backward; shows the face
Of falsehood in the untrue gods; and when,
Like one too little reverenced in his time —
One in his deeper sense of life sublime —
It reasons light from darkness, we perceive
That men may learn by doubting to believe.
RESPONSUM NATURAE.
BY A. C. BOWES.
"If a man die, shall he live again?"
My child, if many weary days
I need thee in my vast domain
To fashion, reconstruct, upraise,
Thy being perfecting the chain
Of being, thou must live again.
But if thy work is done, why grieves
Thy spirit? for my forest deep,
With all its murmuring tuneful leaves,
Shall chant in music tender, sweet
The peace of thine eternal sleep.
To us the value of the Ethical Culture movement con-
sists in this: that it emphasizes that on which all the
sects and "the outside world" are substantially agreed,
while it teaches none of the theological dogmas in regard
to which these sects differ, and which for large numbers
of the best minds have no interest whatever. For this
reason Ethical Culture societies should receive encourage-
ment and support from all truly unsectarian liberal men
and women.
The Open Court.
A. FORTNICHTLVJOURNAL.
Published every other Thursday at 169 to 175 La Salle Street (Nixor
Buildingi, corner Monroe Street, by
THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY
B. I'. UNDERWOOD,
Editor and Manager.
SARA A. UNDERWOOD,
Associate Editor.
The leading object of The Open Court is to continue
the work of The Index, that is, to establish religion on the
basis of Science and in connection therewith it will present the
Monistic philosophy. The founder c f this journal believes this
will furnish to others what it has to him, a religion which
embraces all that is true and good in the religion that was taught
in childhood to them and him.
Editorially, Monism and Agnosticism, so variously denned,
will be treated not as antagonistic systems, but as positive and
negative aspects of the one and only rational scientific philosophy,
which, the editors hold, includes elements of truth common to
all religions, without implying either the validity of theological
assumption, or any limitations of possible knowledge, except such
as the conditions of human thought impose.
The Open Court, while advocating morals and rational
religious thought on the firm basis of Science, will aim to substi-
tute for unquestioning credulity intelligent inquiry, for blind faith
rational religious views, for unreasoning bigotry a liberal spirit,
tor sectarianism a broad and generous humanitarianism. With
this end in view, this journal will submit all opinion to the crucial
test of reason, encouraging the independent discussion by able
thinkers of the great moral, religious, social and philosophical
problems which are engaging the attention of thoughtful minds
and upon the solution of which depend largely the highest inter-
ests of mankind
While Contributors are expected to express freely their own
views, the Editors are responsible only for editorial matter.
Terms of subscription three dollars per year in ad.ance,
postpaid to any part of the United States, and "three dollars and
fifty cents to foreign countries comprised in the postal union.
All communications intended for and all business letters
relating to The Open Court should be addressed to 1!. F.
Underwood, Treasurer, P. O. Drawer F, Chicago, 111., to whom
should be made payable checks, postal orders and express orders
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 27, 1S87.
MONUMENTS.
Whenever a man of any note or prominence dies,
the people who were especially interested in him, anxious
to give expression to that interest, generally think first
of all of erecting a monument to commemorate
his memory and his virtues, and they bestir themselves
in the first excitement of regret at his loss to secure
funds from his admirers for that purpose. Often the
effort is partially unsuccessful, and the proposed monu-
ment fails to be erected from lack of the amount neces-
sary for its completion. The world is so full of men
eagerly scrambling for its few places of prominence that,
long before such monuments can he raised, new favor-
ites in the same line have taken their places and made
the memory of the dead hero of very little interest to
those once so eager to praise and honor him.
But, nevertheless, a great deal of money seems to us
absolutely wasted in this direction — money which could
be put to much better use in more worthy perpetuation
of the lives of good or honored men and women than
522
THE OPEN COURT.
in these cumbrous structures of stone, marble, etc., which
by right belong to the less civilized ages in which they
originated, and where they really served a useful and
necessary purpose in recording events in history of which
there was no other record possible at the time. But
they are none the less relics of barbarism which, in these
days, when the printers' and engravers' art makes care-
ful record of every life, deed, and event worthy of note,
are no longer needed, and the building of them
should cease, thus marking our advance in civilization.
For, indeed, they do not now serve the purpose for
which at first they were intended. We are no longer
sure, in beholding the most magnificent monument,
whether it is raised by admiring multitudes to honor
deeds of valor or a noble life, or by some wealthy
nobody in commemoration of his own vanity. Our cem-
eteries are filled with the most beautiful works of art)
the finest monuments, in memory of merely rich people
whose lives were purposeless and whose memories are
not even kept alive by such means, since there is such a
surfeit of them. Within a week or two one of the
Chicago dailies, describing the monuments in one of this
city's finest cemeteries, gave an engraving of the cost-
liest and most beautiful monument erected therein, which
was raised to the memory of a wealthy provision dealer
whose name (not having traded with him) was wholly
unfamiliar to us. There can then no longer be any
great honor shown to a man's merits by such commem-
oration. But shall merit and worth then go unrecog-
nized? Shall a man, in his desire to be remembered
after death, find no sure method of perpetuating his
memory to honor his descendants by the luster of his
worthy life and deeds?
With already so many true monuments, or remind-
ers of the lives of noble men and women who have
passed away from our sight, as we have, it is but a poor
imagination which can think of no other method to
make record of such lives than by gravings on stone
marble or bronze. What monument, however costly,
could so well recall the memory of James Lewis Smith-
son as the Smithsonian Institute which he founded?
Stephen Girard would have been long since forgotten
but for the Girard College; thousands every year bless
the memory of Peter Cooper, whose not naturally hand-
some face we have seen radiant with pleasure and beau-
tiful with kindness on the "reception nights " held in
his munificent and sensible gift to struggling men and
women, "Cooper Institute;" James Lick, odd, eccentric
and independent as he was, would already have become
less than a name, though it is but a few years since he
died, were it not for his beneficent gifts, of which the
Lick Observatory alone is sufficient to immortalize him;
John Harvard would never have been heard of to-day
had he taken the whole sum given to found Harvard
College and built himself therewith a monument of
granite. A modest New England girl of quiet tastes
and fond of literature, named Sophia Smith, would
never have been heard of outside of the little village
where she lived and died, in spite of the fact of her
inheriting a fortune, if she had not wisely endowed
Smith College for the higher education of women with
that fortune; and the Lilly Hall of Science attached to
that college will keep forever green the memory of
Alfred Theodore Lilly when his kindly face shall have
passed away from the memory of living women. So,
too, will the name of Mary Lyon be ever remembered
in the history of woman's progress in education; the
Order of the Red Cross will continue its beneficent
work long after Clara Barton shall have " passed beyond
the bounds of time," and her name will be forever
embalmed in its archives. No marble monument could
ever be so dear to the soul of Horace Greeley as the
words which to-day head the editorial pages of the New
York l^ribunc : "Founded by Horace Greeley"; and
the soul of the elder Bennett still "goes marching on"
through the columns of the New York Herald of to-day,
though he has long since joined "the innumerable
throng." And these are but a few instances of the
thousands of such immortal monuments which men and
women have raised to their own memory; and through
their wisely directed efforts or beneficent use of money
such monuments, of less or greater magnificence, it is
possible for every man and woman to raise for themselves,
so that being dead they may yet speak. The benevo-
lent deed, the charitable act, the inspiring word, the lov-
ing look, the wise planning will keep your memory
green and your name unforgotten in the hearts of as
many as profited through them. A. T. Stewart was a
few vears ago a name of power. He, as a living man,
was a powerful factor in society because of his wealth
and financial ability, but his thought was ever of him-
self, not of others, and he died without putting into
motion any influence in behalf of humanity; his vast
wealth has been of little use save to keep lawyers
employed in one way or another since his death. Bit
by bit all that owed its being to him has been disinte-
grated— the great possibilities his wealth offered to him
of building a monument which would commemorate
him, wherever his bod}' might be hid away, he never
accepted. In a very few years, in face of fortunes
even more colossal than his own, his name will be
forgotten and will carry no meaning to a younger gen-
eration.
If we would, as a people, honor after death any
brave or good man's memory, we can build such helpful
institutions as they would have been glad to found or
aid had they the means, and call them by the names we
wish to engrave in the minds of those who might other-
wise forget the virtues which they embodied.
We enforce and close our plea for the abolishment
THE OPEN COURT.
523
of the uncivilized monuments of to-day by the words of
a poet unknown to us:
The modest, humble and obscure,
Living unnoticed and unknown,
May raise a shaft that will endure
Longer than pyramids of stone.
The carven statue turns to dust.
And marble obelisks decay,
But deeds of pity, faith and trust,
No storms of fate can sweep away.
Their base stands on the rock of right,
Their apex reaches to the skies ;
They glow with the increasing light
Of all the circling centuries. s. a. u.
VOLAPUK, THE UNIVERSAL LANGUAGE.
Leibnitz devoted much time to the construction of
his Specicuse Generate, which fell flat. Labbe invented
a philosophical language, and 1663 Kircher published his
Polygraphia. In 166S the Royal Society sanctioned
John Wilkins' Philosophical Language by publication
in London.
Most inventors of this kind attempted the ideographic
— to have signs represent ideas. We have this is math-
ematics in the plus and minus signs, but practically this
is reverting to hieroglyphics.
Johann Martin Schleyer seems to have solved the
problem, for in 1S7S he arranged the most simple artifi-
cial language and so rapidlv has it been recognized as of
practical use that in Europe, Asia and Africa one million
persons are said to use it in their intercourse.
The alphabet employed is the Roman with some of
the German dotted letters added. Volapiik is formed
on the general model of Aryan tongues in its signs rep-
resenting letters and words, the root words being taken
from living languages, mainly Indo-Germanic and
Romance.
In making the vocabulary English afforded the
largest number of words; Latin, German, French and
Spanish next, in the order named.
The simple Anglo-Saxon roots abound in English
and their brevity caused their adoption. The numerals
are 1 bal, 2 tel, 3 kil, 4 fol, 5 lul, 6 mal, 7 vel, 8 jol, 9
ziil, 10 bals, 20 ters, 100 turn, 1,000 mil, million balion;
11 would be balsebal, the letter e meaning and. So 21
would he telsebal.
There is but one declension. S added to any word
forms the plural which is never formed in any other way.
The first three vowels added to any noun form the
genitive, dative and accusative.
Thus Vol, Norn. World.
Vola, Gen. Of the World.
Vole, Dat. To the World.
Volt, Ace. The or a World.
Worlds would be vols. Every noun is declined in the
same way. The verbs are all regular and there is but
one conjugation. The tenses are denoted by the letters
a e i o u placed before the verbs; the letter p preceding
these denote the passive voice. The personal pronouns
are 06 I, ol thou, otn he, <?/~she, os it, on they.
The verb Lof, to love, would be conjugated thus:
Lofob, I love. Lofobs, we love.
Lofol, thou lovest. Lofols, ye love.
Lo/'om, he loves. Lofoms, they (on) love.
Lofof, she loves. Lofofs, they (f) love.
Imperfect, <iliifob, I loved.
Perfect, elofob, I have loved.
Pluperfect, iliifob, 1 had loved.
Future, oliifob, I will love.
Future perfect, ulofob, I will have loved.
Palofob is I am loved, pelofob I have been loved,
and so on.
Negatives are no. Adjectives are formed by adding
ik to the noun: gud is the good and gudik good, com-
pared thus: gudik gudihum, gudihum. Adverbs are
made by adding o to the adjective: gudiko is well.
So much is made of one stem or root that there is
little to memorize after learning the system.
Max Miiller is quoted as saying: "The universal
language of Professor Schleyer is well known to me. I
thoroughly agree with the principles upon which it is
based."
Savants, travelers and merchants will have the great-
est use for Volapiik. There are eight hundred lan-
guages to-day, forty or fifty of which are spoken by
civilized people who are fast being united in interest by
railroads, telegraphs and steamboats. It takes years to
learn three or four Romance or Germanic tongues and
much longer to learn a single Hindoo or Semitic dialect.
Turkish, Japanese and Chinese are still more difficult.
The principles of Volapiik can be learned in a few min-
utes and a month's study makes one a fluent writer and
speaker. There are already a dozen periodicals pub-
lished in Volapiik, the commercial journals being the
most favored. Soon medical and scientific works will
be worded in the new language with an ever increasing
number of cosmopolitan readers. Discoveries that have
lain dormant for years because in inaccessible languages
will be widely announced. A German poem "The
Eye of the Child, has been thus translated into
Volapiik:
Log Cii.a.
O log cila, mag nifala!
Logob velik stalis olik
No peglumol fa deb sina.
Litos se ol jin lanelik.
As pronounced in English spelling the verse would
sound somewhat as follows:
O logue chelah margue neyfalah!
Logobue velique stalees olique
No paygloomwail fah daib senah,
Leetos say ole sheen lanelique.
The accent is on the last syllable in every word.
;2 +
THE OPEN COURT.
The language is being taught in Chicago by Pro-
fessor Henry Cohn, and the literature, grammars, etc.,
are imported by E. Steiger & Co., of New York.
Not only will travel and business be facilitated by its
use, but political and religious intriguery and hatred,
fostered by Eastern political chiefs, will be rendered less
effective. Diplomatic relations will not, as in the case
of treaties, be capable of two or more constructions, as
Volapiik is free from ambiguity. In common with
everything scientific it advocates "Menede bal,pi/ki bal :"
One mankind, one language.
THE DANGEROUS CLASSES.
Some weeks ago a pamphlet which has attracted
some attention appeared in London entitled Who Arc
Our Dangerous Classes? The writer after descrihiug
the different classes of people found in a great city, and
the motives which govern them, puts them all in two
great divisions — those who desire to better their posi-
tion in life and those who are satisfied as they are. In
the former class, of course, are included all wage workers,
and in the second, all who have inherited fortunes, who
have landed estates or have retired on a competency.
Restlessness [says the writer of the pamphlet] is but another
name for ambition, and this is what actuates the working class of
society- They desire to improve their condition, to advance with
their times, and to have some hand in the administration of the
government under which they live. Opposed to this restless
ambition of the progressive class is the sluggish contentment of
the self satisfied class who desire no change in the well-worn
machinery of society. Thev have enough ; the world in its present
state is good enough for them; they can live well and happily.
What matters it to them who may die of want? They protest
against any change and prefer to keep on in the same old ruts
that society has run in for the last century. They do not seem to
be aware that cities are larger and wants more numerous and
varied now than a hundred years ago.
The author goes on to say that the "self-satisfied
class " really constitute the dangerous class of society,
because, being well off they see no reason for change,
and therefore oppose every progressive movement and
cling to old forms. He denounces this lethargy and
declares that the so-called lower classes are waking up
to the knowledge of higher and better things, and that
the time has come when they must obtain their rights;
that the upper classes, who are really the dangerous
classes, must come out of their dormancy and assist in
the inevitable revolution of old ideas, or else they "must
stand from under, for the people propose now to demand
as rights what once they were wont to ask as gracious
privileges." There is much in this pamphlet that is true,
especially in regard to England, where there is a vast
amount of entailed wealth in the hands of men who
never earned it, and by whom it is used in many cases
only for their own selfish pleasure. It is so common for
these men to defend everything that is " established,"
and to oppose every measure offered to improve the
condition of the mass of the people, that it is not strange
this socialistic writer includes them among the dan-
gerous classes. We have seen the pamphlet referred to
by some American papers as though the statements
quoted above were true even of this country.
A very proper and important question in this con-
nection is, What are the rights of the "lower classes?"
Certainly among them is the right by industry, economy
and education to improve their condition, to raise them-
selves to positions among the so-called higher classes.
Having done this must they at once be considered as
belonging to the "dangerous classes?" Must they sur-
render their property or other advantages gained by
application and self-denial to those who, while deploring
their condition make no effort to better it? Can there
be progress without a guarantee of the undisturbed pos-
session of the fruits of honest industry and frugality ?
A right to equality of opportunity all men can justly
demand, but it will not do for the unsuccessful to de-
mand as a right that they be made equal sharers in the
advantages of other men's efforts. Those who have
been successful should not, and in this country generally
are not indifferent to the condition of those who, from
whatever causes, have been unable to raise themselves
from extreme poverty; but the men who have failed in
life have no right to denounce those who by honorable
methods have acquired wealth, or to find fault with a
competitive system which is absolutely essential to civili-
zation and progress. Relief of distress is a duty, and
for this provision has to be made at the expense of
society, or of humane associations and individuals; but
the most radical and far-reaching measures for the help
of those who cannot manage to live in comfort and
decency without assistance, are those which develop and
stimulate whatever of independence, self-respect and
self-reliance they possess, and tend to make them hope-
ful and self-supporting.
In this country the dangerous classes are the ignor-
ant, the idle and vicious, who with a desire for the com-
forts and luxuries of life, have an aversion to work, by
which alone they can be obtained, and whose inclinations
put them in sympathy with every movement designed
to produce a conflict between employers and the em-
ployed, together with the men who dishonestly use
public positions of honor and trust in their own inter-
ests and in the interests of corporations and combina-
tions, thereby corrupting the legislation of the country
and defeating the will of the people, making elections
by ballot a farce, and popular government a mockery.
The National Press, 100 Mount Road, Madras,
India, has published a pamphlet, metaphysical in char-
acter, entitled Absolute Monism ; or Mind is Matter and
Matter is Mind.
THE OPEN COURT.
5 -'5
In Massachusetts, where the Irish and Canadian
Roman Catholics make up a considerable part of the
population, there is a steady increase in the number of
Roman Catholic parochial schools, and in some com-
munities thev have greatly depleted the public schools.
Particularly is this the case in Maiden, where in one
ward, the parochial school grew too large for its build-
ing and applied for some of the unoccupied rooms in the
public school building. In the Northwest the Roman
Catholics are making determined war upon the public
school system, and in isolated cases with some success.
In Barton, Wis., last year, they were able to carry a
resolution at the annual meeting that no public school
should be maintained during the vear, and none was
held. This vear, taking advantage of the law giving
women the right to vote at school elections, they brought
out all their women, and in spite of opposition carried
the same resolution again. At Melrose, Minn., a move-
ment was led by the Catholic priests to shorten the
the school year of the public schools in order to compel
children to attend the parochial school. " Throughout
Stearns Countv, Minn.," says an exchange, " the Roman
catechism is said to be taught openly in the public
schools, and either opening or the closing hours of the
session are devoted to religious instruction given by the
priests, all this being in direct violation of the State
Constitution, and especially of an amendment adopted
in 1S77 to meet this very condition." The evidences of
a carefully planned assault upon our public school sys-
tem are so clear that its friends are beginning to consider
how best to meet this assault.
A writer in the Epoch (C. Rergersberg), says that
the Oriental question cannot be solved peaceably owing
to the many conflicting interests which can be settled
only by the sword. " If a general war breaks out now,"
he says " the probable constellation is Germany, Aus-
tria, Italy and possibly England, against Russia, France
and perhaps Turkey, odd as the last-named power may
sound in this union." In spite of her 2,000,000 soldiers
on paper, he believes Russia in consequence of her cor
rupt military administration and incomplete railway and
transfer system, is unable to concentrate half a million
men on an)- one given point of her frontier. Against
her detached army corps and flying brigades there will
be nearly a million Austrians, Hungarians and Rouma-
nians in the South. Germany must be prepared to fight
with France. If the Italian alliance holds good Italy
will send some 400,000 men into Southern France, and
thus absorb about the same number of the French army
which, in the North, will have to face about a million
Germans. Germany will have about half a million
against Russia. This writer is of the opinion that Bis-
marck has grave political and diplomatic reasons for
unwonted leniencv toward his turbulent neighbors.
The Crown Prince is neither a statesman nor a military
genius, his battles having been won by his chief of staff.
Gen. Blumenthal ; but the Crown Princess Victoria is
talented and ambitious and has the will to be the power
behind the throne. She is an antagonist of B smarck,
and her hobby is parliamentary government in Germany.
But the scheme of the Crown Princess, if carried out,
would be disastrous to the young Empire, which must
remain an essentially military power. Her son William,
with whom in matters of government she has no influ-
ence, is a statesman and a soldier, and has many notions
in common with the Emperor with whom he is a great
favorite, and is a great admirer of Bismarck. As the
Crown Prince is suffering from what may prove to be
an incurable disease, indications point to the descent of
the Imperial Crown from William I. to William II.,
provided the present Emperor lives a few years longer.
" We therefore," says the writer from whose article we
have condensed the above, " need not look further for
reasons why Bismarck does not wish to expose the
Emperor, so precious to the Empire (which is, so to say,
his own creation), to the excitement and fatigue of a
war from which the old soldier certainly would not stay
away."
Rev. Dr. Bartol, always brilliant but rather erratic,
has been somewhat under the influence of the mind-cure
craze, and last week he made a little speech, according
to announcement, at a convention of the "Christian
Scientists" held in Boston. But he was evidently not
in a mood to give the craze much aid or comfort. He
spoke as follows:
I believe jour school is extravagant and apt to be exclusive.
Then there arc some things that you cannot do. I was riding in
the cars the other day and a cinder got into my eve. I tried your
cure but it was not successful, and I had to go to an oculist to get it
out. Now, I believe that you can take the beam out of my eye, but
the cinder is too much for you. When you can take the cinder
out of my eye or set a broken limb, I can believe thoroughly in
your cure, and not till then. Let us be consistent, let us be honest.
I believe somewhat in faith-cure, but I do not think I have ever
heard from any platform or read in any magazine a justification
or proof of it. I believe a little in faith-cure, but I do not believe
it can remove the germs of typhoid fever. So you see I am not
on the fence — I am on both sides of it.
Some one rose in the back of the hall at the close of Dr. Bar-
tors address and said he would like to ask a question. Permission
being given, he called out: "Is it possible to successfully face
both ways?"
Dr. Bartol immediately raised a laugh by answering: "I can
look all around."
One of the most affecting epitaphs with which the
editor has come in contact is one engraved on a stone
which stands in a small private burial ground in a New
Hampshire village. Beneath lie the remains of a young
man who literally wore himself to death by study and
by a bitter fight for tolerance and what he believed to
526
THE OPEN COURT.
be the truths of religion in the midst of a community
hard headed, intolerant, and not at all of his own way
of thinking. A few days before his death the young
man sent to a college friend in a neighboring State the
couplet which he had written for his own tombstone,
and requesting him to see that it was inscribed thereon.
The villagers so strongly objected — this was two score
years ago — to the burial of the remains of one they
regarded as an atheist in the village graveyard, that the
grave was made in a thicket of spruces belonging to the
dead man's paternal estate, and without name or date
the stone bears the words:
"As a defender of the truth I fought,
The truth is still the truth though I am naught."
— Boston Courier.
Dr. W. T. Barnard, approvingly quotes Mr. Wm.
Mather, an English observer of American schools,
who says, "with an income of $225,000 a year, it will
appear possible for a large amount of work to be done
by this [the Johns Hopkins] University among the peo-
ple of the city, without in any degree diminishing the
higher class of instruction in the advanced stages of liter-
ary and scientific study." We would regard a division of
the fund for such purposes as wrong. The Johns
Hopkins is the only school in the Union that furnishes
adequate instruction in the higher departments of sci-
ence, and it would be sending a man on a boy's errand
to convert it into a manual training school. Its pupils
will learn to instruct in practical branches, and if the
Johns Hopkins is let alone, hundreds of technological
schools will proceed from it.
Sa\s ThcXation:
The fall in the Boersein Berlin, in consequence of the renewed
unfavorable accounts of the condition of the Crown Prince's
throat, is a natural consequence of the fact that his eldest son, and
the next heir to the imperial throne in case of his death, is a young
man of the military type, who has little sympathy with or com-
prehension of constitutional liberty or the parliamentary system,
being in all these respects a great contrast to his father. The
patience of the German Liberals under the slights put upon them
by Bismarck has been due, in some degree, to the knowledge that
a regime more favorable to them would come in with the death ot
the old Emperor and the accession of his son, who is a man of
peace and imbued with constitutional ideas, and has but little
sympathy with Bismarck's high-handed ways. If, however, the
crown were now to pass again to a mere soldier, a long period of
trouble at home and abroad might be opened up. But it has to be
borne in mind that even young soldiers are apt to be sobered by
the cares of state and the difficulty, even on the throne, of having
one's own way,
# # *
Mr. W. M. Salter spoke last Sunday at the Grand
Opera House, this city, on the crime and punishment of
the seven condemned anarchists. He claimed that only
three of the men had been proven accessories before the
fact of the murder of the policeman Degan — Fngel,
Fischer and Lingg. These he thought the State should
imprison for life. The other four, Spies, Schwab,
Fielden and Parsons, he believed, after examining all
the evidence, not guilty of the crime for which they have-
been condemned. They were guilty of sedition and
were engaged in a conspiracy against the State. This
was their offense and for this they should be imprisoned
for a term of years. On another page mav be found
Mr. Salter's address in full, printed from his manuscript.
* * *
Referring to the recent action of the American
Board of Foreign Missions at their Springfield meeting,
the Boston Herald says:
All important is it, therefore, for the vounger, more enlight-
ened and humaner members of the orthodox Congregational
body to make their point-blank appeal to their congregations as
to whether the possession of a broad and infinite spirit of tender-
ness and redeeming mercy ought really to prove an insuperable
religious barrier toward any hope of usefulness among the heathen.
The more such ministers are excluded from the foreign field, the
hotter will grow the righteous indignation of their admirers at
home. In truth, the world is growing very sick of theological
inhumanity. A new current has set in through the sympathy of
nations with one another — sympathy in their mutual institutions,
literatures, philosophies and religions — which is bearing all reflect-
ing minds along with it toward another and a better future. No
American board of foreign missions, however conservative and
fossilized, can stav this tendency.
Harriet Martineau, in her Notes on America^ thus
wrote of the prosecution of Abner Kneeland for blas-
phemy, which occurred in 1S35:
One clear consequence of my conversation and experience
together was that the next prosecution for blasphemy in Massa-
chusetts was the last. An old man, nearly seventy, was impris-
oned in a grated dungeon for having printed that he believed the
God of the Universalists to be a "chimera of the imagination."
Some who had listened to my assertions of the rights of thought
and speech drew up a memorial to the governor of the S'ate for
a pardon for old Abner Kneeland, stating their ground with great
breadth and clearness, while disclaiming any kind of sympathy
with the views and the spirit of the victim. The prime mover
being a well-known religious man, and Dr. Charming being will-
ing to put his name at the head of the list of requisitionists, the
principle of their remonstrance stood out brightly and unmistak-
ably. The religious corporations opposed the petitioners with all
their efforts, and the newspapers threw dirt at them with extraor-
dinary vigor, so that the governor did not grant their request.
But when old Abner Kneeland came out of his prison everybody
knew that the ancient phase of societ3' had passed away, and that
there would never again be a prosecution for blasphemy in
Massachusetts."
* * *
Attempts have been made to deface Voltaire's statue
at Besancon by vandals in the employ, it is believed, of
the clerical partv. Placards are posted blackening Vol-
taire's memory and consigning his adherents and
admirers to eternal fire. Police are obliged to guard the
statue every night.
THE OPEN COURT.
527
THE RELATION OF MIND TO MATTER.
BY PROF. E. D. COPE.
As the object of The Open Couht is stated to be
on it title-page " The Work of Establishing Ethics and
Religion upon a Scientific Basis," the discussion of the
relation of mind to matter falls clearly within its scope.
The evidence for theism or for atheism is to be obtained
from this inquiry, and the nature of evil receives its
explanation from the facts of this relation. Assump-
tions as to this relation lie at the basis of all theologies
and anti-theologies, and the fundamental propositions of
human belief are to be refuted or established by the
research. The discovery of these relations constitutes
the highest goal of scientific investigation, so that
theology is seen to be entirely dependent on the scien-
tific method. But the progress of science is necessarily
so slow that men in their natural impatience for a fin-
ished rule of life, or for a finished philosophy, have
always affirmed or denied more than actual knowledge
has warranted. Has a century of scientific activity done
anything to supply this aching void of the human mind
and heart? I think it has done something, although
not a great deal. And with our usual impatience we
again build bevond the foundation thus acquired, super-
structures which the further progress of science will
sustain or refute.
The proposition that the mind of men and animals
is the essential and effective director of their designed
movements seems to be one of those fundamental facts
of observation for which proof is no more necessary
than for the opinion that fire is hot and that ice is cold.
The only person who denies its truth, with whom I
have had the pleasure of an acquaintance, is Dr. Edmund
Montgomery. To him the person who adopts .this
view, without other than the evidence of our senses, is
begging the question. I had hoped and anticipated that
this gentleman, in opposing this opinion and its conse-
quences, would have brought forward some convincing
evidence from scientific sources to show that it fs an
error; that he would have substituted for it some
hypothesis which is sustained by the latest scientific
research — say, for instance, a statement of his doctrine
of " specific energies." But this he has not done, but
instead thereof presents certain logical considerations,
which, while of importance, are altogether of the
a priori class of arguments, and do not touch on scientific
questions at all. They deal with that aspect of the sub-
ject which is most remote from the scientific base-line,
which is yet in the field of hypothesis, as I have taken
pains to state in my reply to him. And they do not in
the least invalidate the scientific basis of theism, which
rests on the now known influence of mind on the char-
acter of organic evolution.
Until Dr. Montgomery produces evidence to the
contrary I will re-affirm this fundamental fact of evolu-
tion. The structure of organic beings has been pro-
duced by the interaction of their bodies in whole or in
part with the environment. This interaction means, in
large part, motion, and that motion has been determined
by the conscious state of the organism. Therefore con-
sciousness pro tanto is the cause of the evolution of
organic types. Many apparent exceptions to this prop-
osition may be readily adduced, as in the case of plants,
and of the reflex acts of animals, unconscious cerebra-
tion, etc.; but these, when investigated, lead back to
the same source, consciousness, so far as evidence of
design in structure may be detected. Something has
been due to a contractility, which is a physical character
of some kind of protoplasm; but without conscious
direction this contractility counts for little in evolution.
But it is argued by some that the supposition that the
appearance of design in the structure of organism is
deceptive, and is only the expression of an accidental
adaptation which alone among countless failures has
survived. This is incredible for three reasons: first, it
is contrary to the law of chance that the nice adapta-
tions which we observe should be accidentally created;
second, the variations which have appeared, whether
many or few, must have had a physical cause, which is
ignored in the most unscientific way by this school, of
which Mr. G. J. Romanes is chief; third, it leaves abso-
lute!}' no use for conscious direction of energy; and I
may add, fourth, it is entirely contrary to the evidence
of paleontological science. And I must repeat here that
the evidence as to the nature of creation must be chiefly
sought in the modern science of evolution, and is not
likely to be discovered by the student of the functioning
of organic or inorganic machinery. In functioning we
have principally destruction- "dissipation of energy
and integration of matter." In evolution we have com-
plication of matter through the profitable direction of
energy. My friend, Dr. Clevenger, for instance, views
the subject from the standpoint of physiology, or the
functioning of the animal organism; and in spite of his
learning in purely mental science he has not gotten hold
of the idea so clearly taught by the science of evolution.
To repeat once more what this idea is, I state the fol-
lowing proposition, which I am at present engaged in
sustaining by abundant facts:
Hie successive modifications of structure which con-
stitute the evolution of animals arc the mechanical
effects of their movements, direct and indirect.
As these movements are determined by conscious-
ness, it is evident that the building of the machines thus
effected is a process quite the opposite of the destruction
or wearing out which goes on at the same time. It is
also evident that these propositions apply to all forms of
life.
The possibility of this control of mind over the
528
THE OPEN COURT.
matter of which it is a property, offers a logical diffi-
cult)' to Dr. Montgomery. He finds it difficult to con-
ceive of a property controlling that of which it is a
property. But this is matter of words only. The
assertion that matter is the physicial basis of mind, states
the same thing in substance, but in a form of expression
which may serve to remove the objection raised by the
converse statement.
In this connection Dr. Clevenger's position is also
of fundamental importance.* It is: "I. Hunger is
chemical affinity, the desire inherent in atoms for one
another." Here we have the identification of conscious-
ness (mind) with energy, an error more frequent and
more plausible than the identification of mind with mat-
ter, but not less inexact. While energy is as necessary to
mind as is matter, they cannot be rationally confounded.
The reason why is simply, that energy does not feel,
remember and reason. In any rational classification, a
division of the properties of matter into those that feel,
remember and reason, and those that do not, is funda-
mental and necessary. Hunger is the conscious product
of the kinetic or unsatisfied state of some kind of energy,
but it is not that energy itself any more than violin music-
is a violin, or that a voice is a man. So with all phe-
nomena of consciousness. They may be produced by
some condition of energy, but they are not that energy
itself. But I am at once asked whether from a scientific
standpoint this is not a question of words? It is not, but
is of fundamental significance for two reasons. First,
the consciousness so produced does iny turn direct
energy, a fact admitted by Dr. Clevenger; second, Me
correlation between mind and matter is one of quantity
only, and not of quality. Who can say that the mental
decision to use the right hand causes a greater expendi-
ture of energy than the decision to use the left hand?
Who can say that a correct logical process costs more
energy than an incorrect one? Who can believe that
more energy is expended in liking than in disliking, or
in deciding to worship God rather than Baal? Which
consumes more energy, devotion to a false ideal or devo-
tion to a true ideal?
It may be doubted, by the way, whether the unsatis-
fied energy of hunger is chemical. So far as the sensa-
tion resides in the digestive system this may be true, but
the hunger that is expressed by unsatisfied tissues, is the
desire of a chemical substance for more of its own kind,
and this can hardly be called chemical without a strain
of the proper meaning of the word. It is probably
another species of energy.
Dr. Clevenger gives the conditions of consciousness
clearly and concisely in two of his paragraphs, but in
the inverted order of cause and effect.]; "The end of
* I 1 1 1 Open Court, 1*^7. No. 16, p. 43T.
t Ibid , 18S7, No. T4, p. 3So, p:ir. 10.
X Ibid., 1SS7, No. 14, p. ,}cq, p;ir. 5, i>.
consciousness is automatism, just as less friction is evi-
dent in the more complete adaptation of means to ends."
* # * u Consciousness is evident in existence, as any
other property of matter, and as resistance becomes less,
it disappears." Truly a remarkable species of " energy I"
As a general rule we find that energy has a history pre-
cisely the opposite. As resistance becomes less it does
not tend to disappear! but to continue; and it is a funda-
mental assumption of physical science that in a perfect
vacuum, and without friction, motion would be eternal.
But curiously enough, consciousness pursues a directly
opposite course; truly does Dr. Clevenger say, it in-
creases with resistance, and disappears with the disap-
pearance of opposition. Let us reverse the statement so
as to harmonize it with this evident fact. The essential
condition of consciousness is the absence of completed
organization / its necessary condition is one of ?netabol-
ism off matter ("(7 constant becoming" Heraclitus), and
when organization is effected and opposition or "fric-
tion'" caused by its movement of matter disappearsr
consciousness disappears also. This is the well-known
law of automatism, and it contains within itself the
demonstration that mind is not a species of energ\ , but
something of distinct and even opposite attributes.
We are now prepared to consider Dr. Montgomery's
logical objections to the proposition that mind can con-
trol matter. He justly regards this proposition as funda-
mental, and does me the honor to say that if it be granted
the system which I have presented must be adopted,,
since it is logically consistent. And here let me express
my cordial admiration for the honesty of the attitude of
Dr. Montgomery in not taking refuge in the clouds of
dust so easily raised by the idealist and by the hopeless
species of agnostic, who are practically one in their
opposition to the idea of a possible scientific theology.
The idealist necessarily is a "solipsist," and is condemned
to find within himself the universe and God; so he
needs no further information, and in view of that fact he
may, as Mr. F. E. Abbot expresses it, proceed comfort-
ably to " take a nap." Yet the possible existence of
some 1,000,000,000 other universes and Gods on this,
planet alone, might be expected at least to make his
dreams uneasy. So, also, the agnostic, who not only
does not know, but who believes in nothing but the
"unknowable." This is not the original Huxleyan
agnostic, who appears to have some hopes that the
progress of science has something in store for the
knowledge of mind in the large sense; but the gladi-
ator of the verbal arena, who takes a position which
he thinks impregnable, by denying the existence of
everything with which human knowledge concerns it-
self.
Since writing the above I have read the third part
of Dr. Montgomery's article in The Open Court,
"Are We Products of Mind?" and find that I was too
THE OPKN COURT.
529
fast in believing that he did not adopt the idealistic posi-
tion. It is useless to discuss any scientific question with
an idealist, for there lies at the basis of that position an
essential non sequitur. Because all that we know of
the universe is a complex of sensations, it does not follow
that there is no material universe! And Dr. Mont-
gomery evidently holds that there is an objective reality,
for with true idealistic inconsistency he remarks (p. 4S1),
"My biological knowledge, both physiological and
pathological, has rendered it indeed utterly impossible
for me to imagine any kind of consciousness detached
from vital organization! " And the doctor is evidently
a full believer in physiological materialism, as he is in
metaphysical idealism. To reconcile these radically
inconsistent positions is to the Doctor the "puzzle of
puzzles," and it is not to be wondered at that he finds
it so. I do not claim to have solved it, but I say that
the solution will be found in the extension of the doc-
trine of evolution, which constitutes a science newer
than either metaphysics or physiology, and more preg-
nant with light than either of them. In this connection
I quote the prophetic language of Mr. Francis Elling-
wood Abbot in his Scientific Theism (p. 200): "The
dualistic and teleological philosophy of Paley belongs
indeed to the past; the mechanical and monistic phi-
losophy of Spencer and Haeckel belongs to the present,
but is rapidly moving into the past; the teleological and
monistic philosophy of the scientific method and the
organic theory of evolution belongs to the future, and
will soon be here. But apparently neither Haeckel nor
Spencer"(and I may add, nor Montgomery) "ever dreamed
of that." The idealistic position gives the rein to
thought uncontrolled by fact, and is the parent of all
the crudities and absurdities of the prevalent theologies.
Idealism is also the stronghold of all negations, and of
permanent skepticism. It is the enemy of science, for
if the idealistic position be true, science is but an aimless
amusement. Materialistic psychology is on the other
hand the grave of human hope, since if its positions be
true, the past, present and future of mind is wrapped up
in organized protoplasm, and it is not worth while to
inquire further. A brace of bad masters of the human
mind, which evolution will one day reduce to the posi-
tion of good servants.
To the entire failure to understand my position and
that of the "teleological and monistic philosophy," must
I ascribe the closing paragraph of the article No. III.
above referred to. Dr. Montgomery ascribes to me the
following views, which I have especially warned my
readers from inferring, and which cannot be logically
inferred from my premises: "In this case the definite
conscious forecast, with a full knowledge of the organic
instrument to be used, of the medium in which it is to
be used, and of the aim to be accomplished, would have
to belong to the performing unspecialized will-power,
which would then evidently be an omniscient, transcend-
ent power using us organic individuals as mere passive
tools for its own aims." According to the doctrine of
evolution, the forecast extends no further than the les-
sons of experience, derived from primitive motion and
memory. The organic instrument does not exist until
it has been created by movements directed by the same
experience. The knowledge of the medium ami of the
aim arises like the forecast, and antecedently. Finally the
will-power is the intelligent response to stimulus, which
is the subjective ego of the action, so that it is not cor-
rect to say that it is a "transcendent power using us,"
for it is "us," of which our body is the executive
machine.
In this discussion I have but one object, and that is
to ascertain so far as may be, what is logically possible
under the true doctrine that "The mode of motion
(energy) of matter is * * * primitively conditioned
by consciousness, but ceases to be so conditioned when
it reaches a certain degree of automatism."* With " the
unthinkable dogma of [first] creation" (Haeckel), I have
nothing to do. So I cannot discuss the question of" the
first start to this evolutional process" to which Dr.
Montgomery refers, for I know nothing about it.
My information is, of course, confined to beings com-
posed of protoplasm, and although I infer the existence
of consciousness in variousphysical bases distinct from that
substance, in other parts of the universe, for reasons
already gnen, I do not know of the internal economy of
such beings, nor of the constitution of their molecule.
Whether they display greater or less chemical or organic
specialization than human beings I cannot tell ! Specula-
tion even as to these questions is without permanent value,
in the total absence of material facts. Dr. Montgomery
appears to have supposed that some of my remarks have
had reference to such existences, when in reality I have
had in view only the inhabitants of earth. The primi-
tive undeveloped will is, of course, that of the lowest
protoplasmic beings who display it, and it is by no means
to be inferred that the will of beings of other, even if
more primitive physical bases, is of the same grade. I have,
moreover, not expressed the opinion which Dr. Mont-
gomery ascribes to me, " that all forms of matter have
originated in the running down from the primitive mat-
ter, that all forms of consciousness have originated in the
process of running down from the primitive conscious-
ness," without having at the same time defined the
proposition and given its limitations in the clearest man-
ner. If we mean by the origin here referred to, the
origin of the organization of protoplasmic matter and its
consciousness, the process of evolution of living matter
and consciousness is distinctly upward and not down-
* The Open Court, 1SS7, No. 13, p. 35s, <•/ stq. Dr. Montgomery has also
misunderstood my reference to " energy as :t concept distinct from matter." I
did not accuse him of holding that opinion, although I hold it myself.
53°
THE OPEN COURT.
ward, as is well known. But that almost every stage
displays its examples of degenerate or exhausted prod-
ucts as well, is also well known to the evolutionist.
And if we suppose consciousness and its conditioned
control over matter to have been primitive, we can see
what a large part of the creation consists of such degen-
erate or automatic products. These will, nevertheless,
when compared, display an advancing scale of evolution
dependent on the successive stages at which they origi-
nated. But wherever consciousness persists, with mem-
ory, mental evolution is assured.
If, however, I am asked to discuss any "origin"
prior to protoplasmic life, I cannot go further than to
repeat the proposition, "8. The phylogeny of proto-
plasm requires a parent substance." In fact the objec-
tions of Dr. Montgomery's last article are entirely due
to his persistent assumption that I hold that the phe-
nomena of protoplasm are to be the measure and balance
for our estimate of the phenomena of other physical
bases. Moreover I cannot concern myself with the
problem of what the primitive mind may have had in
view in the working up of refractory types of matter
into conscious or living organisms. I have only to
deal with the physical and mental possibilities of the
case, and I am sure that further reflection will show
Dr. Montgomery that one may believe that mind has
some control of the movements of matter, and yet not
get into the cul dc sac which he depicts. And the
rcductio ad absurdum which he obtains is derived from
premises of his own imagining, and not of mine.
The conception of Deity as a conscious physical basis
is the only one which can be in accord with scientific
realism. It is subject conditioned by object, and object
conditioned by subject. The idea is anthropomorphic,*
but it is not unthinkable. The idealistic deity of some
monists is a generalization of the human mind, based on
the phenomena of nature which are selected according
to the preferences of the thinker. Since the old realism,
which made mental abstractions realities of the universe,
is dead and buried, such a deity is not a person. Now
an "impersonal deity" is as much a contradiction in
terms as "unconscious consciousness;" and those who
substitute their own thoughts for a supreme person, are
not theists, unless, indeed, such thinker considers himself
to be the deity.
" The uses of mediocrity are for everyday life, but
the uses of genius amidst a thousand mistakes which
mediocrity never commits, are to suggest and perpetuate
ideas which raise the standard of the mediocre to a nobler
level. There would be far fewer good men of sense if
there were no erring dreamers of genius." — Buliver.
* An excellent discussion of the nature of Deity is to be found in a lecture
of Professor Du Bois Raymond before the Association of Physicians and Nat-
uralists of Germany. See Popular Science Monthly, Mav, 1S73.
WHAT SHALL BE DONE WITH THE ANARCHISTS?
A LECTURE BEFORE THE SOCIETY FOR ETHICAL CULTURE OF CHICAGO, IN-
GRAND OPERA HOUSE, SUNDAY, OCTOBER 23.
BY WILLIAM M. SALTER*
There is no more sacred thought than that of justice. With
the sense of its august nature I do not wonder that men have
committed its execution to the supreme powers that rule the
world. We believe, however, that justice is the task of man ;
that the supreme powers have intrusted it to him ; that a portion
of invisible sanctity attaches to the office of the magistrate and
the judge. The divine institution in the world is not the Church,
but civil society ; hence no apology is needed when real religion
(which is nothing but the sense of justice) mingles in civil
affairs. If the churches that look for justice and judgment from
another power and in another world have no need to trouble
themselves about earthly courts of justice, not so with us. If we
do not continually speak, it is because we assume that justice is
being continually done, and our duty lies only in supporting and
encouraging those through whose hands it is administered and
executed. But our courts are not infallible, nor does a divinity
hedge and attend them in such a sense that their every verdict
must be submissively received. Occasions may arise — at rare
intervals, we must presume, at least in modern democratic
societies — when justice is not done. My friends, there are grave
doubts in many minds whether such an occasion has not recently
arisen in our midst. No man who honors the law and loves his
country can, without some trepidation publicly question the
righteousness of a judicial verdict, rendered after a long trial and
re-affirmed by a higher court. We must presume that as a rule
justice is done in our courts, else anarchy is near to being justi-
fied. It is with a full sense of my responsibility, and of the mis-
interpretation to which I render myself liable, that I speak on the
question I have announced for to-day: What shall be done with
the anarchists?
Let no one expect from me a sensational treatment of this
theme. I am not here to appeal to any one's passions or preju-
dices, or even sympathies. My thought is justice. Justice
requires before all things a cool and dispassionate mind. In such
a spirit, with such an aim at least, I have for days and weeks
studied this question. It is largely a question of facts, of dry
facts, if you will. The discussion of them may be tedious to
some. Very well, I am here before all to speak to those who
want to know what the facts really are.
I shall make my remarks under three heads: First, are the
seven men now in the county jail guilty of the crime with which
thev yvere charged ? Second, if not, of what are they guilty?
Third, what should be their punishment?
First, are thev guilty of the crime charged against them? My
hearers will certainly pardon my familiarity in the use of names
for the sake of clearness and brevity — on this occasion — a famil-
iarity which under other circumstances would be quite out of
place. The crime was that of the murder of the policeman
Mathi.is T. Degan. It is "conceded," to use the language of the
Supreme Court of the State, that no one of the seven men threw
the bomb with his own hands; they are charged with being
accessories, in the technical language of the law, before the fact.
An accessory of a crime is one who stands by and aids or abets
or assists, or who, if not present, has yet advised and encouraged
its perpetration, and by the law — and it is surely a just law — such
an accessory is as guilty as if he were the actual perpetrator.
What is the proof that the seven men were accessories in this case?
There is no doubt that a conspiracy was formed Monday
night — the night before the massacre — to resist the police in case
the striking workingmen of that excited time were attacked.
* My authorities in preparing this lecture were the respective Briefs ot
the prosecution and the defense, presented to the Illinois Supreme Court last
spring; also a special Brief by Leonard Swett.
THE OPEN COURT
m
u
There is no doubt tliat Engel and Fischer — two of the seven
men — were leaders in thai conspiracy; nor any doubt worth con-
sidering that Lingg — another — was acquainted with its designs.
Lingg, with others, was manufacturing bombs much of the next
day; he chided his assistants for working so slowly; he said they
were for use that night. There can be no reasonable doubt, tak-
ing into account that dynamite bombs were the trusted weapons
of warfare to this particular class of workingmen, and further the
special evidence produced at the trial, that these particular bombs
were made — thirty to fifty of them were made — to serve the
purposes of the Monday night conspiracy. Plans were also
made Monday night for the Haymarket meeting the following
night. There is no evidence that a conflict was specially expected
at the Haymarket. That contingency was in mind, but the plan
was simply that the conspirators should come to the assistance of
workingmen, whenever they should be interfered with. That
(Monday) afternoon several workingmen were reported to have
been killed by the police near McCormick's factory ; a circular
calling on workingmen in passionate terms to arm themselves
and avenge the death of their brothers was distributed at the
Monday night meeting and doubtless tended to heighten the
angry feelings of those present; but there is no evidence that an
offensive attack on the police was planned for — the evidence is
simply that the conspirators were to be ready to resist any attack
of the police. The Haymarket meeting took place as planned for
on the following night. Its purpose was to denounce the police
for shooting down workingmen the day before. A handbill had
been widely circulated (written by Fischer) calling on working-
men to arm themselves and appear in full force. There can be
little doubt that had the policemen appeared in the early part of
the evening and attempted to disperse the meeting, there would
have been a slaughter in their ranks far more fearful than that
which actually took place later — fearful and ghastly as that was.
But the meeting, according to the testimony of a Tribune reporter,
who was there all the time, was a peaceable and quiet one for an
outdoor meeting. The Mayor was present so as to personally
disperse it in case it assumed a dangerous tendency, but left it late
in the evening, stepping into the neighboring police station on his
way home to say to Captain Bonfield that nothing had occurred
or looked likely to occur that required interference, to which
Bonfield replied that he had reached the same conclusion from
reports already brought fo him. But for the violent harangue
of Fielden, who spoke after the Mayor had gone, the police would
probably never have descended on the scene, and the bomb
would not have been thrown. And by that time the leaders of the
conspiracy had left the meeting, the gathering had dwindled to a
third or a quarter of its original size, a threatening cloud had
caused a motion to be made to adjourn to an adjacent hall — and if
Fielden had allowed himself to be interrupted in this way, it is
likely that the meeting would have closed without any incident
whatever. As it was, Fielden protested in answer to the summons
of the police to disperse, "we are peaceable;" but to no purpose,
as in a trice the infernal missile went flying through the air.
Who were the accessories to this crime? For the thrower of
the bomb is unknown. There can be no doubt considering all the
evidence, that the bomb was one of those made by Lingg, and
that, according to his own statement, it was made for service
("fodder," as he expressed it) against the capitalist and police. He
may not have known it was to be used at the Haymarket; but
he made it for service, immediate service, he made it in further-
ance of the purposes of the conspiracy which met Monday night.
If any one is guilty as an accessory, plainly he is. Fischer was
drinking beer in a neighboring saloon when the bomb was thrown
and Engel was regaling himself in the same way at home. Both
had left the meeting, apparently anticipating no trouble. It is
possible that neither of them knows -who threw the bomb, that
both of them regretted the throwing as a foolish thing, when they
beard of it, though we have evidence only that one did ; but that
it was thrown by a member of the conspiracy of which they were
leaders, there can be scarcely any doubt, certainly no reasonable
doubt, and that as leaders they are responsible for the act of their
fellow-conspirator, done at their instigation, though not at just the
time and place which they might have chosen, there can be no rea-
sonble doubt either. Fischer had called on workingmen to come
to the Haymarket meeting armed — and " armed " meant in the
circle to which he belonged, as much armed with dynamite as
with revolvers — he had objected to another proposed place ot
meeting for Tuesday night, that it was "a mouse-trap," which
could mean nothing if violent resistance was not contemplated as
a possible contingency ; it was he who caused the word Ruhe to be
placed in the Arbeit er-Zcitnng Tuesday afternoon, which was a
signal to the conspirators, agreed upon at the Monday night
meeting, and which summoned them to assemble and arm them-
selves; and he was himself found the next day with a loaded
revolver and ten cartridges, a file, and a fuse or fulminating cap
on his person — and the use of the cap in connection with dyna-
mite bombs he confessed to have learned from reading Most's
book on the Science of War. The other leader, Engel, had given a
detailed description to workingmen on the North Side only a few
months previous as to how bombs were made and recommended
to all those who could not buy revolvers to buy dynamite; in his
speech in court, he allowed that he had said in workingmen's
meetings that if every workingman had a bomb in his pocket,
there would soon be an end of capitalistic rule; and he it was who
proposed the plan to the Monday night meeting of throwing
bombs into the police-stations and shooting down the policemen
as they came out, so as to prevent their going to wherever the
conflict might be between other policemen and strikers, which was
contemplated as a practical certainty in the near future and to
meet which the conspiracy was formed. This plan was not car-
ried into effect, probably owing to the fact that the police inter-
fered with the Haymarket meeting so late at night and after all
apprehension of trouble had gone from the minds of the conspira-
tors, and, probably too, because after all the conspiracy was a
half-and-half affair. But the conflict that was to precipitate all this
terrible tumult and bloodshed did take place; and there can be
scarcely a doubt that it took place owing to the incitement and
instigation of the two leaders I have named. Engel and
Fischer and Lingg are beyond a reasonable doubt, accessories to
the Haymarket crime. It is perfect folly to urge that the police
had no right to disperse the Haymarket meeting; even if it had no
right, no one in the crowd had a right to respond with the mur-
derous weapon, so long as no violence was used against the crowd
— the remedy for the offenses of the civil authorities as for other
offenses lies in the courts. Further, it is quite evident that the
class of people to whom the conspirators belonged regard almost
any hindrance to their actions by the authorities as an invasion of
their rights; even if striking workingmen are employing violence
against those who take their places, they allow no right of the
police to step in and restrain their violence and preserve peace —
that they call, forsooth, taking the side of the employer against
the strikers, a most arrant bit of nonsense ! The rage that inspired
the notorious "Revenge" circular to which I have referred was
all excited because the police interfered to protect peaceable, inof-
fensive workingmen who had taken the place of strikers at McCor-
mick's factory against a lot of ruffians who attacked them with
bricks and stones and sticks; interfered and in the m£lee fired at
some; such rage I call arrant humbuggery and the now notorious
circular was nothing but blatant bombast and was itself a con-
fession of sympathy with crime.
I have spoken of three of the seven condemned men. What
shall be said of the remainder? Clear and positive evidence of
532
THB OPEN COURT.
connection with the Monday night conspiracy, to my mind, here
entirely fails. There is no claim that any of them — Spies,
Schwab, Parsons or Fielden — were at the Monday night meeting,
nor at a meeting on the previous day when the conspiracy was
first hatched. Spies wrote the "Revenge" circular which was
read at the Monday night meeting, but there is no claim that it
was read with his knowledge. Spies wrote the word Rulie for the
printers of the Arbeiter Zeitung, but there is no evidence that he
knew its special import, and when he learned it he told his adver-
tising agent to go and tell the armed men that the word was put
in by mistake. Spies w-as invited Tuesday morning by Fischer to
speak at the Haymarket meeting, but noticing that the hand-bill
calling for the meeting contained the words " Workingmen, arm
yourselves and appear in full force," he said to Fischer that those
words " must be struck out or he would not attend the meeting
or speak there." Spies spoke at the Haymarket meeting, but
Mayor Harrison and the Tribune reporter heard him and they
made the testimony that I have already given. Two witnesses
were produced against Spies, whose testimony, if it were credi-
ble, would convict him, beyond a peradventure, of a direct com-
plicity in the plot — Thompson and Gilmer. But of Thompson's
testimoy, the Supreme Court says there is much that tends to
confirm him and much that tends to contradict him; and though
on the whole the court is inclined to credit his testimony, I see
not how any unprejudiced person could say that it convicts Spies
beyond all reasonable doubt. Gilmer is proved to have been a
lying person by his first statement as a witness; he is contradicted
by fifteen witnesses and is unsupported by any witness in the
record, and though the Supreme Court is again inclined to give
credence, it admits that the evidence as to his trustworthiness is
"very conflicting" and refuses "to pass any opinion upon it,"
saying in so many words that " there is evidence enough in the
record to sustain the finding of the jury independently of the
testimony given by Thompson and Gilmer." (Of other evidence,
I may say by the way, there is none implicating Spies directly
in the throwing of the bomb, besides what I have already men-
tioned; the entirely different sort of evidence against Spies, on
which the court mainly relies, I shall speak of later). Of Schwab,
Spies's assistant on the Arbeiter-Zeitung, there is no evidence
whatever of his connection with the plot save that afforded by the
doubtful testimony of Thompson, to which I have just alluded.
Schwab was present at the Haymarket for only a short .time early
in the evening and went oft" to address a workingmen's meeting
at Deering's factory on the North Side. Parsons was in Cincin-
nati when the conspiracy was formed, he only returned to
Chicago on Tuesday morning; he called a meeting, and attended
it that evening, of what was known as the "American Group,"
at the Arbeiter-Zeitung office, and at the time of going to it, did
not know that any meeting was to be held at the Haymarket at
all. During the session of the American Group, however, which
discussed the organization of the sewing women of Chicago with
reference to the eight-hour movement, the advertising agent of
the Arbeiter-Zeitung called and said that speakers were wanted at
the Haymarket meeting. When the group adjourned, about nine
o'clock, he with almost all the others present — fifteen were there
- -went over to the Haymarket, and he took his wife and children
with him. Mayor Harrison heard Parsons' speech nearly to the
close, and testified as I have above explained. He doubtless heard
some one cry out when Parsons mentioned Jay Gould, "Hang
him ! " and Parsons reply, " No, that it was not a conflict between
individuals, but for a change of system;" and he probably heard
Parsons' exclamation, on which so much stress has been laid,
"To arms! To arms!" — though neither he nor the police took
alarm at this utterance, and it is almost incredible that Parsons
should have brought his wife and children to the meeting, if he
had expected bombs were to be thrown there. Fielden's speech
brought out the police; it contained violent and inflamatory
appeals; the police were surely justified in putting an end to such
a speech and dispersing the crowd; but there is no evidence that
Fielden expected violence that night, or planned for it, or had any
knowledge of the Monday night conspiracy; he had been going
about his business during the day, hauling stones to one of the
parks, and had an appointment to speak elsewhere that night and
would never have been at the Haymarket meeting, had he not
been at the meeting of the American Group I have referred to
early in the evening, and been urged there to go over to the Hay-
market. Certain policemen testify that Fielden made threats as
they approached, and fired shots after the bomb was thrown ; but
Capt. Bonfield and Capt. Ward, who were ahead of their com-
panies and nearer to Fielden than those who testified, did not hear
the threats, nor did several reporters who were very near Fielden ;
further, seven witnesses who were immediately about Fielden and
watching him, saw no movement indicating shooting, and Fielden
swears he had no revolver and never carried one in his life. It is
quite possible that some one made the threats which the policemen
heard, namely, " Here come the bloodhounds of the police! Men,
do your duty and I will do mine! " It would be natural that the
bomb thrower should say that himself. And it is significant,
when one scans the testimonies of the seven policemen, that only
one says distinctly it was Fielden, that another says, some one
looking like Fielden, that three others say " some one" or " some-
body," that still another says he heard the remark, but does not
know who made it, and as matter of fact he was at the time on
the Randolph street horse car tracks, one hundred feet away.
And as to the shooting, Fielden says that the policemen who
testified against him in the trial, made no mention of the fact at
the coroner's inquest held the next day after the massacre, though
he was present at that time and the facts must have been fresh in
their minds. Fielden offered to swear to this, but the court
excluded his offer as it did so many other testimonies that would
have tended to clear up matters in favor of the accused men.
As the conclusion of this part of my subject, I say that the
evidence for the guilt of Spies, Schwab, Parsons and Fielden is
not such as to convince any fair-minded, unprejudiced man
beyond reasonable doubt. It would not be enough if there were
a balance of probability against them; not only must we not — to
quote memorable words used in this trial — guess away the lives
and liberties of our citizens, but the guilt of accused persons
must be established beyond all reasonable doubt. The evidence I
have already considered against these four is not only insufficient,
it positively breaks down when submitted — I will not say to close
and carefully, but simply — to fairly intelligent and honest scrutiny.
If one wants to believe it, one can of course find reasons for doing
so; but if one wants simply the truth, the truth entirely irrespect-
ive of what one wishes to believe, and would like to see estab-
lished, it is scarcely conceivable to me how he should do so.
Let me not be misunderstood. I do not say because the four
men I have mentioned are not guilty, they are therefore guiltless
of any connection whatever with the Haymarket crime. They are
simply not guilty of the crime ■with -which they were charged. They
were not accessories, in any hitherto recognized sense of that term,
to the murder of Degan. But I do not absolve them of all connec-
tion with that crime, — and now I wish to point out what that con-
nection was ; and so I take up my second question, //' not guilty
of the crime with which they were charged, of what are they guilty ?
For clearness' sake I will make my answer at the outset.
They are guilty of sedition, of stirring up insurrection; they were
all members of a criminal conspiracy against the State. There is
no blinking of this fact. While holding that Spies, Schwab,
Parsons and Fielden are not guilty of this particular crime, I
cannot refuse to admit that they were preparing for an infinitely
greater crime — greater, that is, in amount, not in essence. They
THE OPEN COURT.
533
had no less an aim than to put down in this country all laws and
all force that protect what is ordinarily known as private property.
It was not so much the revolution of the State as its abolition
that they looked forward to, for there should be nothing like what
we call the State in the future. This is the meaning of their
doctrine, anarchy — no State, and why they call themselves
anarchists. These men not only agitated such ideas; they urged
workingmen to organize on the basis of them. Workingmen did
organize — organized in other cities besides Chicago, and these
men were the leaders of the organization here. The organiza-
tions were called " groups," and inside each group, or most of
them, there were armed sections — men who met at regular or
irregular intervals and trained in the use of arms; and the arms
included rifles and dynamite bombs. The forty to eighty men
who formed the Monday night conspiracy were members of these
armed sections. It must be admitted that the Monday night
conspiracy was the legitimate outcome of the more general con-
spiracy, which was known to the public as the International
Arbeiter (or Workingmen's) Association. The leaders of whom I
am now speaking urged men to join these armed sections and
themselves belonged to them, and the purpose of the sections
was nothing else than to prepare for such uprisings as the Mon-
day night conspiracy actually planned for. More than a year
before the fatal Tuesday, Spies explained in a private interview
the purposes of the International Association : that the final aim
was the re-organization of society on a more equitable basis, so
that the laboring man might have a fairer share of the prod-
ucts of his labor; that it was not hoped to accomplish this by
legislation or the ballot-box; that force and arms were the only
way; that there were armed forces in all the commercial centers
of the country, and a sufficient number in Chicago — about 3,000 —
to take the city; that they had superior means of warfare; that
once in possession of the city they could keep in possession by
the accession to their ranks of laboring men; that a time when
many men were out of employment, by reason of strikes and lock-
outs would be taken; that such a time might come when work-
ingmen attempted to introduce the eight- hour system; that blood-
shed might be involved, as frequently in the case of revolutions;
that those who engaged in the uprising would be liable to punish-
ment if they failed, but if successful it would be a revolution, and
they would have to take their chances.
The platform of the International Association, published time
and again in the local organ, the Arbeiter Zcitung, contains the
statement that as in former times no privileged class ever relin-
quished its tyranny, no more can we take it for granted that the
capitalists of the present day will forego their privileges and their
authority without compulsion; that efforts through legislation are
useless since the property-owning class control legislation; that
only one remedy is left — force; that the way which workingmen
must take is agitation with a view to organization, organization
with a view to rebellion. This is all treasonable to the State on
the face of it. It is repugnant to quote the words of these four
men as to the means by which they hoped to attain their ends.
But in justice it must be done. All are equally guilty in this
regard. A successful movement must be a revolutionary one,
once said Spies; don't let us forget the more forcible argument of
all — the gun and dynamite. Spies wrote in his paper, the very day
of the Haymarket massacre, with reference to the McCormick riot,
that if the workingmen had been provided with weapons and one
single dynamite bomb, not one of the murderous police would
have escaped his well-merited fate. Schwab but a week before
had said: "For every workingman who has died through
the pistol of a deputy sheriff, let ten of the executioners fall !
Arm yourselves! " Parsons had said a year before, " Wo to the
police or the militia whom they send against us! " and again, " If
we would achieve our liberation from economic bondage, every
man must lay by a part of his wages and buv a revolver, a rifle,
and learn how to make and use dynamite." He glorified the use
of dynamite in a fantastic and crazy manner in his final speech to
the court. Fielden admitted a few months before, that they had
lots of explosives and dynamite in their possession, and would
not hesitate to use them when the proper time came. One can
scarcely repeat or hear such words without shuddering and without
an outburst of indignation against those who had the barbarity to
first use them.
Do I hear some one say, ah, but you are giving away your case?
Friends, 1 have no case. I am not here to make a plea on one side
or the other, tor the anarchists any more than for the State. I
am here as coolly and quietly as I may to ask, What are the facts
and what is justice? The things that I have just stated are the
facts against the four men ; the things I stated at the outset were
the facts in their favor. Are the two sets of facts, so different on
the face, in harmony? I believe they are. I cannot discover a
thing against these four men that goes beyond seditious and
treasonable language, and membership, or rather, leadership in a
diabolical conspiracy against the present order of society. This
is crime enough. It is crime enough to outlaw them or banish
them or — if you will — imprison them for life, or even han» them
though I should not will the like. But it is not the crime with
which they were charged; it is not the crime of being accessories
to the murder of Degan. There is this kernel of truth in
the claim of anarchistic sympathizers, that the anarchists were
tried for murder and are to 'be hanged for anarchy. They were
charged with complicity in a definite act; four of them were vir-
tually condemned because they were leaders in a workingmens'
association in the bosom of which and in harmony with the gen-
eral purposes of which the plot to accomplish that act was formed.
It is a matter of the record that the conspiracy which the prose-
cution sought to establish at the outset was that formed at the
Monday night meeting, and that only when the complicity in the
same of Spies, Schwab, Parsons and Fielden could not be so con-
vincingly made out as was desired, did the prosecution take advan-
tage of certain rulings of the court and endeavor to show — and
there was no trouble in showing it — that these four men were lead-
ers in a plan for revolutionizing society, and hence were respon-
sible for the death of Degan, which occurred as a result and in fur-
therance of that plan. The prosecuting attorney refused to indict
these men with treason; and yet they were virtually condemned
for being partners in a treasonable conspiracy. I sav virtually;
but not in form, for the prosecution and the Supreme Court of
the State in reviewing the case, think it necessary in form to con-
nect all seven men alike with the Monday night conspiracy. All
the doubtful evidence to that effect to which I have referred in
the first part of my address, and which can scarcely be credited at
all by a serious and dispassionate man, is vamped up — if I may
be pardoned the expression — both by the prosecution and the
Supreme Court, as more or less valid proof against the condemned
men. It is doubtful if they would dareto urge or confirm a verdict
without that prop; and yet that prop, in the case of four men, is
rotten. It is both sound ethicsand sound law that accused persons
should know for what they are to be tried ; and that men ought
not to be charged with one crime and then punished for another.
I grant the condemned men were not tried for anarchy, for
their opinions merely; they were tried for treasonable conspiracy.
I grant the Monday night conspiracy was an outcome of the more
general conspiracy, a legitimate outcome; still the two were differ-
ent things and all of those who entered into the first did not enter
the second — and yet those who did not enter are treated as if
they were participants in it; they are to be hanged for something
they never did, nor expected nor plotted — neither aided nor abet-
ted, neither advised nor encouraged, to use all the technical terms
of the law. An incident in the history of our State Legislature
534
THE OPEN COURT.
last winter throws light upon this matter. A bill was intro-
duced to define, as oneof our city papers said, '■'■■with greater clearness
and precision," the crime of unlawful conspiracy. It provided
that any person who should by speaking or writing incite local
revolution or the overthrow or destruction of the existing order of
societv, should be deemed guilty of conspiracy, and if (and this is
the significant part) as a result of such speeches or writings, human
life is taken or person or property is injured, the person so speak-
ing and writing shall be deemed guilty of having conspired with
the person who actually committed the act and be treated as a
principal in the perpetration of the crime.* No other relation
than that of result between the act and the words or writings is
necessary, entirely irrespective of whether that result was intended
or anywise expected or not. Under this statute — which was.
passed, I believe — the seven anarchists would be guilty of the
murder of Degan; any number of other anarchists would be
equally guilty; in a crime of this sort, indeed, it would be hard to
limit the guilt. But this law was not in existence when the
murder of Degan took place. It w'as without doubt contrived
to meet such cases in the future. The fact that it was made
a law is proof that no legal provision parallel to it existed
before. Under the laws of the State then existing, I venture
to say that four out of the seven men could not have been
sentenced as they were by a dispassionate jury and judge. I am
loath to make such a statement as that. I trust I am not without
due respect for those who are my betters in wisdom and virtue-
I honor those who are in authority, because they are in authority.
I would not say a word to make others think lightly of them.
And yet, though I love my country and its guardians and gov-
ernors, I love justice more; I could not be an ethical teacher and
stand on this platform to-day did I not recognize a higher law
than that which may be laid down by magistrates and courts.
Under all ordinary circumstances I believe our laws and our judi-
cial decisions are conceived in justice; but who shall say that
gusts of passion may not sometimes sweep legislators and juries
and judges away? Who shall say that even the majority may
not go wrong and public opinion itself cease to be the voice of the
invisible right? Yet, if we cannot say this, how do we know but
what jury and judge and public opinion may possibly have gone
wrong in this special instance? For my own part I should be a
coward if I did not speak as I do to-day, for I should know that a
public wrong was about to be committed and I did not dare
to protest against it. Let me be misjudged of men, if need be,
but let me stand clear before my own conscience.
A few words in closing on my last point. What should be
I he punishment of these men? As to this matter I speak with
the least assurance. I am sure only of two things — that Spies,
Schwab, Parsons and Fielden should not be punished as equally
guilty with Engel and Fischer and Lingg, and that they deserve
to be punished for all that. The appeal of Parsons for liberty or
death is pure bathos, and is in keeping with the theatrical charac-
ter of the man. He is responsible, every one of the four men in
whose behalf I have made exceptions, is responsible, gravely
responsible, for that ghastly massacre of the fourth of May.
They were not exercising their inalienable right of free speech
when they counseled the use of dynamite against the offi-
cials of the State, no matter how general was their language;
they should have been hindered from such treasonous speech long
ago; their international groups should not have been allowed in
the past, their treasonous newspaper organ should not have been
allowed; their mouths of every description should have been
literally shut, and similar mouths should be shut in the future.
But it is folly, it is almost a breach of good faith, for the authorities
to hang men now for utterances and doings that were known
* I follow here Leonard Swett's Brief (p. 66). Mr. Swett quotes from the
Chicago Tribune.
and tolerated for months and years in the past. The Arbeiter
Zeitung publication company was even incorporated by the State;
why was the charter not revoked, if in the judgment of the State
its treasonable utterances were crimes? It should have been, but
by the very allowing of a thing, the State may give it a certain
sanction. Let the men be imprisoned for a term of years, — to
hang them would be a public crime; it would go down to history
as such, I haven't the shadow of a doubt.
As to the three men who are beyond all reasonable doubt
guilty of complicity in the Haymarket crime, it is more difficult
to speak. Crimes against the State are in one sense the most
deadly crimes, and in another sense they are the crimes to be con-
sidered with the greatest magnanimity. Even these three men
were not murderers in the common sense of that word; they
were men who had earned an honest living, who had not even
been suspected of the smallest crime before. A political crime
belongs to a totally different category from ordinary crime.
There was a cry to hang Jeff Davis after the war; he was
surely a monstrous political criminal. But we should not now
regard it as a particularly noble thing if he had been hanged,
once the war was over — to say nothing of the ministers of
his cabinet and generals of his army. The policemen are
justified in shooting down all those who offer violent resist-
ance to their authority, when legitimately exercised; but
when the melee is over it may be wise and may be unwise to
execute the leaders of the revolt. I do not take up the question
of capital punishment; I think it is the poorest time in many
years to discuss that question. To admit the guilt of all these
men in its extremest form and yet argue for the commutation of
their sentence on the ground of the general wickedness of capital
punishment seems to me a piece of sentimentalism. If these
men, any or all, deserve the extremest penalty of the law, I for
one would say, let justice have its way. A common murderer, I
do not hesitate to say, deserves hanging. But it is because these
three men are not common murderers that I question whether
they deserve that fate. Their offense is against the State and the
officers of the State. The question is, is not the State big
enough, strong enough to be able to afford to be magnanimous,
and to say to them: "Your mouths shall be closed, and you
shall never be free to plot again against the public peace, but the
boon of life shall not be taken from you." It is a saying from
the lips of so eminent a statesman as Burke, that magnanimity is
not seldom the truest wisdom, and that a great State and little
minds go ill together. The words have a special interest to us,
for they were uttered with reference to the American colonies.
Anarchy is a disease. You cannot stamp it out — though all
these men were hanged and one hundred more besides, aye, and
every man or woman that has belonged to the different groups
in this city, you would not rid the body politic of its presence;
like a ghastly cancer, it would appear again in time. It has
to be cured. Shut it up, yes; but cure at the same time.
If you do not, you but drive it below the surface of society,
and in time it will rumble and shake and burst forth
with volcanic force and reduce our State, our very civil-
ization to ruins. May such a day' never come! I believe
it never will come. But if it should, you and I, our judges
and our juries and our legislators, our churches and our wealthy
classes, and all who might do justice and yet do not, will be
responsible. O, my friends, my countrymen, what a trust have
we! Our fathers who laid the foundations of our government in
freedom never dreamed that in the very name of freedom anarchy
would raise its horrid head and dare to assail it. Let us remem-
»
ber their toils and their courage and take heart. Let us pledge to
our country a new devotion. Let us resolve in the spirit of the
immortal Lincoln — who belongs more particulary to this com-
monwealth and whose statue now crowns the entrance to one ot
THE OPEN COURT.
535
our parks -that this government of the people, by the people, for
the people, shall not perish from the earth.
" Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of State!
Sail on, O Union, strong and great!
Humanity with all its fears,
With all the hopes of future years,
Is hanging breathless on thy fate!
We know what Master laid thy keel,
What workmen wrought thy ribs of steel,
Who made each mast and sail and rope,
What anvils rang, what hammers beat,
In what a forge and what a heat
Were shaped the anchors of thy hope!
Fear not each sudden sound and shock,
' Tis of the wave and not the rock ;
'Tis but the flapping of the sail,
And not a rent made by the gale!
In spite of rock and tempest's roar,
In spite of false lights on the shore,
Sail on, nor fear to trust the sea !
Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee,
Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears,
Our faith triumphant o'er our fears,
Are all with thee — are all with thee!"
CORRESPONDENCE.
A LETTER FROM LONDON.
To the Editors: London, August 31, 18S7.
I have been quite oblivious during the past weeks of the prom-
ise I made, in part at least, before leaving America, that I would
give for The Open Court something of my impressions and
experiences in this old world, yet to me new world, of travel and
temporary sojourn. The current of life has flowed swiftly with
us since we came to these shores; in such rapid succession have
the objects thrust themselves upon us, that I have felt almost
unqualified to state an impression, a conviction, or an idea, suffi-
ciently matured or worthy to deserve to be laid before the eye of
anybody. And yet in some ways the new is ever old, the things
that come under the eye, the old and familiar acquaintances
though in new faces, and only illustrating and confirming the per-
ceptions and conclusions long ago deliberately reached, and inten-
sified and strengthened in the growing years. It is the same
world, the same men, much the same life, under modified features
and in differing climes.
I will not attempt to describe the feeling of one who for the
first time, though it may be late in life, visits the ancestral seats,
and looks upon lands which he had long heard of, read of, and
painted fondly in fancy's dream. It is like the experience of
love, I take it, which coming oftenest in youth, changes for its
subject, during these moments, the whole world, transfiguring all
of life, pouring the soft glow of a new affection upon every thing
the universe holds, glorifying, transforming all, but once known,
can never be repeated, can never come a second time in its full-
ness with any individual. It is a delight for any one to look for
the first time upon forefathers' land, to realize that here is the rock
whence he was hewn, here is the soil on which the rugged, brave
ancestors were grown, here with whatever differences that dis-
tinguish and mark national type in feature, accent, habitude, aie
our own near of kin, our own cousins, whom we are drawn to greet
and love. This feeling comes once, and I think though it may
be kept well alive as a steady, glowing flame, it cannot with any-
second, third or other visit, ever come in its first freshness and
power again.
Such delight, such thrill was mine when first I viewed the
chalk cliffs and the green hills of Old England, as I looked upon
the people, and heard the accents of the old familiar tongue — we
had been for a time upon the Continent before entering England
— ours, and yet in some ways not ours, differenced from our Ameri-
can speech by peculiarities palpable to the ear, yet difficult to
describe. Such also as I looked upon the garden-tilled lands and
luxuriant groves and forests of France, the varied glories of the
magnificent landscape, as I entered the towns and peered into the
faces of this vivacious, bright, mercurial people, and caught the
musical accents of their fluent speech; for both these lands — the
scenes in by -gone days of such internecine feuds and struggles of
two kindred peoples who, ' separated by a narrow frith,' had been
made enemies, when 'otherwise like kindred drops they might have
mingled into one' — weie on the paternal and maternal sides
respectively, ancestral lands to me.
I would like to speak — perhaps I may sometime — of the price-
less treasures of the Louvre, where I spent all the hours I could
command during our brief stay in Paris; of the Jardin des Plantes,
with its extensive collections in natural history, and particularly
comparative anatomy and anthropology, the largest, richest, most
instructive, that my eyes have ever beheld, all the races of men
on the face of the globe there represented and shown almost in
life before you, besides valuable remains in skulls or skeletons
and numerous finds in implements, etc., of various prehistoric
races; the wealth of the British Museum, with its library approach-
ing nearlv 1,500,000 of books, where the scholar can find the vol-
ume he wants upon any subject, provided it may be had anywhere
in the world, and can if his time will permit, revel in the study,
the enjoyment of unending riches of knowledge. Besides this the
British Museum possesses, as does the Louvre also, extensive col-
lections of antiquities, Greek, Roman, Etruscan, Assyrian, Egyp-
tian, etc. The collection of Egyptian antiquities in the Louvre
is pronounced the richest in Europe, nothing in the world to
rival it, save that in Boulaq, in Egypt. Here the student of the
religious history of mankind will find much that is instructive
and deeply suggestive, pouring important light upon questions
long debated, never yet fully answered, touching the early beliefs,
the tvpe and quality of the conceptions among the ancient races.
Surelv, the great French and English nations have not lived in
vain to have gathered from all parts of the earth such treasures,
and to hold them now open, free for the inspection, the study of
all, at the sole price of coming hither to see them. The mainte-
nance of these arrangements, keeping the galleries open for the
service of the public, is attended with considerable expense, this
borne in both instances by the respective governments. For ages
to come, we in America can have nothing comparable to these
riches.
It seems an unfortunate time for finding certain names in
science and letters, that one would most like to meet, at home. It
is the period of the vacation, and many are away. Huxley and
Tvndall are both in Switzerland for several weeks' sojourn. Pro-
fessor Max Miiller and Dr. E. B. Tylor, both resident at Oxford,
whom I had hoped to see and if possible to hear, are also absent.
The former, a lady friend of mine recently called upon. She found
him accessible and cordial. He expressed a friendly interest in
America, notes with all good wishes the advancement in thought
and knowledge steadily being made among us, and has contem-
plated visiting our country, as he has been repeatedly and pressingly
urged to do, but doubts now that he may. How many with glad
ears and rejoicing, hungering eyes would greet this renowned
scholar and eloquent, inspiring teacherl Might he but reconsider
his decision and consent to come. Dr. Tylor is a man of such pro-
found attainment and eminent service in the sphere of anthro-
pology, shedding light, unequaled elsewhere so far as I know, upon
the earlv condition and the slow, steady growth of mankind along
5.36
THE OPEN COURT.
the several planes of ascent, that I feel it a real deprivation finally
to have failed to see him.
The Parliament is still in session, and twice have I been
admitted to the gallery of the House of Commons, once also to
the House of Lords. The burning Irish question is there perpet-
ually present, and the proceedings were at times very animated,
almost stormy. Obviously the irrepressible conflict, witnessed in
one form or another through all history and not unfamiliar among
ourselves, was in this Chamber. On one side the representatives
of established usage, vested rights, accustomed to the exercise of
power and the exactions which power makes easy, and seeming
to belong without doubt or question to their class, tenacious, wary,
trained and strong, unwilling, as all such are, to surrender aught
of their ancient privilege ; and on the other hand those who are of
and those who stand for the oppressed classes, and here for the
multitudes of Irish tenants, who for years and generations have
been plucked and plundered by the relentless landlordism which
has ruled on that unhappy island, — the whole business now come
to such a pass that the Tory government must make some recog-
nition and devise some partial measure of relief.
Into the Irish question I cannot enter. It has its compli-
cations, is at present very mixed, and the Liberals are sharplv
divided and antagonized among themselves. Suffice it to sav, I
heard Gladstone in the House of Commons, and greatly enjoved,
though the speech was brief, this "old man eloquent," both for
the cause he was pleading, and for the clear cut argument, the
incisive force of his speech. Tyndall, in an article published
recently in the Times, pronounces him " a hoary rhetorician."
He seemed to me much more, quite other than that. I think he
represents the claim that has truth at bottom and will win.
England shall yet see it, and honor the swift perception and the
courage shown in this eve of life by her illustrious son.
Twice have I heard Rev. Stopford Brooke, who is now-
preaching in an independent Chapel, his own, I am told ; and once,
standing in a great crowd that filled all the aisles, have I heard
Archdeacon Farrar. Brooke, by his deep regard for conscience,
leaving the Episcopal Church when he could no longer believ-
ingly and sincerely read the liturgy and perform the observances,
I have always felt deserved to be held in high honor by all. The
fame of his eloquence too, placing him when he was in the
Church, as after Stanley the foremost of the English divines, was
widely known, and had reached us in America. I was therefore
greatly desirous to see, to hear him. The discourses were manly,
frank and practical, and had for the hearer deeplv important
translations out of the ancient into the modern. He seems eman-
cipated from much that belongs to the dogmatic theology, but I
was utterly unable to marry the fact of the apparent freedom of
the preacher as seen in his pulpit, with the long and very formal,
tedious, introductory service with the choir of surpliced boys,
the chants, readings, responses, etc., with frequent repetition of
phrases familiar enough in orthodox belief, not omitting the
genuflexions withal, — that came before he entered the pulpit. I
thought of what Rev. M. J. Savage a few years ago wrote of the
Unitarian denomination ; he spoke of it as bearing still certain
"rudiments " upon it, and I concluded that here also we have
some traces of a former stage of theological existence not yet cast
out by action of the perfect law of liberty. Canon Farrar on that
Sunday morning at St. Margaret's emphasized character^ and set
the injunction home in most forcible way upon his hearers, repre-
sentatives as he recognized, and standard-bearers of the fashiona-
ble, orthodox religion of our time, standing before society much
in the same position as did the scribes and Pharisees whom Jesus
so pointedly rebuked and condemned. It sounded queer to hear
such things in Westminster, but nowhere, perhaps, could they be
given more fittingly and usefully.
Quite lately our little party went over to the great tabernacle
to hear Spurgeon. The church is immense, has two tiers of
lleries reaching all round the room, and the seating capacity is
stated as 5,000. Nearly every seat was occupied ; I saw a few only
vacant in the topmost gallery. Many sat on steps in the aisles.
Spurgeon fills with his voice this large space, all can hear distinctly
and all appeared interested to the end. His subject was the
restoration of sight to the blind man, recorded in John. He
described the process minutely and quite dramatically, owned that
the method was " eccentric," but then it was Jesus' way, and there
was, there could be none comparable to that. " There is no per-
fume made of the rarest spices that can equal the saliva of this
divine master." " Only the Christ possessed the spittle. Is there
anything like it? A little clay mingled with spittle, when Christ
uses it, is adequate."
The presentation was very realistic, and the preacher made the
application then and there as you would readily know. Jesus was
present, walking up and down these aisles, seeking the blind, and
anxious to heal them.
"You have to believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and you shall
see."
" Go wash, not pray about it, not send your wife. Up with
you man, up with you. Waters of Siloam will not come to
you."
" Don't quarrel with your bread and butter. Good advice to
laborers. Don't quarrel with salvation."
Now and then some shrewd, dry remark or jet of quiet humor
interspersed in the discourse would produce a marked sensation,
flowing, rippling through the house, while his disparagement and
decrial of culture, his manifest dislike and aversion to the meth-
ods of careful study and thought, his evidently favorite gibe at the
" twenty genuflexions, and each one difficult" — strange conjunc-
tion of things so far foreign from each other, not to say opposite- -
obviously took well with the audience he was addressing. I sup-
pose the discourse as a whole was a good sample of the style we
know as the Moody-Sankey sort in America. It is to be said,
however, that the subject was well elaborated from his point of
view, there was a consecutive order, natural, clear and well
adapted to draw and to hold the hearer.
Spurgeon's appearance was that of an earnest man, and I
could not but feel as I was listening, that it is all the more tragic
that the preacher as well as the hearer, the performer as well as
his subjects, seems fully to believe in the wretched incantation
and solemn spell-working with which this business of religion has
been brought into unhallowed union. What must one think of
Christianitv or of Jesus, if what we heard and saw represents
them as they were 1,800 years ago?
That great audience of 4,000 people, perhaps considerably
more, were to all appearance from the plain and working classes,
generally doubtless unlettered, but earnest, reverent, desirous to
find something to rest upon, and readv to believe that here it was
to hand. What an opportunity I thought, for a man who had
light, wisdom, and speech from on high, had he been in that pul-
pit, to rouse, waken and inspire these latent, stirring, yet dim and
unopened sensibilities, to tell them what they had come there for,
and how, where they should find it. But the multitude as they
interpreted the errand that brought them, came to hear the Gos-
pel a la Spurgeon, and had there been the other and the higher
word waiting for them, this audience would not have been there.
I think it is Tyndall who says somewhere that the emotions
of man are older than his understanding, and that a sentiment of
such depth evidently as the religious, is not soon to pass away.
This last was testified to by what I saw in that tabernacle. The
profoundness and transcendent strength of this consciousness out
of which what we call religion grows, cannot be overestimated.
It must last as thought, as concrete expression as well, while the
human race endures. But plainly long ages must pass ere the
sentiment shall have been married and co-ordinated with intelli-
gence and the reverence of the mind, all the stirrings of emotion
THE OPEN COURT.
537
and the ejaculations, the longings of worship, shall fasten and
rest purely on the objects of reason.
Charles D. B. Mills.
THE WORD SPECIES.
To the Editors: Fond du Lac, Wisconsin.
With all due deference to Prof. Max Miiller, I cannot see
wherein we would gain were the word species expunged from our
language. Eleven years ago Huxley wrote a very exhaustive
article on this same subject, entitled, "What Are Species?" and,
with that clearness which makes those who are not professed
scientists so largely his debtors, explains therein the difference
between the terms "genus" and "species," he says:
"The individual object alone exists in nature; but, when indi-
vidual objects are compared, it is found that many agree in all
those characters which, for the particular purpose of the classifier,
are regarded as important, while they differ only in those which
are unimportant; and those which thus agree constitute a species,
the definition of which is a statement of the common characters
of the individuals which compose the species.
"Again, when the species thus established are compared, cer-
tain of them are found to agree with one another and to differ
from all the rest in some one or more peculiarities. They thus
form a group which, logically, is merely a species of a higher
order, while technically it is termed a 'genus.' And, by a con-
tinuation of the same process, genera are grouped into families,
families into orders, and so on. Each of the groups thus named
is in a logical sense a genus, of which the next lower groups con-
stitute the species."
The writer then goes on to quote from Linnaeus and Cuvier,
and finally shows how the doctrine of evolution confirms us in
the use of the word species as distinct from "genus," since that
doctrine proves that "selective breeding is competent to convert
permanent races" — genus, therefore — "into physiologically dis-
tinct species."
What Prof. Max Miiller means by saying that " Darwin is
evidently under the sway of the old definition that all species
were produced by special acts of creation " I am at a loss to under-
stand. On this point the author of the Origin of Species is most
clear. He says: " I believe that animals have descended from at
most only four or five progenitors." {Origin of Species, first edi-
tion, p. 484.)
And again : " I view all beings, not as special creations, but as
the lineal descendants of some few beings which lived long before
the first bed of the Silurian system was deposited." (Origin of
Species, pp. 4SS, 489.)
Huxley goes even further and bows to Haeckel's view of the
case, tracing all life to its protoplasmic root, " sodden in the mud
of the seas which existed before the oldest of the fossiliferous
rocks were deposited."
To men holding these views the term " species " is a necessity,
and I can only attribute Prof. Max Miiller's objection to the term
to his German love for compound words. Why "class" and
" sub-class," when one word embraces the whole? All can appre-
ciate the causes which led scientists to adopt the term survival of
the fittest, for natural selection, since, as Dr. Draper has pointed
out, "Nature never selects. Nature simply obeys laws;" but the
objection to the term species seems to me as ill-founded as the
objections to the term biology. The objectors in this case had
the good grace to suggest another name: " zootocology ; " but
Prof. Max Miiller offers no term which shall replace the word so
long in use, and which has been employed by those in authority
ever since the dawn of modern biology a hundred years ago. It
seems to me that any changes as to terms already accepted are
undesirable and extremely puzzling to the .many who have to
work out their own educational salvation.
I do not wish to be as dogmatic as " Humpty-Dumpty " in
Alice in Wonderland, who says: "When I make use of a word It
means just what I choose it to mean;" but it does seem reason-
able to adhere to a word which has been so long accepted as being
upon the whole comprehensive.
I remain, dear sir, yours truly,
Elissa M. Moore.
WORDS AND THOUGHTS.
To the Editors :
The accidental relations of words and thoughts are sometimes
very curious. Thus an office-boy who has been copying with a
type-writer, has unconsciously amended the line in which Laertes
announces that his sister is to be " a ministering angel," so as to
make it read " miniature angel," which would be exactly Ophelia's
size. He has also rewritten a line in " Timon of Athens " thus :
" Religious canons, civil laws are crust."
The last word in standard editions is "cruel;" but it would
be in harmony with the most advanced ideas of sociology to say
that law and religion are the crust which gives form to the social
loaf. The problem of ages has been how to develop ourselves
out of mere crude dough, without getting our crust baked too
hard. Only two hundred years ago, the loaf was pretty much all
crust. F.
Concord, Mass., Oct. 18, 1SS7.
I attended the Middlesex County Convention of Woman
Suffragists in the Concord Town Hall yesterday. There was a
large attendance of delegates, mostly ladies from adjoining towns.
Among the speakers in the afternoon were Mrs. Lucy Stone,
Mrs. Walton, Miss Cora Scott Pond, Revs. J. S. Bush and F. W.
Holland. I took the opportunity of bringing what has been
already sent you as a new argument. In the evening a crowded
audience listened with delight to Mrs. Livermore and Colonel
Higginson. A very gratifying desire was shown by the people
of Concord generally to make the day pleasant for visitors. My
own conviction is that there is more life and hope in the move-
ment than I have realized, as well as more justice. The argu-
ments of Colonel Higginson and Mrs. Walton were particularly
strong as showing how much women need to have representatives
of their own. F. M. H.
BOOK REVIEWS.
A Memoir of Ralph Waldo Emerson. By James Elliot
Cabot. Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin & Co.,
1SS7; two volumes, pp. 809. Price, $3.50.
Mr. Cabot in these volumes has well fulfilled the trust reposed
in him by Emerson and family as the one man among his many
life-long friends best fitted to become his literary executor and
biographer. Although in the long life of one so well and widely
known as Emerson there could be little to relate that was abso-
lutely new in his life history with which to surprise and startle
the public (as in the case of the Carlyle memoirs), yet our
glimpses of the Concord sage had hitherto been of a fragmentary
sort — side views or studies of his character from certain points of
view — but in this work we have an orderly presentation of his
life in its entirety. Mr. Cabot shows us not only the preacher,
poet and prophet, but the schoolboy, student, son, brother, lover,
husband, father and friend — the whole man Emerson — and a very
noble and satisfactory portrait it is; the portait of an earnest,
sincere, generous, modest philosopher, loyal to his convictions,
charitable in his judgments, nobly wise in thought and expres-
sion, calmly self-reliant yet as ready to perceive weaknesses in
his own nature as in that of others, and far more ready to confess
them. He was not ever a consciously great man. In a letter
written to Rev. Henry Ware, in 1S3S, he touches the key-note to
his character thus: " It strikes me very oddly that good and wise
53«
THE OPEN COURT
men at Cambridge and Boston should think of raising me into an
object of criticism. I have always been, from my very incapacity
of methodical writing, 'a chartered libertine,' free to worship
and free to rail ; lucky when I could make myself understood, but
never esteemed near enough to the institutions and mind of
society to deserve the notice of the masters of literature and
religion. I have appreciated fully the advantage of my position;
for I well know that there is no scholar less willing or less able to
be a polemic. * * * I shall go on just as before, seeing what-
ever I can, and telling what I see; and, I suppose, with the same
fortune that has hitherto attended me — the joy of finding that my
abler and better brothers, who work with the sympathy of society,
loving and beloved, do now and then unexpectedly confirm my
perceptions, and find my nonsense is only their own thought in
motley."
Although having access to Emerson's voluminous corre-
spondence and the diary kept by him for a great part of his life,
Mr. Cabot has used rare discretion in the use of these materials,
and, perhaps mindful of the severe criticisms bestowed upon
Froude for his free use of such private sources of information,
has been verv careful in his extracts from them, yet not so much
so as to prevent our gaining a true insight into the real character
of the man in his most intimate relationships. It is worthy of
note in this connection that Ralph Waldo was not at first by his
family, nor .ever by himself, considered tlie Emerson of the
Emersons. His brilliant brother Edward Emerson, who went
insane through overwork of brain at an early age, and his brother
Charles, whom he loved dearly and called "my friend, my orna-
ment, my joy and pride," and who died of quick consumption,
were both thought to be his superiors in genius, and lie always
rated them as such. His friendships, though not passionate, were
many and warm. Singularly enough for a man of such placid
nature and strong convictions, a number of women were among
his most cherished friends. Elizabeth Hoar (the affianced of his
brother Charles), Margaret Fuller, Mrs. Sarah Alden Ripley,
his Aunt Mary Moody Emerson and Miss Elizabeth Peabody
were among these.
There is so much that is quotable in these volumes that it is
difficult to refrain from giving extracts, and, though space will
not in this short notice permit, we have marked much for future
reference. In view of the general opinion as regards Carlyle's
groutiness it is refreshing to read Emerson's statement after his
first meeting with the Carlyles at Craigenputtock : "Truth and
peace and faith dwell with them and beautify them. I never saw
more amiableness than is in his countenance ; " and again : " But
Carlvle — Carlyle is so amiable that I love him." Another strik-
ing point in his friendships was his great and continued admira-
tion of A. B. Alcott, of whom he says : " He has more of the
godlike than any man I have ever seen, and his presence rebukes
and threatens and raises. He is a teacher. If he cannot make
intelligent men feel the presence of a superior nature, the worse
lor them; I can never doubt him." He writes in his diary of
him: "Yesterday Alcott left us, after a three days' visit. The
most extraordinary man and the highest genius of his time. He
ought to go publishing through the land his gospel like them of
old time. Wonderful is the steadiness of his vision. The scope
and steadiness of his eye at once rebuke all before it, and we little
men creep about ashamed."
Mr. Cabot seems more than most biographers thoroughly
appreciative of Emerson's character, and without much attempt
at explanation or criticism on his own part lets extracts from
Emerson's own letters and diary portray the grow-th of his deeper
religious feeling and of his intellectual convictions, which as soon
as he defined to himself he conscientiously expressed. In 183S
he already writes in his diary : " What shall I answer to these
friendly youths who ask of me an account of theism, and think the
views I have expressed of God desolating and ghastly? I say
that I cannot find, as I explore my own consciousness, any truth
in saying that God is a person, but the reverse. I feel that there
is some profanation in saying he is personal. To represent him
as an individual is to shut him out of my consciousness. He is
then but a great man, such as the crowd worships. * * * I
deny personality to God because it is too little, not too much.
Life — personal life — is faint and cold to the energy of God. For
Reason, and Love, and Beauty, or that which is all of these — it is
the life of Life, the reason of Reason, the love of Love."
It is characteristic of Emerson's doubt and distrust of himself
that of the one hundred and seventy-three sermons which he
wrote during his ministerial experience only two were ever
allowed to get into print; but the fact that he never felt quite at
home in the pulpit may account for this. These two volumes
are nicely bound and printed, a fact which "goes without saving"
when the name of the publishing firm of Houghton, Mifflin & Co.
is mentioned in connection with the work.
Love and Theology. A novel. By Celia Parker Woolley.
Boston: Ticknor and Company, 1SS7; pp.439.
Mrs. Woolley recognizes in the title of her unique story the
fact that theology has more frequently proved a disturbing factor
in love affairs than is generally acknowledged, and the apparent
aim of the work (for this is "a story with a moral" — nav several
morals) is to point out how in the present transitional stage of
religious beliefs among many classes of believers, "unity in
diversity " may be attained without sacrifice of conscientious
theological scruples on either side, and without necessarily
wrecking life's happiness because of them, and this mainly
through cultivation of the spirit of respect as well as of charity
for the religious faith and intellectual convictions of others.
We have four pair of lovers in this novel, an assortment
sufficient to give free scope to the outworking of our author's
idea. There is one pair who never weds. A man well worth
loving who, understanding all that might come of the hereditary
insanity and idiocy with which his familv were afflicted, noblv
surrenders to the welfare of the race all his hopes of love's com-
panionship and inspiration, devoting his life to the help of the inno-
cent ones brought into the world thus doomed; and the strong-
minded woman who loves him well enough to renounce him,
recognizing the righteousness of his decision, yet for his sake
leading a single, though not solitary or bemoaning life, but active
in all reform and interested to teach the world that higher knowl-
edge which forgets selfish, in universal, good. Another couple
is of a more modernly fashionable type. A wealthy, cultured
handsome, graceful woman with a mind of her own, liberal ideas,
interested in all the reforms of the day, woman suffrage included
— a student of Herbert Spencer's works; and a young, fine-look-
ing, broad-minded Episcopal clergyman. Then there is the
pretty, serious, earnest daughter of a radical freethinker, a girl
whose inherited tenderness reverts to ancestors more devout and
remote than her good-naturedly skeptical father, and her lover, a
practical, common-place, but true-hearted man of the world, who
had given religion of any sort but slight attention, though
touched with the general spirit of skepticism. But the real hero
and heroine of the story, whose love and theology we are most
urgently called upon to consider, are two persons of much more
widely divergent views than any of these. One the daughter of
a New England deacon, with the inherited religious narrowness
of many sternly orthodox ancestors born in her nature; one
whom the ever increasing waves of liberal religious thought had
never reached, whose very conscience was built up on creed and
dogma, and her ardent young lover, to whom she had become
betrothed while he was studying for the ministry, but whose
studies taking a wider range than usual had finally included the
preachings of Theodore Parker, a result of which was his con-
scientious decision that he could not with his wider views become
THE OPEN COURT.
5.39
a preacher of an outgrown religion. When he half fearfully ex-
plains this to his affianced her whole being rises in protest, and
finding him firm in his determination, her own remorseless con-
scientiousness causes her to break their engagement, though
acknowledging that she loves him with her whole heart. Thence-
forward ensues a long wearisome struggle of love agains*. the-
ology, in which, of course, love ultimately triumphs, but only in
the face of threatened death to the beloved. We think it an
artistic touch in the writer of this strongly-wrought story that
the girl does not even after marriage become a convert to her
husband's faith, only learns to respect it and him, and the con-
cessions to individual opinion are mutual and sincere. This is
the lesson of the story. The author says, " In this generous strife
of loving hearts to set the other before self, and pay respect to
the sincerity of the belief that differs from our own, we get nearer
the heart of goodness than in any other way."
Though the story is told in a serious way worthy of its pur-
pose there is no lack of incident, of bright talk, of descriptive
touches, and bits of fun, to lure the mere story-lover on to read
to the end; the moral is conveyed, but not preached. The book
is prettily bound, printed in excellent clear type and will make
the right sort of lover's gift in all cases where theology ventures
to infringe upon the divine rights of love.
A Collection of Letters of Thackeray. 1S47-1S55.
With Portraits and Reproductions of Letters and Drawings.
New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1887; pp. 1S9. Price,
$2.50. For sale by A. C. McClurg & Co., Chicago.
These letters, written by W. M. Thackeray to his old college
friend, William H. Brookfield, and his wife, Jane Octavia Brook-
field, have already appeared in serial form in Scri&ner's Magazine,
and from them we have given occasional extracts, and the temp-
tation to quote further from them in their new form is very great;
but that pleasure we must in this notice forego. To the lovers of
Thackeray's writings it has been a source of regret that by the
novelist's own special request, made to his family and friends, no
memoir of him has been written, and the widespread desire
among his admirers to know more of Thackeray the man, has
been hitherto disappointed. To gratify in a measure this wish,
as well as to do honor to her dead friend, is Mrs. Brookfield's aim
in giving to the public this collection. In regard to their publica-
tion his daughter, Mrs. Anne Thackeray Ritchie, writes to Mrs.
Brookfield thus: "I am very glad to hear that you have made a
satisfactory arrangement for publishing your selection from my
father's letters. I am, of course, unable myself by his expressed
wish to do anything of the sort. * * * I have often felt sorry
to think that no one should ever know more of him. You know
better than any one what we should like said or unsaid, and what he
would have wished ; so that I am very glad to think you have under-
taken the work." The letters show the man to be much more
amiable than the novelist. They are as delightful reading as any
book he ever wrote. They begin at a time when he was first
called upon to bear the heavy burden of home sorrow, which he
bore for so many years uncomplainingly — the loss of reason
in one he often tenderly refers to in these letters as " my poor
little wife," soon after the birth of their youngest daughter. But
the letters themselves are brimful of good-natured fun, satire and
tender feeling. He seems to have entertained for Mr. Brookfield,
and more especially for his wife, a very cordial and trustful
friendship, and he writes frankly of all the things which interest
him, of his home, his children — to whom he appears devotedly
attached, a playfellow as well as father — and the various public
successes and annoyances he encountered. His wit and fancy
find free play in these private letters to trusted friends, and he
breaks off in the middle of a sentence to make some comical
drawing suggested by something he has seen or written. There
are about thirty fac similes of these drawings given in the vol-
ume, together with several good but differing portraits of Thack-
eray. The book is in quarto form and beautifully bound.
Evolution and Christianity. A Study. By y. C. F. Grata-
bine. Chicago: Charles II. Kerr& Co., 175 Dearborn street;
PP- 75-
The author's object in this little work is to show that the
natural order is an expression and manifestation of the will of
God; that evolution is a fact in this order; that "revelation is but
another name for evolution," and that Jesus and Christianity,
when stripped of all that is fabulous and false, are in no way
opposed to but in harmony with and illustrative of the law
of natural growth.
We quite agree with Mr. Grumbine that Christianity has had
a natural origin and development; and without doubt the reasons
for its persistence in its many forms, even the lowest and most
grotesque, have been in the conditions amidst which it has flour-
ished and in its adaptedness to meet certain wants; but we do not
believe that it can be divested of all its fabulous and miraculous
features and still properly be regarded as a great religious system
and entitled to be called Christianity.
Our author while trying to apply evolution to the religious
life of man seems to think that before and back of evolution was
some direct creative impulse. " It is not for us to decide," he
says, "how quickly or how perfectly God could make any type of
life, nor whether he would or could violate the very laws which
condition the regularity, order and stability of the universe."
(P. 49.) " Each organism is a thought of God, projected in time
and space. Yet it is a thought of God premeditated in the first
creation out of which come universal existence." (P. 55.)
The least satisfactory part of the book is that wnich refers to
the relation of evolution to immortality — " this postulate which
Christianity so ardently and essentially sets forth." Mr. Grum-
bine says that spirit must be accounted for as well as mechanical
force or lifeless matter. This remark is followed by some pas-
sages on the consolation afforded by belief in immortality. We
are next told " we must account for all life or grant a peculiar
constituent to life in the form of man, or there will be a sad
break in the chain of facts," etc., and that " Christianity will have
no interpretation, meaning and authority in consciousness, and
will prove to be but a will-o'-the-wisp of the mind," etc. Our
author thinks " that life in every organized form may have two
bearings — one in material, the other in immaterial existence."
He hesitates to affirm "whether the vegetable, or animal king-
doms will be deprived of a future life." The essential importance
in such a discussion of the questions how that which has been
formed can escape decay, how that which has come by evolution
can be exempt forever from dissolution, how consciousness, when
admitted to be the product of evolution, can persist amid condi-
tions superior to the law of change to which it has always been
subject, and how this view of personal persistence can derive
support from what we know under the name of evolution — the
importance of these questions in the consideration of the subject,
seems not to have occurred to our author. But the little volume
contains many good thoughts, which are presented in an earnest
and candid spirit.
Crimes of Christianity. By G. W. Foote and J. M. Wheeler.
London : Progressive Publishing Company, 28 Stonecutter
Street, E. C, 18S8; Vol. I. pp. 215.
This volume is a condensed account of the mistakes, follies
and crimes of the Christian Church from the time it was founded
to the end of the Crusades. The acts of Constantine, the perse-
cution and murder of Hypatia and other unbelievers and heretics,
the evils of monkery, the forgeries perpetrated by ecclesiastics,
54°
THE OPEN COURT.
the crimes of the popes, the persecution of the Jews and the hor-
rors and deplorable results of the Crusades, are presented in a con-
cise and impressive manner. The authors claim that "the tri-
umph of Christianity was the triumph of barbarism," and this
they try to prove by narrating many of the crimes and cruelties
which marked the history of the Church during the period treated,
while carefully omitting all reference to the brighter side and
nobler aspects of that history. Gibbon, Milman, Giesler, New-
man (J. H.), Lecky, Mosheim, Hallam, Jortin, Carlyle and other
eminent authors are cited, and so far as we have been able to
verify the quotations, they are given accurately; at the same
time, as given they often convey an impression quite different
from that produced by the writings from which they are taken
The method is identical with that of many works written in
defense of Christianity. It does not give a fair, impartial view of
Christianity in its influence on the world; but it may be read
with profit by those who are acquainted only with those treatises
on Christianity which aim to prove its divinity by referring to all
its good precepts and to all the bright spots in the civilization of
Christendom, and presenting in contrast thereto all the evils of
Paganism and the mistakes and follies of " infidels." For the
unpartizan, scientific mind that views Christianity as a system of
thought which has its place in the evolutionary order, the work
has value only as one of the indications and products of a transi-
tional stage of thought. Messrs. Foote and Wheeler have the
ability and education, if they could but emancipate themselves
from the method and influence of the theology they so rabidly
oppose, to write a much better book in regard to the influences
of Christianity, than the one here noticed.
The Earth in Space. A Manual of Astronomical Geogra-
phy. By Ed-card P. Jackson, A.M., Instructor in Physical
Science in the Boston Latin School. Boston: D. C. Heath
& Co., 18S7; pp. 73.
This little manual, an abbreviated and simplified version of a
mathematical geography issued some years ago, was prepared in
compliance with the request of the late Miss Lucretia Crocker, a
supervisor of the Boston public schools. It is designed for gram-
mar schools and for high and normal schools; but it may be
profitably studied by any one who is unacquainted with and
desires instruction in the most practical of all the departments of
astronomy.
Random Recollections. By Henry B. Stanton. New York:
Harper & Brothers, Franklin Square, 1S87; pp. 298.
This handsome volume contains many interesting reminis-
cences of its author, the late Henry B. Stanton. It gives a sketch
of his life from his birth in 1S05, with recollections of individuals
and incidents to the last years of his life, during which he came in
contact with many eminent men and women, and was in positions
to learn much in regard to personal characters, and the political,
religious and social movements of his time. Among the themes
of Mr. Stanton's "random" notes are the following: "The Bom-
bardment of Stonington," " Perry's Victory on Lake Erie," " Lor-
enzo Dow," "Connecticut Calvinism," " Nathan Daboll, the
Arithmetician," "George D. Prentice," "Henry Clay," "Tam-
many Hall," "The Anti-Masonic Excitement," "Thurlow Weed,"
" Edmund Kean," ■' Garrett Smith and Frances Wright," " De
Witt Clinton and Van Buren," " Millard Fillmore, Seward and
Silas Wright," " The Wilmot Proviso and Charles G.Finney,"
"Lyman Beecher and James G. Birney," "John Neal, the Poet,"
"John Quincy Adams," "Graham, the Dietatic Reformer," "The
Abolitionists," "The World's Anti-Slavery Convention in En-
gland," "Wellington on the Irish Question," "Macaulay and
Gladstone," " The Chartists," " O'Connell," " Webster," " Choate,"
"'Mad' Anthony Wayne," "Cass," " Buchannan," " Marcy,"
"Douglass," "Greeley and Conkling," "Lincoln and Corwin,"
"Gen. Butler," " Cameron, Chase and Blair," "American Jour-
nalism and the Daily Papers," "Religious Newspapers," etc.
In the la^t chapter, the author says: "As I turn my eye back
over the fourscore years covered by this narrative, I am deeply
impressed with the sad thought that nearly all the persons of
whom I have written are in the spirit-land, and that some of the
more distinguished have entered its portals since the first edition
of this work was issued." We have seldom read a more interest-
ing book than Random Recollections.
The Clerical Combination to Influence Civil Legisla-
tion on Marriage and Divorce. By Richard Brodhead,
D.D., LL.D. J. B. Lippincott Company, 1S87; pp. 32.
Dr. Westerbrook has brought together in a condensed form
many useful facts, historical and legal, accompanied with judi-
cious comments and suggestions in regard to marriage and
divorce. He views with suspicion the movement of ecclesiastics
ex officio to dictate civil legislation on domestic relations. The
falsity of the claim that monogamic marriage is of Christian ori-
gin, and that the clergy are its divinely commissioned ministers is
pointedly indicated, and the position defended that the State
should recognize marriage as a civil contract only. " Let the
civil contract," he says, "be first ratified by a civil officer, and
then hand the contractors over to the clergy if they so desire."
This is undoubtedly the correct view, and the only one consistent
with the total separation of Church and State. Marriage can be
justly treated by the State only as a civil contract, and the recog-
nition of its ratification by ecclesiastics, be they Christian, Mo-
hammedan or Mormon, is contrary to the principles of secular
government. Our author says " Free and-easy divorce should
not be made possible by law, nor should the foundation of mar-
riage or the sacredness of the family and the home be under-
mined. The extremes of dogmatism and fanaticism should be .
avoided, and the law of social science and public policy should
be carefully considered."
Poems. Bv James I'i/a Blake. Chicago: C. H. Kerr & Co.
Boston: Geo. H. Ellis, 1SS7; pp. 1S7. Price, $1.00
Essays. By J. V.Blake. Chicago: C H. Kerr & Co. Boston:
Geo. H. Ellis; pp. 212. Price, $1.00.
Mr. Blake's modeslly named book of " Poems" contains
about one hundred bits of verse, the two longest, which open and
close the collection, being entitled " Wild Rice" and "John
Atheling " Of the shorter poems we like best " Everlasting,"
"The Bishop's Eyes," "Jesus," "Amoris Avaritia," "Actum Est"
and '.' N'Importe." Mr. Blake's idea of poetry is expressed in
the following lines:
" Simply to see things as they are, this, this
Is poetry; for beauty, power and bliss
Cannot consist with what is not. Thus he
Who sees the truth, liveth with poetry,
And singeth when he tells what he doth see."
Many of the poems are pleasant lover's verse.
The Essays are thirty in number, and treat in Mr. Blake's
happy way of such subjects as "Immortal Life," "Death," "Con-
science," "Heroism," " Individuality," "Common Sense," "Gov-
ernment" and kindred every day topics which are looked at from
a generally optimistic point of view.
The Christmas number of Wide- Awake is to have articles
from Edmund C. Steadman, Andrew Lang, II. Rider Haggard,
Sidney Luska and others as noted. It will be a grand Christmas
present for any young person. The October number, with its
usual number of fine illustrations, has contributions from Mrs. A.
D. T. Whitney, Edwin Arnold, Louise Quincy and others.
Charles Egbert Craddock's story of " Keedon Bluffs " is concluded
in a satisfactory way.
The Open Court
A Fortnightly Journal,
Devoted to the Work of Establishing Ethics and Religion Upon a Scientific Basis.
Vol. I. No. 20.
CHICAGO, NOVEMBER 10, 1887.
I Three Dollars per Year
I Single Copies, 15 cts.
FROM DESPOTISM TO REPUBLICANISM IN
RELIGION.
KY JOHN BURROUGHS.
The most advanced religious thought I have lately
met with, that seems at all in line with the old theology
is in a book of Elisha Mulford, " The Republic of God."
I say " in line with the old theology, " but far bevond
and above its interpretation of religious dogma and doc-
trines.
The author's confession of faith does not seem to
differ materially from that of the evangelical churches,
but he gives it some inner transcendental or highly spirit-
ual meaning. Indeed, it is not always easy to get at his
meaning: at times he speaks as if veiled, or as if hidden
from us by a screen like the oracles of old. The fact that
Mulford was very hard of hearing, seems to be implied
in his writings.
There is often an obscurity, a vagueness, a far-away
dreaminess and irrelevancy, that is like the monologue of
one talking to himself and not hearing his own words.
But there are many intelligible passages, though these are
generally preluded by, and rounded up with, that which
is unintelligible. Thus, when speaking of the Redemp-
tion of the World, and affirming that the death of Christ
did not take away the wrath of God against sin, he says:
" it were woe if the wrath of God was averted from sin.
It were woe to men and nations if there were no judg-
ment, in which the consequences of evil courses were
manifested," he speaks to the universal reason and con-
science; but when he follows with the statement that:
" The Christ redeems the world from sin and from the
consequences of sin-" he speaks only to some theologi-
cal conception or conviction that has no relation to the
rest of our knowledge, and that only a few men possess.
Mulford's book, as a whole, seems to be a considera-
tion, or celebration of the ethical process of life and his-
tory, as opposed to the physical process, of that which is
internal or spiritual; and which therefore knows neither
time nor place, as opposed to that which is external and
limited, and therefore transient. In other words, what he
conceives to be the true inwardness of Christianity.
The sentence in the teachings of Christ, which has
been a stumbling block to the old external religions,
which had their attention fixed upon some distant and
future good, namely, that " the kingdom of heaven is
within you" seems to be the central thought of his teach-
ings. If I apprehend him rightly, he teaches that the
kingdom of heaven, that the spiritual or eternal life,
is here and now, within reach of every man; that
the judgment, and the resurrection, and the eternal
condemnation are here, and are not remote events or
conditions, adjourned to some other sphere or time.
This view of them, which is the view of the prevailing
theology, inherited from paganism, makes these things
very external to us; and therefore subject to
chance and to limitations. This agrees with what
the poet says, that " there is no more heaven and
no more hell than there is now"; and with what
every man of science must have felt, that man
can be no nearer God, and all divine things,
than he is here and now. Christ announced that the
kingdom of heaven is at hand; and that he was the re-
surrection and the life. The eternal life, is to live in the
eternal order, as Arnold puts it, and eternal death is to
live in contradiction of that order. To pass from the
one to the other, is to pass from the life of the flesh, to
the life of the spirit. The punishment of sin is eternal,
in the sense that the principle violated is eternal, and
changes not. " But to identify this with an irrevocable
doom, is to set a definite limit to the divine redemption,
and to its perfect realization. It brings a section of the
human race into an ultimate condition of fate, and not
of freedom. The spiritual law is eternal, but not the ne-
cessary continuance in sin of one child of earth and
time. " The eternal life, therefore, is the right life, or
righteousness; and the eternal death is the wrong life
or sin. The reconciliation of the world with God is
not the reconciliation of opposite forces, because this
would imply a dualism, as in the current theology;
but Mulford denies all dualism: "it is not the reconcilia-
tion of the hoi)- and the profane, the wicked and the
righteous, the forces which are of the world, and the
forces which are of God, — it is the reconciliation of the
world unto God. The finite is transmuted into the in-
finite, the earthly is lifted unto the heavenly." The
kingdom of heaven, Mulford teaches, is the assertion
and the recognition of the presence of spiritual forces.
" This kingdom has come, and it may be always com-
ing; it is in the realization of righteousness in the life
of humanity. It has come and it is, therefore, no va-
cant dream; it is always coming, and it is therefore to be
striven for, with the energy and the endeavor of men."
542
THE OPEN COURT.
Mulford points out, how the pagan conception of heav-
en, as of some blessed abode far away, and inaccessible,
still prevails and moulds and colors our religious thought.
" The heavens are still far above us, above this spot
which men call earth, and are carried on and away be-
fore us; they are still an Elysian view; the happy fields
are located in the future, and the religious imagination
invests them with images of delight; they are held as
some enchantment, to body forth some ecstatic dream.
The infinite spiritual depths and heights, are not real for
humanity. . . . This pagan conception avoids the words
of the Christ, Behold the Kingdom of God is
•within von. It says that it is not within you!" Accord-
ing to his view " The representation of heaven, was an
unreality while still "it was invested with the attractions
of that which the eye had seen, and the ear had heard;
and it had entered into the heart of man to conceive."
The forms and conceptions of ancient religions, still de-
termine our thought. " They rule us from their buried
urns. The gods of those imaginative forms, whether
dark and cruel, or light and beautiful with the changing
forms of life, have vanished, and the temples and shrines
are sought no longer by men, but the religious concep-
tions and images still control us; they do but slowly
fade. " Thus the popular conception of God is essen-
tially pagan; "He becomes himself a Baal, a Moloch, or
a .Siva; he is pacified by the suffering and death of his
children; his presence is in a temple; his appearing is
through the doors of a shrine; his revelation is the sacred
books; his coming again is an event of historical circum-
stance in the formal process of history."
Our conception of the judgment, also, as a high
court or tribunal where man shall be judged as in an
earthly court, is pagan, and has no warrant in the teach-
ings of the Christ. "The judgment of the world is
constant; it is continuous." "The Christ says this is
the judgment, that light has come into the ■world, and
men loved darkness rather than light, because their
deeds were evil. " " This judgment is in the hour that
cometh and now is, but it is not limited to the present,
and it does not detach the future from the present."
By removing this judgment afar off to some distant
time and place, men grow indifferent to it. " It is an
event for which time may bring evasions. " " But when
this judgment is apprehended in its real and spiritual
import, as near and at the very door, as the judgment
of truth, then the conscience cannot be set at rest by
theories or dreams, nor by the undefined anticipations
of evasion or delay. " At the same time, this view is
for humanity only in its higher developments; judg-
ment as the present and persistent voice of truth and
conscience, " the still small voice, " can have little terror
for the mass of mankind. Something more drastic is
needed and this is supplied by the " law of reversals and
reprisals " of the old theology. In the same way, the
coming of Christ is a daily and hourly event in the pro-
gress of humanity. Now is the day of salvation. " The
coming may be in the passing away of that which is old;
in the doom of some inhuman system, as that of slavery,
which has bound up with destruction the life of the
family and the nation " as in our late war, when Christ
did indeed come as in the clouds of heaven, and with
the besom of destruction. " The coming of the Son of
Man is thus always at hand ; it is a constant motive to
duty It does not adjourn the thoughts of man to
some remote date, some distant season, in which one shall
come in the guise of a king, in certain external relations,
to judge and rule the earth." Such a conception is
pagan, and its prevalence in the religious thought of our
day, only shows how paganish we still are. The com-
ing of Christ is in the appearance of every fine and
brave religious soul that rebukes the sin and folly of the
world and awakens a higher ideal within us. He has
always come and is always coming, and was, indeed
from the foundations of the world. He is the spirit of
truth and of righteousness in every age and clime.
By this view of the matter, Mulford gets rid of some
grave difficulties in the New Testament. Still, there can
be little doubt that the disciples of Christ were to the
last, more or less dominated by the pagan conception ot
the second coming of their Master in their own day, in
an external, visible form, and in great power and
glory, as a king or conquering hero comes.
Mulford also gets over some grave difficulties by
taking Christianity out of the systems of religion that
have, at different times, borne sway in the world, and
declaring that it is not a religion but a revelation.
The old religions were superstitions, and have, at times,
appeared as a thing of good and again of evil. Relig-
ion " has given the motive to some of the noblest,
and again to some of the darkest pages of history."
" It has been the ally of rapine, the defense of crime,
the cry of war." But Christianity is not a religion,
though all these things have pertained to it. Why
it is not safe to consider it merely a religion is this:
we should then be obliged to " admit that it was rela-
tive, and might be at some date displaced by some form
of religion yet more worthy of better adaptation," as
other religions have been. As soon as we admit Chris-
tianity to be one of the many forms of the religions of
the world, one step in the religious history of mankind,
we place it among things that are perishable and tem-
porary. The natural philosopher may so regard it, but
Mulford attempts to take it out of this category entire-
ly. "It cannot be brought within the scope or province
of any definition of religion that has a justification in
history. It is not the product of any distinctive reli-
gious progress; or, further, it has not its origin in any
system of speculation, nor in the reflective order of
thought." " It is not within the process of the history
THE OPEN COURT.
54.1
of religions. It is not to he brought as one stage into
the development, or as one subject in the comparative
study of religions. It is not related to them as one in-
dividual form to another, nor as the individual to the
universal." " If it be assumed that it is strictly a religion,
it is not clear in its relation to philosophy. For philoso-
phy will still maintain its claim to hold it in subjection
to its canons, to determine its position in relation to
the continuous progress of speculative thought, and will
still seek for a real and substantial truth !
" The Old Testament is not primarily the record of
a religion, or of a system or science of religion." " It
averts the attention from a further world, without affir-
mation and without denial in regard to it, and is intent
upon the eternal and infinite presence dwelling in the
here and now." "The writings of the New Testament,
as we pass again to their contents, have not a religion,
nor the institution, nor the revelation of a religion, for
their subject. It is the revelation of the Christ in man
and the infinite and eternal life of man. In these
writings the very word religion does not appear."
" The Christ institutes no cultus of worship and
prescribes no system of dogma. There is no suggestion
of form of worship or formula of doctrine. The bless-
ing which he gives is of those who act and suffer in the
life of humanity. It is of the gentle, of those who
mourn, of those who suffer persecution for righteousness,
of those who hunger after righteousness." " The Christ
had at no time an identity, even the most remote, with
any of the great sects or societies which represented and
embraced the distinctive religious life of his age. He
had no connection with the Scribe, or the Saducee, or the
Pharisee." The strongest contrast was seen in the char-
acter of the Pharisee. The Pharisee was not a man of
mere pretense; he was the type of strictly religious man,
but one who cared more for religion than for humanity,
like the typical religious man of our own day. The
Christ did not appear as a priest or an ascetic, he came
eating and drinking, he went among men, he was a
man of the world. " The reproach brought against
him by the religious sects and societies of his age was, he
eats -uith publicans and sinners ; behold the friend of
publicans and sinners? To the stickler for religious
forms he said " the Sabbath was made for man, and not
man for the Sabbath," and to the chief priests of the
religion of his times he said, " the publicans and the
harlots shall enter into the kingdom of heaven before
you."
Christianity, then, in this latest interpretation of it,
is the revelation of the divine in humanity, the oneness of
man with God, " the life that is here and now in the life
of the spirit but the life that is infinite, the life that is
eternal." Christ destroyed the temple; he was the
avowed enemy of religion as a form. "The worship
henceforth was to be that in which none need to
journey far, nor to go on pilgrimages to distant shrines
or cities to enter the doors of a temple."
To people without imagination or vision, who expect
the spirit life, the eternal life, to he but another and
better form of our present concrete life, far removed
from this and to be reached through the valley and the
shadow, who cannot conceive of God as here and now,
and immortality as here and now in the right conduct ot
our lives, these teachings of Mulford will seem like
mocking them with shadows. To the mass of men,
religious concerns are but another field for the exercise
of their worldliness, their prudence in looking out for
number one; they are as careful and diligent in laying up
treasures in heaven as they are in laying them up in
the savings bank, and there is as much of the spirit
of worldliness in the one case as in the other. It is a good
investment ; it is the thing for a prudent man to do.
Indeed, most of the religious appeals to the masses
distinctly strike this note, " Mend your ways or you will
miss a good time to-morrow." This is the pagan note,
the heathenism of religion, and those who share it will
not find much satisfaction in " The Republic of God." It
is a book for persons of feeling and imagination, for
those who are already living the life of the spirit, who
really know the kingdom of heaven is within.
There is not much in Dr. Mulford's teachings that
runs counter to the rest of our knowledge. The excep-
tional light in which he views the person and character
of Jesus, and their relation to mankind, may seem
unscientific and not in keeping with the rest of his
views. Also his conception of God as a person, but
exempt from the limitations of time and space, omnipo-
tent and omniscient, is a hard saying to a logical mind.
But for the rest, there is not much in the way.
Has not our science taught us that these ways are the
eternal wavs, that the heavens are no more yonder than
here, that this earth is a star in the sky with the rest;
that beauty, and truth, and goodness are not exter-
nalities, but qualities of the spirit, that the things that are
seen are temporal, but that the things that are not seen
are eternal ?
PERSONA.
BY PROF. F. MAX MILLER.
Part II.
But while in these cases persona is used in the
sense of the mask worn, we find it in others expressing
the real character represented by the actor on the stage.
When we now read of Dramatis Personam, we no
longer think of masks, but of the real characters ap-
pearing in a play. After all, an actor, wearing the
mask of a king, was for the time being a king, and
thus persona came to mean the very opposite of
mask, namely a man's real nature and character. Thus
Cicero, for instance, writes to Caesar that his nature
544
THE OPEN COURT.
and person, or what would now be called his character,
might fit him for a certain work: — Et ad earn rationem
. . . existimabam satis aptam esse et nataram ct per-
sonam meant, characterem dicere hodie solemits.
Nay, what is still more curious, persona slowly
assumes the meaning of a great personage, or of a
person of rank, and, in the end, of rank itself, as when
Cicero (de Fin. I. 2) says: — Genus hoc scribendi, etsi
sit elegans, persona tamen et dignitatis esse negant,
'Though this kind of writing be elegant, they deny that
it is weighty and dignified.'
This sense of persona prevailed during the Middle
Ages, and continues, as we shall see, to the present day.
A man magnae persona means in medireval Latin
a man of great dignity. We read of viri nobiles et per-
sonalis also of mercatores personati, always in the sense
of eminent and respected. In ecclesiastical language
persona soon took a technical meaning. Personatus
meant not only dignitas in general, but it was used of
those who held a living or several livings, but com-
mitted the actual cure of souls to a vicar. Personae
maxime ii qui beneficia sen ecclcsiac per vicarios
deserviri curant ; 'Persons are chiefly those who let
their benefices and churches be served by others.'
These so-called personae held very high rank, Habctit
dignitatem cum prerogativa in chore et capitulo. A
Canonicus, we read in a charter (anno 1227, torn. 2,
Hist. Eccl. Mell. p. 120), uon habebit in choro nostros
staulum in ordine persouarum, sed habebit prinium
staulum in ordine sacerdotum ; 'A canon shall not have
in our choir a stall in the row of the personae, but shall
have the first stall in the row of the priests.' No doubt,
this led to many abuses. We read of a nepos, a word
of peculiar meaning, which still lives in our own word
nepotism, who turpi commercio in diversis ecclcsiis
adeptus est personatus, 'who by dishonourable means
has obtained personatus in different churches.' As early
as 1222, in a council held at Oxford, the question had to
be discussed, utrum vicarius oncra ecclesiac subirc
debeat an persona, 'whether a vicar should fulfil the
duties of the church or a persona!1 From this persona
comes, no doubt, the modern name of parson, and it is
strange that so learned a man as Blackstone should not
have known this. For though he knows that parson
is derived from persona, he thinks that he was called so
because the church, which is an invisible body, was
represented by his person.
Blackstone, as a lawer, was evidently thinking of
another technical meaning which persona had assumed
from a very early time. Omnc Jus, we read in Paul.
Dig. lib. i, lit. 5, leg. 1, quo utimur vel ad pcrsonas
pcrtinet, vel ad res, vel ad actioncs. Anybody who
had rights was in legal language a person, and slaves
were said to have no person by law; nam servi per-
sonam legibus non habent (apud Senat. lib. 6, Epist. 8),
where persona may be really translated by right.
This is still more clearly seen in such phrases as habere
potestatem et personam emendi et vendendi, to possess
the power and right of buying and selling. In this
sense, no doubt, the parson may be said to be the
persona of his church, but this was not, as we saw, the
historical origin of the ecclesiastical persona, as opposed
to vicarius.
Lastly persona came to mean what we call a person,
an individual. We read in mediaeval writers of universi
persotiae qui capti sunt utraque parte, all the persons
who were taken on either side; and what is curious,
this use of persona as a masculine continues even in
modern French, where, under certain circumstances, we
may treat pcrsonnc as a masculine.
But even here the biography of persona is by no
means ended. At one time the fate of Christianity
seemed to depend on the right meaning of the word
vpnaurrnv or persona. Without entering here into all
the intricacies of the theological controversy, we can
easily see that nothing was more natural to a Christian
who spoke and thought in Greek than to apply to the
three manifestations of the Godhead the name of
prosopa, or masks. In doing this the earlier writers
were quite conscious of the metaphorical meaning of the
word. Thus, in the third century Clement (Pro-
trepticus, x. 110, S6 P.) speaks of Christ as assuming
the human mask (to avQpiimv -poeu-tlov ) and acting the
drama of human salvation (™ aoriipior 6pa/m -y? ai'dpimourrot:
i-tHpirt-o). A very similar expression is found in
Clement's Stromata, vii. n (313, S.), where we read
uftefKputr Toirrr VTroKpiv6fi£VO£ to ftphpa rov fliov nxf-p av 6 fiebc
ir/iMiaaaBat -apnoxn: 'Blamelessly acting whatever drama
of life God gave him to act.' It would have
been impossible to find a better metaphor for what
these early Christian philosophers wished to express,
namely that the substance of the Godhead was one,
but that it had manifested itself to us under three
aspects, or, as it were, under three masks, the Father,
the Son, and the Holy Ghost. This form of thought
would have satisfied the simplest peasant and the most
hair-spliting philosopher, so long as they were content
to see through the glass of metaphor darkly. But the
Eastern and Western Churches spoke two different
languages, and the Greek word prosopou always
differed somewhat from the Latin word persona, by
which it was translated. J^rosopon retained more or
less the meaning of the mask, persona added to it the
meaning of the wearer ot the mask. Persona connoted
what stood behind the mask, the hypostasis; prosopon
did not always.
Hence the Greek ecclesiastics were afraid of -zpoau-
770/' or mask. They thought it might seem to favor
too much the opinion of Sabellius, who maintained that
there was one imooTaac, substance, in the Godhead, and
THE OPEN COURT.
545
that Father, Son and Holy Ghost were but three
■jrp6aw-u, or bvdfia-a, names, or hipysuu, manifestations.
But tliev were equally afraid that if Father, Son, and
Holy Ghost were represented as too distinct from each
other, there was danger of Arianism, and that instead
of three irpdouTra they would have three oveltu. They
therefore took refuge in saying that there was in the
Godhead one ovaia, essence, but three tmoariactc, sub-
stances. Unfortunately the distinction between oivia,
essentia, and imoaraaig, substantia, was not one sanct-
ioned by philosophers at large, and even the earlier
Christian writers had used ovaia and vTrdar&ci; as synony-
mous. Those therefore who laid the greater stress on
the unity of the Godhead remonstrated against the
admission of three Inrdoraoeis which, in spite of all dec-
larations to the contrary, seemed to them the same as
maim. It was all very well to say, as Basilius did, that
i,voia, essence, differed from viroaraatg, substance, as the
general from the singular, as for instance 'animal'
differs from ' this man.' This did not satisfy either the
philosophical or the theological conscience of honest
thinkers, more particularly of those who had accustomed
themselves to the use of the word persona in Latin.
There is a most touching letter of St. Jerome's to
Pope Damasus*. He had been a follower of Origen,
and though he brought himself to speak of tres personae,
his conscience revolted against the new formula, tres
hypostases, which to his mind conveyed the meaning of
three substances. "Which apostle," he says, "has ever
uttered this? What new Paul, or teacher of the
Gentiles, taught it? I ask, What can be under-
stood by those hypostases': They answer, Three
subsisting persons. We answer that we hold that
faith. But they are not satisfied with what
we mean, they insist on our using the very word,
because some kind of poison is supposed to be hidden in
the very syllables. We cry out that if any one does
not confess the three hypostases as three enhypostata,
that is, as three subsisting personae, let him be anathema.
But because we do not learn the (new) words, we are
judged heretical. Surely, if any one who takes hypos-
tasis for ovaia (substance) says that there is not one ovaia
in the three personae, he is a stranger to Christ. . . .
Decide, I adjure you, if you like, and I shall not be
afraid to say three hypostases. If you command it, let
there be a new confession after that of Nicaea, and let
us orthodox Christians declare our faith in similar words
with the Arians! The whole school of secular knowl-
edge recognises hypostasis as nothing else but ovaia
And will any one, I ask, proclaim with his sacrilegious
mouth three substances? There is one only nature of
God which exists truly .... God alone who is eternal,
that is, who has no beginning, has really the name of
substance. . . . And because that nature alone is per-
fect, and there subsists but one Godhead in three per-
sons, which exists really and is one nature only, there-
fore whosoever says that there are three, namely three
substances, i. e. ovaiai, dares really, under the cloak of
piety, to assert that there are three natures. . . . Let us,
please, hear no more of three hypostases, hut let us
retain the one."
In spite of these remonstrances, however, St. Jerome
had to yield. He had to use the new word viroaraait
substantia, instead of persona, whether he could connect
a new meaning with it or not. The Christian Fathers
ought to have been most grateful for finding in their
language such a word and such a metaphor as irp6mmov
or persona, which could be honestlv applied to express
what they meant by the three manifestations of the
Godhead. But when that metaphor was dropt, and
people were asked to predicate three Inrooraaeig or sub-
stances of one ovaia or essence, they could hardly help
either drifting into some kind of Arianism, or using
words devoid of all meaning, f
Even here the biography of persona is not yet con-
cluded. Still greater issues sprang from that word, and
they continue to agitate the minds of the most serious
thinkers of our own age. Our forefathers delighted in
fathoming, as they thought, the true nature of the God-
head. There was no divine abyss into which they
hesitated to plunge, no mystery into which they thought
they could not throw the plummet of their language.
We have grown somewhat wiser, perhaps more reverent.
But our philosophers have thrown themselves with all
the greater zest upon a new problem, namely the ex-
ploration of the mystery of human nature. And here
also the only diving apparatus which was at hand for
their hazardous enterprise was language, and again the
old word persona had to be put under requisition. We
are told that what distinguishes us from all other living
beings is that we are personal beings. We are per-
sons, responsible persons, and our very being, our life
and immortality, are represented as depending on our
personality. But if we ask what this personality means,
and why we are called personae, the answers are very
ambiguous. Does our personality consist in our being
English or German, in our being young or old, male or
female, wise or foolish? And if not, what remains
when all these distinctions vanish? Is there a higher
Ego of which our human ego is but the shadow ? From
most philosophers we get but uncertain and evasive
answers to these questions, and perhaps even here, in
the darkest passages of psychological and metaphysical
inquiry, a true knowledge of language may prove our
best guide.
Let us remember that persona had two meanings,
that it meant originally a mask, but that it soon came
♦Vallarsi's edition of St. Jerome, in Mipne's ' Patrologia Latina,' vol. xxii.,
Epist. xv. 23.
fSee Hagenbach, ' Lehrbueh Uer Dogmengeschi hte ' (Leipzig, 1S67), pp.
1S7-221.
546
THE OPEN COURT.
to be used as the name of the wearer of the mask.
Knowing how many ambiguities of thought arose
from this, we have a right to ask: Does our personality
consist in the persona we are wearing, in our body, our
senses, our language and our reason, our thoughts, or
does our true personality lie somewhere else ? It may
be that at times we so forget ourselves, our true Self, as
to imagine that we are Romeo and Juliet, King Lear,
or Prince Hamlet. Nor can we doubt that we are
responsible each for his own dramatis persona, that we
are hissed or applauded, punished or rewarded, accord-
ing as we act the part allotted to us in this earthly
drama, badly or well. But the time comes when we
awake, when we feel that not only our flesh and our
blood, but all that we have been able to feel, to think
and to say, was outside our true self; that we were
witnesses, not actors; and that before we can go home,
we must take off our masks, standing like strangers on a
strange stage, and wondering how for so long a time
we did not perceive even within ourselves the simple
distinction between persona and persona, between the
mask and the wearer.
There is a Sankrit verse which an Indian friend of
mine, a famous Minister of State, sent me when retiring
from the world to spend his last years in contemplation
of the highest problems:
No deho nendrivfi/n ksharam atiiapala/// no mano naiva
btiddhi/;,
Piano naivaham asmity akhila^arfam idaw vastiu^ata/« kathaw
syam :
Naha/w kdme na daran gr/hasutastyanakshetravittadi duram,
S.lkshi /i'itpratygfitmfi nikhilanagadadhish///3nabhuta// sivoham.
' I am not this body, not the senses, nor this perishable, fickle
mind, not even the understanding; I am not indeed this breath;
how should I be this entirely dull matter? I do not desire, no,
not a wife, far less houses, sons, friends, land and wealth. I am
the witness only, the perceiving inner self, the support of the
whole world, and blessed.'
CHATS WITH A CHIMPANZEE.
BY' MONCURE D. CONWAY.
Part I'll I, and last.
Late in the soft night I sat at my window in Benares
looking up to the constellations, and on the domes and
towers with which earth answered the constellations.
Benares never sleeps; equally, it never awakens; the
pilgrims round their camp-fires come nearer to reality in
their night dreams than their day — mares, shall I say?
But through the night the Holy City is restless, the
phantasmal figures moving in the distance seemed like
children left out of doors, lost, unable to find repose;
and the warm wind in the holy-figs was as the sigh of
the earth, saying: " My poor children, I love you, my
heart bleeds for you, but, prisoned in my zenana of
ignorance, I cannot help you, and must leave you to
petition some more fortunate world to adopt you." The
splendor of a great moonrise shone on the Ganges, cov-
ering that slumberous stream with golden glamour. As
I gazed on the moonrise, through vista of a forked tree
near my window, a shadowy head slowly rose against
the brightness; even as I was rubbing my eyes to look
again a voice said — Come! It was low, but I knew itr
and softly made my way out to meet my Chimpanzee.
He had descended from the tree, and now whispered
words that troubled me. Our more recent interviews
must have been partly overheard by the priests; these
could not, of course, comprehend our talk, but the bare
idea of an intelligent god filled them with alarm. " The
step from deity to demon is easily taken," said my friend,
" and I have probably taken it in ceasing to be dumb.
After you left me I saw a priest slip out from behind a
wall near us, his face ghastly with alarm. For the rest
of the day I was watched. It became certain to me that
you would be forbidden entrance again, but I was
anxious to communicate with you, — it is pretty surely
for the last time, — so I climbed out and came to vour
window. Hist !"
" I heard nothing."
" I am fearsome. Let us go to the Deer Forest."
We were in that suburb to which English residence*
bring quietude at night. Passing through some silent
streets, not yet flared on by the rising moon, we noise-
lessly sped out of the city and reached the lonely road
leading to the ancient pile which consecrates the Deer
Forest, where Buddha opened his mission, — spot sacred
to the Buddhist, as to the Christian that Mount where
"the Sermon" was delivered. Near the mysterious
old tower was a tent put up by an English architect en-
gaged in repairing the ruin; I had taken to that archi-
tect a note of introduction some days before, and, when
we now reached the place, proposed that we should
enter the tent for conversation, for I saw that my friend
suspected that we were followed. "Let us enter, if you
feel free to do so," he said, " for no Hindu will venture
into an English precinct." We were soon comfortably
seated in the tent which bore witness to Europe's homage
to the " Light of Asia" (it is only Buddhist temples
which England repairs and cherishes), and my friend
spread before him some inscribed palm-leaves.
"I promised to repeat to you a discourse by Buddha,"
he said, " and it is to fulfill the promise that I have dis-
regarded the danger surrounding me."
" I am sorry you have done so, eager as I am to
learn the discourse. Nothing could grieve me more
than that any harm should befall you, and I am very-
grateful — "
" Nay, do not thank me too much; for I have con-
sidered also the race to which you belong; I have
weighed the probable danger to myself against the
probable benefit to many, which your knowledge of this
discourse may convey. But no time must be lost in
THE OPEN COURT.
547
what is pretty surely our last interview. Do you know
anything of Ambapali ?"
"The courtezan who sat at Buddha's feet ?"
" The same. Tell me what you have read of her
so that I need not repeat it."
" The ancient tale in the Suttas impressed me years
ago by its correspondence with one in the legend of
Jesus, at whose feet a courtezan, called the Magdalen,
sat. My remembrance is that Buddha, now a Lord
honored bv the great, when travelling with friends
toward Benares, came to a mango-grove, at centre of
which was a beautiful mansion, whose occupants were
absent. The owner of the abode and the mango-grove,
was a courtezan known as Ambapali, ' the mango
girl.' She, hearing that the Lord was discoursing in
her grove, journeyed in her chariot to the place, and
listened to his teachings. When Buddha was silent she
approached, and, her name and vocation being known,
asked him if he with his disciples would eat food in her
house the next day. When it was known in that region,
Vesali, that the Lord had accepted the courtezan's invi-
tation, the Princes of that country came to her and said,
' Yield to us the honor of giving this feast to the Lord
for a hundred thousand pieces of gold.' Ambapali re-
plied, ' Should you offer the whole land of Vesali, I
would not give up the honor of presenting this feast to
my Lord.' ' The mango-girl has outdone us,' said the
Princes. On the following day, after Buddha with his
disciples had eaten the feast she had prepared, sweet rice
and cakes, Ambapali entered and taking a low stool sat
at the teacher's side, and listened to his discourse. But a
few sentences of the discourse are given in the Sutta, but
I remember that in them was no reproof of the mango-
girl, nor even a distant allusion to her mode of life. It
is recorded, however, that Ambapali presented her
beautiful abode and the mango-grove to the teacher as
a home for his brotherhood.".
" Fairly remembered," said my friend. " But Buddha
did not travel to the mango-grove with disciples; he
came alone.' Ambapali was descended from the per-
fect race of which 1 have spoken; in her survived their
beauty and genius. This lady, while the favorite of
princes, used the wealth so obtained in collecting in her
neighborhood the scattered remnants of the grand race,
in whom some strain of their original dignity survived,
hoping to form again the social germ for the re-evolution
of that race. Her abode, which, in the outside world,
bore evil fame, was, in reality, consecrated by councils
devoted to the development of a higher race. It was
these, ancestors of us now worshiped in the Monkey
Temple, that Buddha found in the mango-grove, where
he had paused for rest on his weary foot-journey through
Vesali to Benares. Some others were present at the
discourse you have read in the Sutta; but when these
were gone Ambapali secured a more intimate interview
for her noble co-descendents, and it is this, not to be
found elsewhere, which I now entrust to you, as record-
ed by my ancestor there present."
BUDDHA, AMBAPALI, AND THE SORROWFUL ONES.
Avibapali. Lord! thou art brave and gracious to
enter the abode and cat the rice and salt of a courtezan.
Buddha. Lady, I am not thy judge. From those
who come to me I turn not away. I do not condemn
thee. If any one move in a way of error, — I say not
thine is such — the penalty is always tenfold their desert,
and I would take from rather than add to it.
Ambapdli. I do not justify, neither do I condemn
myself. I love man, though unwilling to be thrall ox
any : the sacramental licentiousness spawning pauperism,
the priestly cant consecrating such abominations as the
forced marriage of little children, the zenana whose
wretchedness makes the suttee-flame cooling to woman's
heart — these have determined my life. Let this my
abode be judged beside its alternative, the zenana, the
wives' prison. Let its owner be called libertine, but a
principled libertine. And yet, Lord, this is not the
happiness I dream.
Buddha. Dream your dream, Ambapali, till it
turn the obtrusive world to a phantasmagoria, and itself
become the reality. Could we by any art turn the
angry flood of life to the white foam of a happy dream,
then crystallize that shining essence in ideal shapes, even
if they swiftly melt away they leave us a permanent
pedestal above the dark tides of necessity. All men are
seeking to realize their happier dreams, but in ways that
end in realizing their nightmares. The diamond eyes
of the child lose their pure ray in the competition for
wealth. The tender breast loses its peace, the health}'
cheek its beauty, in struggling for the covering of neck-
lace and cloth of gold. The tine unconscious art of a
million ages has surrounded us with human forms, which
through our individual art may become the transparen-
cies of things fairer than themselves — things which
remain when the forms pass away. Men seek victory,
caring not that to others their victory is defeat. They
seek gold, forgetting that their neighbor's lot must sink
as their own rises. But the failure of one rises round
the success of another, and so the dream is found, when
realized, to be a horror.
Ambapali. How then, my Lord, can we realize
our dream?
Buddha. We cannot realize it in what is commonly
called realization: we cannot buy and sell our visions,
and turn them into palaces or things sought by ambi-
tion and selfishness. But if, knowing that this hungry
menagerie of powers in us rend and destroy the very
beauty which fascinates them, we bring to the pursuit
our finer genius, our distinctive humanity, we gain the
soul of that beauty. The child nurses a tin}' painted
puppet till it feels the maternal thrill. A living babe
could do nothing sweeter, while its reality is tragical.
The little mother never suffers the pain of parting with
her wooden babe. Ah, we must become children, Amba-
pali ! We must dwell in an enchanted land, and bring
to its every flower the flower of the mind; such flowers
neither pluck nor bruise, but fructify each other; the
wayfarer in a desert moves amid bloom and fruitage ot
paradise if his senses have been beguiled from the world
of objects to the artistic creation within.
Ambapdli. Is this your full dream, my Lord ?
543
THE OPEN COURT.
Buddha. Nay, I will speak a new thought rising
like a star before me. All that I have said but describes
a certain refuge I have found from the torment of seeing
a world tossed amid elements and forces blind and irre-
sistable. Instead of going farther and farther into those
crushing coils whose action is unconscious, I entreat men
to extricate themselves, so far as is possible, by not re-
producing themselves, or multiplying their ties to things
so swiftly passing ; but to love the permanent ideal —
man, not men; woman, not women; the divine, not
gods, — to conceive and even enjoy these by sensations
not confused with their particular or individual causes.
The enlightened lover would love the perfect man, the
perfect woman, of whom any individual may be a sym-
bol— in his unbroken dream. The joy is in loving.
The living symbol does not decay or die with any indi-
vidual. The passion for persons, whether husband,
wife, or child, which makes beings unjust, selfish, jeal-
ous,— this annualized passion must pass away by human-
ization, before the race can be happy. But what
is this I say ? It is but the thought of a thought. My
light goes no farther. What form in society, in govern-
ment, this my principle would assume I know not, more
than I know what will be the blossom and fruit of a
seed that never yet broke shell. I now depart, Amba-
pali, and pass on, sowing among others this seed which
has borne an inner flower and healing fruit for me, in
the belief that here or there some company will pres-
ently nurture and mature it to larger result. I have
done.
Ambapdli. My Lord, it shall be here, so far as
your servant can effect that. This mansion, this mango-
orove, and all my wealth I here present to as many of
these my brothers and sisters as are prepared to study
your teachings and follow them in practice.
" So ended the conversation of Buddha and the
courtezan, thenceforth a fair mother of spirits in the
Mano-o Grove, taming all passions, till lambs feared not
lions. Then and there was formed the fraternity out of
which were developed the gods and goddesses of our
Monkey Temple. When the Brahmans demanded of
those, our progenitors, service in their temples and
affairs, some refused and were slain, but the wiser,
remaining silent, were accounted dumb; there was a
survival of the silent, and articulate speech was lost.
There was also a survival of those whose hair grew
thickest, as we must not compete for clothing. As our
food must be obtained without painful wandering into
the world, or mixing in the frauds of trade, there was
an evolution of climbers who could bring food from
trees. As the males did not fight for brides, the big-
gest were not superior and larger size was not a
masculine inheritance. Our time is short; my sentences
sum centuries. For some generations the sexes had
their separate groves by day. When beauty, veiled by
darkness, had so ceased to be of utility, it ceased to be
selected; with it passed away the intensifications of
individual passion; jealousy, subjugation of one sex to
another, egotism, passed away. Our race became ugly
and good-natured. But the ugliness was only a veil
over a beauty inly seen. To each lover the invisible-
visible mate combined all perfections; insomuch that
beside the vision the fairest of the world's beauties had
been hideous. The faults and failures and meannesses
which once disenchanted the bride and bridegroom, could
not mar these symbolized idols. No one lost his bride
while any woman lived; none his child while any child
lived. Gradually consciousness grew faint, for it is
largely dependent on the egotism which merges the
world into one's self-interest. Our fathers have trans-
mitted that their last consciousness was of sinking to
slumber, as if in some secret grotto, where their fancies
became fairies, attending their wants, surrounding them
with all loveliness, and promising them that in some far
off time they should awaken into the upper world and
find it peopled and adorned as in their visions. But this
loss of consciousness did not bless all; a small but ever
decreasing number preserved memory, and handed
down the tradition of these steps, whereby the perfect
race retreated into anthropoid form to escape conscious-
ness of inner degradation. Finally, but one — myself —
was left to be heir of this history, and of these scriptures.
Despite my efforts I have not yet seen my anthropoid
form as a retreat of perennial sleepers, and the priests as
fairies, therefore I am not as happy as the others, but I
shall take care to have no heir. Therefore I entrust
these palm-leaves, these scriptures, this tradition to you;
and I do so because rumors from your far world have
raised the hope that — hist!"
We heard, indeed, furtive footsteps near the tent.
The Chimpanzee started away, and, casting on me a
kindly glance — pathetic in my memory — softly crept
out beneath a remote part of the tent's canvas. I listen-
ed, and presently heard hurrying footsteps, — then some-
thing like a gentle moan. Leaving the tent quickly I
walked around the ancient Buddhist tower but saw
nothing. The great golden moon illumined the Deer
Forest, but revealed no for,m. As I gazed on the full
orb there appeared plainly the hare into which the
Blessed One is said to have changed himself that he
might be eaten by a starving pilgrim; but presently the
lunar face and figure seemed to change to my beloved
Chimpanzee, and I shuddered at the thought that harm
might befall him through his service to me. I hurried
on to the Monkey Temple. It was two hours past
midnight, but there were torches blazing through open-
work of the walls which made me quicken speed.
I was too late. I drew near cautiously and beheld
my dear Sage prostrate, surrounded by six Brahmans of
highest order; one of these was just withdrawing from
the victim's lips a golden bowl. The men had terror in
their faces as they looked on the form before them.
They did not see me, but the Chimpanzee did, and with
a gesture warned me not to approach. " There is danger
near you," he said, "do not venture. Not one here
but you can understand a word of the language in which
THE OPEN COURT.
549
I am speaking; but they know it is language; the
miracle has changed me from god to devil. In their
terror, lest I work evil among my fellows, they have
given me poison. You cannot help me; therefore softly
conceal yourself, listening to my last words, directed to
these amazed priests, but meant for you. I see that you
grieve, but let it not be so. It is well enough that I
now die, for this surviving consciousness isolates me
from my race, and the human superstition afflicts me, so
that I cannot enjoy my godhood. I have wished to
bequeath to mankind the history you have heard, and
now pass cheerfully into the Nirvana of non-existence.
Yet with what voice is left me I will indicate what I
was about to say, as my last word, in the tent. Although
I feel that a fictitious and chaotic moral universe into
which the perfect race was dragged by superstition and
oppression made their reversion in outer form an inward
advance, this is not the ideal way. There are rumors
that, in some far new world, men are transforming these
phantasms called gods into human providences, their
ceremonies into services to man, and by Art, the true
Savior, gradually humanizing the hard inorganic earth
itself. If the tidings be true, that were to bring back to
the East, in beneficent incarnation, the innumerable
divinities exiled hence for their excellence, restoring
them in perfected form to supersede and clear away
these elemental phantoms to whom priestcraft gives a
ghoul-like actuality. For always the Stone-age gods
hold the land in mortgage, and can banish any young
deity who shows a variation from the stony standard.
All the westward migrations have been of pilgrims
bearing some fairer, tenderer god or godddess to an
unmortgaged land, where they might worship such. By
such devotion deities may be gradually conceived and
born of humanity; and shall we not hope, that they can
redeem their ancestral lands from Stone-age phantasms?
Of such tendencies in the West we have heard. Should
you repair to that far land, say unto those liberators of
humanity that, when they shall themselves be perfectly
free, they will make real in the earth that beauty and
joy which Buddha and Zoroaster, and other orient seers,
could know onlv in dreams and visions. For the present
there do, indeed, appear here from your far region
ignorant and foolish preachers, but perhaps it is because
they can find no hearers at home ; relieved of such stupid
elements, your country can better develop freedom and
knowledge. When they have fully learned that this
earth is man's and the fullness thereof, that instead of
gods creating the world, the world must create gods, —
then there will be gods, and they will surround the
planet with a tender providence. Their awakening
power will pass round the earth; in supernatural splen-
dor, in this temple, in these anthropoid forms, in human
forms whose reversion is mental and moral, shall the
sleeping Beauty of Humanity be found, thorn-hedged,
and at the kiss of incarnate Light come forth to find
earth her palace and her home.
MONOPOLY ON STRIKE.
BY WHEELBARROW.
I see by the papers that the retail coal dealers have
struck. These down-trodden and afflicted fellow-citi-
zens demand a raise of fifty cents a ton on coal,
from the first day of November, 1SS7, and, what is more
to the purpose, they are going to have it. With pious
gratitude they see the merciful Indian Summer fade
away, and they hail with hymns of gladness the snow
clouds coming in the North. A week ago they met at
the Grand Pacific Hotel, and sang the doxology of the
coal monopoly, " O, ye frost and cold, O, ye ice and
snow, Bless ye the Lord : praise him and magnify him
far ever." Praise -him and magnify him, an extra fifty
cents a ton.
It was further resolved at said meeting that any re-
tail coal dealer, wicked and depraved enough to sell coal
at a fair profit after November 1st, should be boycotted
by the association, and his business destroyed. A com-
munication was read from the agents of the coal mon-
opoly, and wholesale dealers, to the effect that they
would do the boycotting; that they would not sell coal
to any abandoned profligate retailer who should refuse
to join the strikers, or who should decline to take advan-
tage of the icebergs created by an all-wise Providence
for the benefit of coal merchants. I am writing this a
few days before the first of November, but I write in
the confident assurance that the strike will be successful,
and that from that day foward I must pay an extra fifty
cents a ton for coal. The strikes of capital and mon-
opoly never fail; the strikes of labor seldom succeed.
It is not at all certain that this will be the last strike
of the coal dealers this winter. It is highly probable,
indeed, that they will strike for another fifty cents a ton
by the 1st of December. It depends on the weather.
All through November they will watch with greedy
eyes the beaver and the squirrel. If the beaver builds
his house with extra care, and makes a thicker wall than
usual, or if the chipmunk lavs in an extra store of nuts,
the coal men will decide that the winter will be "hard,'''
and they will sanctify the augury by another tax on coal.
Fifty cents a ton on coal isn't much when you look at it
as a mere question of arithmetic, a sum in simple addi-
tion; but when you measure it by a poor man's wages,
and realize that it means a half a day's work for him, it
rises to the dignity of algebra, and if you reflect that it
includes the warning of a corresponding extortion upon
all other necessaries, it becomes a headaching, heartach-
ing problem of economical trigonometry that baffles
Benjamin Franklin.
It makes the pews laugh at the pulpit, and the pul-
pit laugh at the pews as the coal dealer's prayers go up
to heaven, asking for an early winter and a late spring.
55°
THE OPEN COURT.
For instance, I see by last Sunday's paper that the lum-
ber dealers had a meeting the day before, and resolved to
strike for an extra $2 per thousand feet. Their strike
will be successful, too, because they have the capital to
make it win. As I have no money either to build houses
or to buy them, it looks as if the strike of the lumber
dealers is nothing to me. My neighbor's affairs can
regulate themselves; it is enough for me to mind my own
business. I used to practice that philosophy, but I think
it cramps the liberal soul, and shuts the generous hand.
I have joined the other church, and I now believe that
my neighbor's affairs are also mine, and that I have an
interest in everything that happens in this world.
I have an interest in the strike of the lumber dealers,
because I know it will be followed by a strike of the
nail dealers, and the brick dealers, and the glass dealers,
and the dealers in putty. Dear material means less
building, and that means less demand for workmen, and
less wages for the mechanic and the laborer. This
strike attacks me front and rear, because although I may
not feel the added price of lumber so directly as I feel
the extra price of coal, vet it hits me indirectly in the
rent I pay for the house that gives me shelter from the
storm. I cannot escape it any easier than I can escape
the changes of temperature that follow the procession
of the sun.
It does not equalize conditions to tell me that I have
the privilege to strike for higher wages. When the
wild geese are flying south what chance have I to striker
" The stars in their courses fight against Sisera." The
weather itself forbids me to strike, and I shall be thank-
ful if my employer does not strike against me. What
good is my old shovel to attack monopoly intrenched in
the Capitol? Early in the war, I was part of a small
force guarding a railroad bridge in Missouri. Sudden-
ly we were attacked by a superior force of the enemy,
who opened fire upon us with a four gun battery. We
had no artillery, so our Colonel telegraphed to the
general for instructions, stating that the enemy's battery
was dropping shot and shell among his men, and that
he had nothing with which to reply. Instantly the
answer came back, " Take the battery." This was
excellent advice providing the battery would consent to
be captured. So, when Capitol strikes for higher
prices, the advice to Labor to make a counter strike for
higher wages, is merely an order to " take the battery."
The odds against us are too great, and the battery refuses
to be taken.
The other day I read, with much pleasure, that the
output of coal for this year was greater than last year
by about three million tons. Left to the natural laws of
trade and production this would give us cheaper coal
this winter, and that was the reason I rejoiced. The
coal dealers, in order to protect themselves against the
calamity of this abundant output, conspire to withold it
from the poor poor, and taking the coal owners into the
plot, they actually increased the price of coal when they
ought to lower it, and lay an extra tax of eight percent,
on every bushel of coal that the workingman must buy.
The rich man has already discounted the extortion.
He has laid in his winter's supply at the summer prices,
but the poor man is not able to do that; he must buy
his coal from week to week as he buys his bread.
As for me, it is only by force of the co-operative
principle that I am able to enjoy the luxury of coal at
all. My sons and I throw our wages all in together,
and one fire warms us all. Otherwise I must give up
either coal or bread. I shudder as I think of the long
winter impending over homes poorer than mine. I
heard a lecture once on chemistry, and the lecturer said
that coal was carbon sent here from the sun, that it was
nothing else than the sun's rays transformed by natural
chemistry into trees, and these again by decomposition
converted into coal. He said that in this way the rays
of the sun, shed upon the earth millions of years ago,
were concentrated and embalmed, to be liberated by
combustion into flame and heat, millions of years after-
wards, for the use and benefit of man. He said that not
a ray of sunshine that fell upon the earth was wasted,
but that nature had provided for the saving of it all.
The strike of the coal dealers to keep the dead rays of
the sun out of the poor man's home, only proves that
they would monopolize and tax the living sunshine if
they could. They would sell the air we breathe, the
green upon the grass, the perfume of the flowers, and
the songs of the birds; but let us rejoice that they are
not able to do that yet. As the swart blacksmith,
Ebenezer Elliott, used to sing at his anvil, so I sing at
my wheelbarrow,
Beneath the might of wicked men
The poor man's worth is dying,
But thanks to God, in spite of them,
The lark still warbles Hying.
The unbelievers tell us there is no place of future
punishment, but I cannot agree to that. There must
be a place " beyond Jordan " where fuel is cheap, where
sulphur can be had for nothing, and where coal dealers
who strike against the poor will be kept warm for ever.
Else there would be a gap in the moral universe where
a big chunk of justice had been knocked out.
THE MERIT AND VICE OF SYMPATHY.
BY CELIA PARKER WOOLLEY.
Sympathy is a merit or a vice, according to its effects
and the cause exciting it. It is so often followed by evil
results rather than good, its effect being to weaken in-
stead of strengthen the will, to enfeeble rather than
arouse a losing self-respect, that we may justly decline
to pronounce it always a virtue. The sympathy that
springs from the sentiment of justice, finding its motive
in a sincere desire to remedy some existing evil, is a real
THE OPEN COURT.
551
and needed force in the world, as much as electricity or
steam; but the sympathy that takes the form of extreme
compassion, unenlightened by the instinct of helpfulness,
does little but injury to the one receiving and the one
extending it.
There was numbered, once, among the professional
beggars of this city a well-known character, whose
peculiar form of appeal to the sympathies of
the community, made her universally dreaded and
disliked. She had a badly crippled wrist, which,
. by some dexterous twist of the muscles, she
was able to display in all its mangled ugliness,
producing a feeling of sickening disgust in the
beholder, which, even more than the emotion of pity,
also aroused, prompted him to place a coin in the out-
stretched hand and free himself from the unpleasant
sight. This woman throve, it was said, on the shame-
less exposure of this deformity, as we know others, like
her, make capital of their misfortunes, andare able to
earn a comfortable sustenance by the public display
made of a legless body crawling about the streets, or
some other unsightly distortion. More intelligent ideas
respecting the use and meaning of charity, are doing
away with these public outrages; but those who make
such bold and open demands upon our sympathies are
not confined to the mendicant class. There are many peo-
ple, comfortably clad and housed, and within the range
of our social acquaintance, whose chief trait is a nerve-
less inefficiency, which is constantly exacting gratuitous
services from others, and posing itself in some attitude
of helpless weakness and misfortune. I sympathize
with the remark I once heard from Mr. Powell, to the
effect that it is easier to dispose of the tramps, dressed
in rags, who come to the back door to beg his substance
than of those dressed in silk and broadcloth who come
through the front entrance to waste his time and patience.
It has become a settled maxim among the workers in
public charity that the most deserving objects of their
labors are those who never ask for help, and the same
principle holds good in the alleviation of moral maladies.
The man or woman of uncertain will and hesitating
conviction, swayed here and there by every breeze of
opinion, and constantly seeking the support of some
more self-reliant mind is the moral counterpart of the
practised beggar who makes daily round among a circle
of easy-minded benefactors for his board and lodging.
Unhappiness is naturally expansive, and we should be
patient with the fact that the unfortunate need our help
more than the fortunate, and that sorrow is less self-
dependent than joy; still I think it may be laid down as
a principle, admitting but few exceptions, that the soul
reduced to its last depths of suffering, temptation or des-
pair, is best left to itself awhile. Jesus bade his disciples
sleep, and departed to pass the hours of Gethsemane
alone, with no eye to watch the mortal agony which
preceded his supreme resolve. Man is his own best
helper, and he who acts on a contrary assumption neither
deserves nor will profit by the aid derived from others.
This is true not only in the work of public benevolence
but in our private relations with friend and family. It
is also true with regard to the relation we sustain to our-
selves— the care ami culture of the soul. For there i.s
such a thing as sympathizing too much with one's self.
" The worst of superstitions is to think one's own most
bearable," said Lessing. So, too, the worst effect of
suffering, no matter how real it be, is that which springs,
from the belief that no one's else was ever so great.
The egotism of the unhappy is greater than that of the
happy, and often more injurious in its effects. A just
realization of sorrow, as well as its highest benefit, is
reached when we have learned to bear it alone,
silently accepting it as part of the common heritage
of life and human experience. We ease the conscience
too readily with our swift and numerous excuses. The
apology contains a covert appeal to the injured person's
sympathy, and lightens the load of guilt by com-
pelling another to bear it with us. This is not to say
that the apology has not its uses, but only to caution
against the apologizing habit, which is employed as a
kind of moral salve to heal our wounded self-love, remov-
ing our own consciousness of error rather than its effects.
As it is with excuse-making, so it is with the habit
of continually seeking the advice and approval of others.
Often the greatest mistake we can commit is to seek that
counsel of another, which a little honest and hard think-
ing would readily procure for ourselves. The weakness
that leads to many of the so-called " confidences " be-
tween friends and acquaintance, is something we have
all had to blush for. The true friend is he who never
urges such confidences, but rather ignores our need of
them, helping us to be strong in ourselves. Howells, a
writer who owns a deeper moral purpose than many
give him credit for, has admirably illustrated this point
in his story of " A Modern Instance." Ben Halleck, a
young man of stainless soul and the highest ideals, de-
rived from a rigid Puritan ancestry, finds himself caught
in the meshes of an unholy passion. Writhing in shame
and misery he seeks his friend Atherton. The latter,
though he thoroughly understands the condition of
affairs, and is deeply moved and concerned for his friend,
declines to be made a confidant of, not to spare himself, but
as a heroic means to save Halleck. To the reproachful
remark, "You don't ask me what my trouble really is,"
Atherton makes reply, "I think you had better not tell me
your trouble. ... I doubt if it would help you to tell
it. I've too much respect for your good sense to sup-
pose it's an unreality ; and I suspect that confession would
only weaken you ... If you're battling with some
temptation, our self-betrayal, you must make the fight
alone. You would only turn to an ally to be flattered
552
THE OPEN COURT.
into the disbelief of your danger or your culpability."
The moral effect of open repentance and confession may
be noted in the scenes of the revival-room and the exper-
ience of those occupying the " anxious seat." Repent-
ance has become as easy as the upward swing of the pen-
dulum, and as sure to be followed by the downward
movement of a relaxed will and conscience. "Nothing
go^d is to be expected of those who acknowledge their
faults, repent and then sin again," says Balzac. "The
truly great acknowledge their faults to no one, but they
punish themselves accordingly." Goethe is credited with
words of similar import, "Every man must be his own
counsellor; the man who desires to be rid of an evil
knows what he wants."
Self-helpfulness is the great fundamental virtue which
each of us should set ourselves steadily to cultivate in
others. Sympathy, the power to enter into others' joys
and sorrows, is one of the finest graces of character, a
divine feeling which ennobles life more than any other;
but let us avoid the cultivation of the weak, drivelling
sentiment which often passes by that name, mindful that
the office of friendship, and of every human relation, is
like the physician's, which is neither to palliate nor
soothe the sufferings of his patients, but to cure them.
IDEALISM AND PHYSICAL SCIENCE.
BY VV. M. SALTER.
A leading scientific authority in England, Prof.
Balfour Stewart, brings forward a difficulty in the way
of accepting idealism that any defender of the theory
must honestly meet. Idealism means that the physical
world is reducible to sensations and exists only in a
sentient subject. So long, then, as this planet has had
sentient life on its surface, the world has had a real
existence. But what shall we say to the time before
there was any sentient existence, when not only our
earth, but all the other members of the solar system,
were but a fiery mist, a nebula, when living beings of
every sort, (unless we hold with Haeckel, that all matter
is " beseelt") were impossible? This time is far remote
and may be without any practical interest to us; but a
philosophical theory must be equal to all the facts, the
near and the far, and to the mind the remotest conceiv-
able past is as real as the present. Prof. Stewart
raised this difficulty a few years ago in the Contcmpor-
ary Review. "It is difficult to see," he said, "how the
idealist can regard this [pre-sentientj state of things as a
universe at all." And further, which is the same diffi-
culty in another form, "What idea," he asks, "can the
idealist entertain regarding the matter which we suppose
to exist in the central regions of the sun or of the earth
where there is no intelligent being to be directly
impressed with its presence?" Must idealism run out
into the absurdity that the primitive fiery mist did not
exist and that the centers of the sun and the earth are a
fiction? So the indignant defenders of what is some-
times called "scientific" philosophy, assert — as for
example, that penetrating and vigorous thinker, Dr.
Francis E. Abbot. Realism is the only philosophy
that is consistent with physical science, it is claimed.
But the difficulty which Prof. Stewart raises, is, I
am persuaded, not insuperable. What is the heat of a
fire on a man's own hearth, when he is out of the room
and there is perchance not a fly or a mosquito, or living
creature of any sort remaining? If anything is plainly
a sensation, it is heat. But what is the heat, when no
one feels it? Plainly it has a possibility of existence,
rather than a real existence. A man may know that
for a certain length of time he will experience heat,
whenever he goes into his room. During that length
of time he pictures the warmth and the glow as there,
though he does not feel them and may be numb with
cold. He pictures rightly, for should he go into the
room during that time, he would experience the heat.
It is not a false or an illusory, but a true picture; the
heat is there as a possibility all the time. Now, without
any effort we can conceive of a room with a fire in it,
which we do not enter at all, and no one enters, and no
one, so securely is it barred, could enter. The heat
would, neverthelesss be a possibility in it all the same.
I have looked into Mr. Hegeler's gigantic furnaces down
in La Salle; or rather, there were depths in them that I
could not look into; nothing could live there — yet there
was heat in those central depths, or (more strictly
speaking) such possibilities of heat, that, if the Hiberni-
cism may be pardoned, it would be impossible to endure
them.*
Now, as an idealist I believe in the heat of
the central regions of the sun, or of the earth, in
just the same; way that I believe in the heat of
the impassably-barred room and that of the
depths of Mr. Hegeler's furnaces. The heat at the
center of the earth is a real possibility; anyone could
experience it, if he could only get there and stay there
alive. It has not one thing in common with unreality or
illusion. And yet it is real only as a possibility, not as
anybody's actual experience.
And now for the next step. As I believe in the
possibility of sensations that I do not have and, practi-
cally speaking, cannot have, because I cannot make the
necessary transit in space, so I believe in the possibility
of sensations that I do not and cannot have, because
my existence does not go back far enough in time, and
nobody's does. If I or anybody had lived on the pre-
sentment globe, we should have seen and experienced just
what science tells us existed. If we could have lived in
the fiery mist or nebula, before there was any globe at
all, we should have known by experience what we can
* The apparent contradiction here is one of language, not of thought. The
"possibilities " are possibilities to the mind; the word "impossible" means, in the
connection, impossible to the body.
THE OPEN COURT
553
only know now by speculation or conjecture. "Science,"
so far as anybody calls it trustworthy in its reports,
gives us not a false or illusory, but a true picture; it tells
us what would have been our actual experience, could
we have lived at the time referred to. The heat and
color and motion, and whatever other qualities may be
ascribed to the primitive nebula were real; that is, they
were real (and not imaginary) possibilities; and they
would have been real, in the other sense, if anybody
had been, so to speak, on the scene. The past history
of the universe is just as much a fixed matter and just
as truly an object of exact study to the idealist as to the
most dogmatic realist; for it means what he or anyone
like him might have seen and heard and felt and
handled — and the possibilities of such experiences he
knows are not in the slightest degree determined by
himself. As he looks out on the sky now, he cannot
determine whether it shall be red or yellow or blue;
what he can experience is determined by something or
somebody else than himself. So he has no doubt it
would have been years and hundreds of thousands of
years ago. The sky and the earth and the whole
aspect and order of the world, though all are his experi-
ence, are an experience he cannot help having, that is
given to him, and that save in details he cannot change.
The past he cannot change at all. The possibilities of
experience there are absolutely fixed.
The same observations apply to the infinitessimal
elements of the world. Whether we consider molecules
as hypothetical entities, or, in Sir William Thomson's
words, " pieces of matter of measurable dimension, with
shape, motion, and laws of action, intelligible subjects of
scientific investigation," the idealistic theory adds not to
nor subtracts one particle from their reality. They
are real, to the idealist, as possibilities of experience;
it may be that with our present powers of sensation, we
cannot experience them, but if these powers were
indefinitely refined and heightened we might. It may
be that now we can only construct the molecules and
atoms in thought and cannot observe them; but we are
persuaded that if we could observe them (i. e., if th*ey
could be converted into actual sensations) we should
find them to be just what we had imagined them to be.
Neither extensively in space or time, nor intensively
as we try to penetrate to the elements of matter, does
idealism fail to be entirely consistent with physical
science. If science is synonymous with experience or
possible experience, idealism might more truly than
realism claim to be the much vaunted "scientific"
philosophy. Where are examples of finer, more pains-
taking, more microscopic investigation than those
afforded by the labors of a Huxley and a Helm-
holtz? Yet these men know that they are studying
their sensations (actual or possible) and nothing outside
of them.
MONISTIC MENTAL SCIENCE.
THE MECHANISM OF THE MIND.
BY S. V. CLEVENGER, M. D.
The single-celled organism is a wandering nomad,
but when several cells cohere, for a common life purpose,
the condition is that of a savage mob, until special abili-
ties develope in the separate cells; then the tribal condi-
tion arises. If these cells are not properly related to
one another, and food is unequally distributed, causing
many to perish while the few are surfeited, the animal
represents an absolute monarchy. When an advance is
made and the needs of the multitude are better supplied,
the condition resembles that of a limited monarchy. I
maintain (notwithstanding Haeckel's different view,)
that the republic is typified by a healthy homo sapiens, —
worthy of that specific title, composed of cells, altruisti-
cally, though mechanically, grouped into organs, no one
of which cells or organs demands or receives more than
sufficient to serve the good of all. A diseased state
would result otherwise, and if the surplus be among
intestinal organs then the government is for politicians
and privileged classes.
The ideal man may no more exist than does the
ideal republic; but theoretically the brain rules the body
in the interests and by the consent of all the bodily
units. If a specially favored controlling power arises in
such a government and the muscles or the alimentary
tract gain control we have the military or the mercan-
tile, the pugnacious or gluttonous dominance. The
evolution of nations, societies, species or individuals pro-
ceed over identical paths : The lowest animal is a de-
fenseless absorber of food ; a few steps higher in the
zoological series there is ferocity; higher still, cunning.
The human infant passes through the stages of milk
imbibing, savagery, barbarism, to more thoughtful man-
hood. Nations reach civilization by developing indus-
trialism which binds together workers intelligently and
considerately. When militancy prevails development is
arrested, the country is a lubberly school-boy with a
chip on his shoulder. The wise adult has outgrown his
childish greed and bellicosity, no longer lies, steals or
wastes time in buffoonery. He thinks. But, to think he
must have the apparatus for thinking. Printing, teleg-
raphy and rapid transit bring the individuals of a people
into sensible cooperation and the silly sword, gun and
clownish uniform finds less favor. The physical basis
of intelligence is proclaimed by two facts:
1. The nervous system relates the body cells to-
gether in the interests of all the cells oj the body.
2. The brain relates the nervous system more com-
plexly to the same end.
A direct ethical inference is, then, that charity, for-
giveness, considerateness, justice, etc., are expediency
outgrowths and that humanity is but a form of wisdom.
I would like to take my readers over the studies I have
554
THE OPEN COURT.
found so fascinating : Embryology, neurology and other
branches of biology ; but must resist the temptation to
ramble over this naturalists' paradise and keep within
the hedgerows of our text. We have not the time to
follow out the development of the nerves that ascend the
spinal cord to the head, the passage of touch nerves into
those for special sense with end organs such as the eye,
ear and nose; the accumulation of "commissures" or
connecting strands of nerves in the brain. You will find
those matters fairly treated by Wundt, Spencer, Bain
and the modern physiologists generallv.
Elongated, headless animals, through locomotion be-
coming easiest with one end first, gave rise to animals
with heads, as the eel, because the head end encountering
soonest the changes in the environment, differentiation
would be most likely to proceed at the head. The
special senses grouped themselves here instead of being
scattered as they are in lower forms of life. Motions
becoming oftenest regulated from the head a longitudinal
series of nerves sprang up which afterwards became the
lateral nerve columns of the cord, these relate the other
segments of the body with the special sense organs and
by enabling the body to be controlled mainly through
higher differentiated senses a decided advance is made
in the organism evolution.
The highest animals have the most complex nervous
systems; doubt, hesitation, thought or reason, essentially
the same process, exercise nerve centers that are more
nearly the protoplasmic state, such as the neuroglia;
greater heat is evolved, more blood is consumed and the
effort is attended by consciousness*. The spinal cord
gray matter undergoes this vibratory transfer and so
animals without heads may think, but when the tracts
are built up so as to make motions instinctive, such as
tossing off a fly from the hand, consciousness need not
be involved; the automatic apparatus works reflexly,
with less friction, less heat, less blood consumption, and
with but feeble sensation evolution.
In learning to play upon the piano the higher senses,
with touch, are brought into use; the routes through
the brain and cord to correlate the finger movements
are being established with difficulty. When the piece
is learned it may be played in the dark' with but the
finger touch sense to guide. A revolution has been
effected in the arrangement of the nerve strands in the
brain and adjustment of muscles in the arm and fingers
has also occurred. Reason was involved at the outset.
Instinct was the outcome and where certain invariable
causes produce in any animal invariable effects, brain
shapes may be thus built up and transmitted to progeny :
inherited; and as soon as the structural form of brain is
developed the animal will do what its mechanism has
been constructed to do, the chicken will peck as soon as
*Pro[. Herzen, Journal of Mtntal Sciw, London, April, 1884: "The intensity of
consoiouineis • in direct ratio to the intensity of functional disintegration."
it escapes from its shell. Dispositions and traits are
thus transmitted with the "intuitions," superstitions,
dexterities and stupidities.
We do but think what our molecular make up per-
mits us to do and think, and that make-up is the product
of our environment.
Assume that the nerves all over the body are in a
state of chemical agitation represented by 100,000,000
vibrations per second, io1 becomes the normal for
nerve activity, departures from which constitute sensa-
tion. Lowering of this normal produces numbness,
irregularity, pain. If from 50 to 1,400 interruptions
occur the feeling of touch is experienced; 45 to 40,000
constitute hearing; much more rapid interferences in-
duce sight sensations. Most of these impressions pro-
duce quivers diffused through the gray neuroglia of the
cord and brain, but when recurrences arrange the minute
molecules of that sensitive gray substance into little
lines, paths, tracts, fibrils, fasciculi, plexuses, memory is
evoked; the impression is recorded, and each such
impression produces in the brain a corresponding altera-
tion constant for the same cause.
In the back part of the brain, where sight impres-
sions are recorded, a peculiar eight-layered arrangement
of cells and fibrils is found; where hearing memories
are stored up, at the side of the brain, other distributions
occur. I am, for brevity sake, reduced to the necessity
of using coarse similes where precise details can be
given, and experience all the disgust of the engineer
who is obliged to forego technicalities and explain that
his complicated machine acts by the piston pushing
certain rods and wheels, when dozens of delicate princi-
ples must be unmentioned.
These stored-up recorded impressions are more com-
plexly united through nerve tracts that grow more and
more intricate as intelligence increases.
Roughly, then, suppose all the gas and water pipes,
sewers, mains, conduits or other things in a city, that
permit water to flow through them, were connected.
A certain pressure of water constantly trickling through
the smaller tubes and rushing along the larger would
represent the normal nerve flow. Interruptions in dif-
ferent degrees and for different lengths of time may be
likened to what occurs when a touch, sound, sight, taste
or smell is experienced. If there occur impediments
en route, and at first it is uncertain which route the
water will take, there is hesitation, which is reason,
doubt, thought. The facile passage of the current is
instinct, the route overcome.
Dropping the comparison, a thought works in the
brain slowly or swiftly by a succession of molecular
oscillations, and taking a brain region as a cube with
one side divided into areas- figured from 1 to 100, an-
other side lettered from A to Z, the remaining side
similarly lettered a to z, then one thought would be
THE OPEN COURT.
555
expressed by the flashing of atoms along' the irregular
route 7, L, n, 75,. and another R. 10, K. x., and so on.
Miscroscopical anatomists have mapped out hundreds
of thousands of these routes. The orderly mechanism
of the brain is being revealed, its laws are being un-
folded patiently, toilsomely, quietly, by skillful, learned
students, most of whom are steeped in bitter poverty;
who seek no notoriety, receive no assistance, whose
writings are read by the appreciative few; their contri-
butions swell the sum of human knowledge, and with
knowing that the world is better off for their having
lived they must be satisfied, as sole recompense.
SOME RELATIONS OF SCIENCE TO MORALITY
AND PROGRESS.
BY G. GORE, LL.D., F.R.S.
Part III.— Concluded.
A moderate rate of progress is desirable.
It would probably be more injurious than beneficial
if new knowledge was discovered very rapidly; inven-
tions and improvements would then succeed each other
quicker than we would be able to adapt ourselves to
them. It would harass mankind and disturb men's
beliefs faster than the new truths could be assimilated.
Ideas which have been strongly impressed upon the
brain are almost indelible, and it is a painful process to
alter one's old opinions, whether the new ones are more
truthful or not. All men, even the most learned, are
necessarily more or less ignorant, and entertain in differ-
ent degrees untruthful ideas. Many persons prefer to
believe, not what is true, but what they wish to be so;
many minds also are not sufficiently strong to bear
unwelcome truths. The common readiness to believe
flattering ideas arises from human weakness. False
beliefs are inseparable from limited brains and finite
knowledge.
To believe that which is untrue usually leads to
wrong conduct; nevertheless, false beliefs often afford
very great consolation, and it would be cruel to sud-
denly force, without sufficient justification, more truth-
ful doctrines upon persons whose minds are unable to
receive them ; mankind would resist it. The ideas of a
devil and of eternal punishment were useful in their
time. Our feeble minds often require strong stimulants;
without the extra stimulus of exaggerated expectations
and the hope of unreasonable rewards, men would often
deviate from the path of duty ; they would also fail in
their occupations and neglect to attempt great objects.
The man who exalts his calling is frequently the one
who succeeds in it. Much good has also been done by
persons acting under the influence of Utopian ideas.
Some of the earliest facts in chemistry were discovered
by men who were stimulated by the hope of finding the
"elixir of life," the "philosopher's stone," etc. As
there is a limit to the power of our brains to receive
newj impressions and to obliterate old ones, before a
new generation can establish new ideas the previous
/generation, with its old impressions, must die out, and
thus the rate of intellectual and moral advance is depend-
ent upon scientific conditions; viz. the properties of our
brains and the duration of human life. Fixity of cerebral
impressions is thus largely the cause of the stability of
error and ignorance, and helps to moderate the speed of
progress.
Science encourages general truthfulness.
One of the greatest moral qualities is truthfulness,
and this is highly necessary to correct conduct. In
order to acquire this virtue there is probably no course
of discipline equal to that of original experimental
research. In such occupation the mind must be imbued
with correct views and be free from bias, and if the
investigator is not very truthful the results he obtains
will disagree with each other, and he will not succeed
in discovering new knowledge. Ignorance and untruth-
fulness are closely associated; without intelligence a
high degree of truthfulness is hardly possible, and sci-
ence by diffusing accuracy is highly conducive to moral-
ity. In dogmatic subjects untruths may be told with
impunity, because they cannot be disproved, but in sci-
entific ones proper and sufficient evidence must be
adduced.
It is to be hoped that ministers of religion will exten-
sively study the essential relations of the great laws and
phenomena of science to morality and righteousness,
with the object of permanently reconciling science and
religion. It is only through insufficiency of proper
investigation that the matter is so little understood.
Many books have been written on the subject by devout
persons, but they appear to have been usually composed
by those having insufficient acquaintance with the chief
principles of science; without a knowledge of those
principles we cannot arrive at the foundation of things.
A complete scientific system of morality remains to be
written.
The rate of advance in civilization is afxed one.
It is almost as impossible to live greatly in advance
of one's time as very much behind it. The rate of
human progress is probably as fixed and invariable a
quantity and governed by as immutable laws as that of
the motion of the earth in its orbit, and the man who
attempts to move either very much faster or slower than
the mass of mankind has to succumb to it. As an angel
would not be permitted by men to live among them,
because his actions would be misconstrued, so an advanced
scientific philosopher is barely allowed to exist in the
midst of an ordinary community.
Difficulties of the pioneers of new knowledge.
The man who devotes himself very largely to original
philosophical experiments and research is one who lives
somewhat in advance of his time, and is largely misun-
556
THE OPEN COURT.
derstood and victimized by his fellows. By many pro-
fessedly good persons he is considered an atheist, whereas
the practical disbelievers in divine truth are those who
neglect to study the sacred laws by which infinite power
and goodness regulates the universe and themselves.
By some exponents ot science, less devoted to research
and more to the pursuit of money than himself, he is
misrepresented as a sponger and scientific mendicant and
as having his sustenance and expenses provided for him
by others, while the actual fact is that all the researches
he makes, whether with aid or without it, are made at a
considerable pecuniary loss to himself, which has to be
made up from his own resources. Some other expos-
itors of science, either through less experience in original
work or through fixity of ideas produced by long con-
tinued teaching, are unable to accept his discoveries if
they happen to only appear to conflict with orthodox
science, and thus become his most influential opponents.
A research made by a deity would probably be rejected
as utterly false by all existing teachers of science. Pure
traders in scientific knowledge detract from his reputa-
tion by misrepresenting his labors as non-practical, and
the mass of the community can scarcely at all under-
stand him. Manufacturers, traders, inventors, science
lecturers, scientific experts and others take the knowl-
edge he discovers, use it for the purpose of getting
money, influence, etc., and there being no law to compel
them, neglect with impunity to make him compensa-
tion. While, also, his labors reflect honor and indirectly
confer other advantages upon his fellow citizens, muni-
cipal and other public bodies treat him as an unknown
person, and neglect to give him professional employ-
ment. By thus injuring his moral character, represent-
ing him as an impostor, condemning his discoveries as
untrue and withholding from him remunerative employ-
ment and payment for his labors, etc., his fellow-men
diminish his usefulness to mankind, and unless he has
private means of his own, cut short his existence, or, as
in the case of Priestley, compel him to leave his country.
In olden times his difficulties were even greater. As
nearly all these effects arise from human imperfections
and deficiency of knowledge the question how to do
justice to the scientific discoverer is a difficult problem,
and can only be satisfactorily settled when men are
more enlightened. Meanwhile, "the ills which can't be
cured must be endured."
Present imperfect state of morality.
The age of physical spoliation is passing away, but
that of mental dishonesty continues. In olden times
wealth was frequently obtained by violence, strong
men took by physical force the material property of the
weak; evidence of this still exists in the ruined feudal
castles dotted all over the land; these were the strong-
holds of robbers; might was treated as right, and the
justification for violence was necessity.
A similar imperfect state of morality still remains with
regard to new scientific knowledge, every one appropri-
ates it, but scarcely any one gives any recompense to its
originators, and this circumstance is the less noticed
because such knowledge is not a tangible or salable com-
modity. There is much legal protection for traders, a little
for inventors, but none for discoverers; and it would be
useless to patent unsalable knowledge, however intrin-
sically valuable it may be. Might is thus treated as
right, and the discoverer is a legally defenseless person.
The maxim constantly acted upon by the ordinary
tradesman is "to buy in the cheapest and sell in the
dearest market," or, in other words, to get the most he
can, and give the least possible in return ; and all legally
defenseless property is treated by him as a fair object of
gain. The pure trader in scientific knowledge also
appears to act upon a similar rule. Comparatively few
men will pay in cases where there is only a moral and
no legal obligation to do so; but notwithstanding this,
the English nation is at least as honest as any other;
trading in knowledge also is a justifiable occupation,
and some of the most eminent discoverers have engaged
in it whether it diminished their usefulness to mankind
or not.
New scientific knowledge must be free.
The plea for this very general spoliation of scientific
investigators is compulsion, and this defense is a true
one; throughout nature, less important interests are
compelled to yield to those more important, the few
must yield to the many, and the interests of discoverers
will be sacrificed to those of mankind in general until
remedies are applied. Life must be maintained; knowl-
edge is indispensable to our existence, second only in
degree of urgency to physical food ; without the neces-
sary knowledge, inventions and improvements for pub-
lic benefit could not be made, and incomes could not be
obtained; in consequence also of fierce competition and
the urgent necessity to get money, each manufacturer
and tradesman is stimulated to use every available
means of success. The free taking of new knowledge,
therefore, is highly desirable for the public good, and
the real objection is not to the free use of the discoverers'
property, but to the withholding from him compensa-
tion. Even when we have done our best to remedy
this pecuniary injustice to investigators, there will
always remain pioneers of truth, whose researches the
mass of mankind will be unable to justly appreciate.
Suggestions for improvement.
When manufacturers or traders derive large incomes
by means of applied science they rarely render any
equivalent to original research. Who ever heard of a
manure manufacturer, a nickel smelter, a petroleum dis-
tiller, an electroplater, an India rubber worker, an elec-
tric telegraph manufacturer, a phosphorus maker, an
electric copper refiner, a calico printer or bleacher giving
THE OPEN COURT.
557
even a single thousand pounds to original experimental
research? Such an event has probably never happened
in any country, notwithstanding that numerous large for-
tunes have been realized in those occupations, and the
occupations themselves would never have existed but for
such research. In this way patriotism has been forgot-
ten, national welfare and justice have been largely sacri-
ficed to individual advantage, and a most fundamental
source of the prosperity of nations has been crippled.
For instance, a man gains £300,000 by the manufacture
of vulcanized India rubber, and bequeaths nothing to
promote scientific discovery, which largelv enabled him
to gain his riches. Similar examples exist in all direc-
tions. Immense sums are bequeathed, largelv to per-
petuate error, but little to discover truth. A professor-
ship of original scientific research has never vet been
endowed in any college in any country. These remarks
are made as suggestions for improvements.
Prospect of greater national happiness.
Nearly every man seeks to obtain as much money as
possible, often regardless of injury to his nation, and not
infrequently with the ultimate effect of diminishing his
own happiness. In many cases the man who pursues
money becomes at length a mere machine for getting it,
and shortens his life in the process. In many cases
money has been obtained too easily, and the sons of the
wealthy have not been properly disciplined. Wealth
has accumulated and men have decayed. The pursuit of
wealth, however, has now become less successful ; we
can no longer so readily obtain it without making equiv-
alent sacrifice. Success of another kind is now approach-
ing. All our material wants are becoming satisfied; — by
means of the telegraph, steam locomotion and freezing-
machines all the chief articles of food are imported
cheaply; by means of scientific discoveries and the inven-
tions founded upon them nearly all manufactured arti-
cles commonly required are made in great quantities, and
are also che^ip. When these more pressing material
wants are sufficiently provided for men will more readily
seek the purer happiness derivable from knowledge.
In fact, the era of knowledge has already commenced.
As civilized nations have benefited materially by the
industrial pursuit of money, in" the application of coal
and steam to manufacturing purposes, may they also
now secure the unlimited mental, moral and physical
happiness obtainable by means of new knowledge.
THE MYSTERY OF GRAVITY.
BY GEORGE STEARNS.
It is notorious that the word "attraction" is generally
so employed in the literature of science as to purport
the physical cause of gravity. Yet no expositor of
physics has attempted to demonstrate that part of the
theory which this item of its terminology denotes;
unless privately, to be convinced of its falsity. On
what principle, then, has the deceptive vogue obtained?
Can the agents of this apparent dissimulation render a
better reason therefor than that assigned by its original
exemplifier (Newton), who adopted a misnomer of his
own thought, and tolerated the " notion of attraction "
merely as "a convenient means of regarding the sub-
ject?" Here is the sole gist of their exculpation. But
even this plausible excuse is inadequate; since the word
gravitation expresses all that is phenomenally known
of the subject, whereas the word "attraction" signifies
fictitiously more than is known, or rather what is known
to be false. All know that matter gravitates, but why
it gravitates is an open question which the talk of
attraction insidiously and mischievously forecloses.
However, Newton's patronage of that provisional
appellation was ingenuous and discriminate; which is
hardly putative of his nominal disciples, the majority of
whom have thus far conserved the hasty designation ot
his thought without ever mentioning his later protest
against its unqualified application. This protest is still
extant as an item of correspondence, wherein he wrote
very earnestly : " You sometimes speak of gravity as
essential and inherent to matter. Pray, do not ascribe
that notion to me, for the cause of gravity is what I do
not pretend to know." But that prayer has been very
generally ignored, or else viciously unheeded. Theo-
rists, ostensibly Newtonian, seem to have conspired ever
since the demise of Newton, which occurred 160 years
ago, to embezzle the influence of his name in support of
the very "notion " which he so strenuously renounced.
In fact, of all the reputed votaries of physical science,
so far as I have been able to learn, less than half a dozen
have made good their claim to exemption from the fore-
going indictment. These are well-known exponents of
science proper, whose professional careers have been
fairly signalized by success. It is proper to say, how-
ever, that in relation to the rationale of gravity, they
have declared themselves purely agnostic, in the vein of
Newton's protest cited above; and this fact is what sub-
stantiates their claim to be respected as the genuine
advocates and expositors of his superb discovery, which
the loose talk of his would-be disciples about " the New-
tonian theory of gravity" tends only to obscure. It
was not that — the principle according to which gravity
obtains — but the law of gravitation, the gist of which
was yet to be conceived; and if in formulating this law
he employed the word attraction, he soon detected his
error and did what he could to cancel it.
It may not be generally known that Mr. Herbert
Spencer has deliberately and unequivocally classed him-
self with the few eminent scientists who side with
Newton in repudiating "the notion of attraction" as
identified with gravity. In Vol. II. p. 409, Principles
of Psychology, this remark occurs:
55§
THE OPEN COURT.
" Mr. Mill says that Newton held an etherial me-
dium to be a necessary implication of observed facts;
but that it is not now held to be a necessary implication.
I do not think, however, that scientific men 'have at
last learnt to conceive the sun attracting the earth with-
out any intervening fluid;' any more than they have
learnt to ' conceive the sun illuminating the earth with-
out some such medium.' The most that can be said is
that they have given up attempting to conceive how
gravitation results. If, however, an astronomer avowed
that he could conceive gravitative force as exercised
through space absolutely void, my private opinion
would be that he mistook the nature of conception."
" Would gravitation have any existence if there
were but one particle in the universe, or does it sud-
denly come into existence when a second particle ap-
pears? Is it an attribute of matter, or is it due to some-
thing between the particles of matter?"
These two double questions are taken from an article
in Chambers's Encyclopedia (supposed to have been
written by Balfour Stewart). They are consistent with
no implicit faith in "the notion of attraction;" and the
latter of the two implies an inkling of the pertinent
truth, which Dr. Grove also insinuates in a single
instance in his essay on " The Correlation of Physical
Forces," thus :
" Would two bodies gravitate toward each other in
empty space, if space can be empty? The notion that
they would is founded on the theory of attraction, which
Newton himself repudiated, further than as a convenient
means of regarding the subject."
The implied inference from ipse dixit which this
quotation involves is somewhat equivocal; for what is
here called a "theory" Newton called a "notion" and
treated as a figment. Dr. Grove was in a quandary,
which a slightly different view of the subject, such as
Dr. Faraday excogitated, might have prevented. In an
essay of the latter on " The Conservation of Force," as
if responding to both parties cited above, this eminent
physicist remarked:
" For my own part, many considerations urge my
mind toward the idea of a cause of gravity which is not
resident in the particles of matter merely, but constantly
in them and in all space."
To say that was almost to hit the nail on its head.
Nevertheless, the same thinker wrote afterward:
"As to the gravitating force, I do not presume to
say that I have the least idea what occurs in two parti-
cles when their power of mutually approaching each
other is changed by their being placed at different dis-
tances; but I have a strong conviction, through the
influence on my mind of the doctrine of conservation,
that there is a change; and that the phenomena resulting
from the change will probably appear some day as the
result of careful research."
The drift of Faraday's argument is, that the mask
of gravity by the notion of physical attraction conflicts
with the cosmic dynamic principle whereof gravity is a
species; that thus self- impugned, the conceit of attrac-
tion is exploded. He maintains the deductive judgment —
"That there should be a power of gravitation exist-
ing by itself, having no relation to the other natural
powers and no respect to the law of the conservation of
force, is as little likely as that there should be a principle
of levity as well as of gravity. * * * So we must
strive to learn more of this outstanding power, and
endeavor to avoid any definition of it which is incompati-
ble with the principle of force generally, for all the
phenomena of nature lead us to believe that the great
and governing law is one. I would much rather incline
to believe that bodies affecting each other by gravitation
act by lines of force of definite amount, or by an ether
pervading all space, then admit that the conservation
of force could be dispensed with."
The phrase "by an ether pervading all space," which
I have italicized as significant, but which he wrote with
indifference, suggests the rare possibility of hitting the
nail on its head without knowing it. But I must say
that Faraday was the most expectant of all his com-
peers in the line of inquiry here treated of.
Some three years ago I cut from a newspaper the
subjoined bit of a reported lecture by Prof. C. A.
Young, the reputable occupant of the astronomic chair
in Princeton College.
" Do not understand me at all as saying that there is
no mystery about the planets' motions. There is just
the one single mystery — gravitation — and it is a very
profound one. How it is that an atom of matter can
attract another atom, no matter how great the disturb-
ance, no matter what intervening substance there may
be; how it will act upon it, or at least behave as if it
acted upon, it I do not know, I cannot tell. Whether
they are pztshed together by means of an intervening
ether, or what is the action, I cannot understand."
Another instance of blurting the truth unawares, as
denoted by 1113' italics. Such an avowal as overlays this
seemingly unpurposed suggestion is commendable for
the frankness and fidelity to conviction by which it
must have been prompted ; and if not so appreciable as
an announcement of successful research, its compensa-
tion is assured by its incitement to docility of aspiration,
which it is wise to cherish and every functionary of
popular education should cultivate as an essential con-
duit of intelligence. If all the reputed spokesmen of
science proper would act their special parts as well as
did Professor Young in the instance adverted to, by
telling the credulous world precisely what they knozv,
beyond which they merely guess, as to the physical
cause of gravity, I fancy the tables would be turned,
and that the list of scientists who side with Newton in
THE OPEN COURT.
559
rejecting the surreptitious "notion" as unscientific would
shortly outnumber its half-earnest supporters.
But the issue of such an ordeal would not be final.
The negative truth here sought is brought to light by a
process of reasoning from other data. I have cited sev-
eral documentary affirmations of personal conviction that
the conceit of physical attraction is 'inexplicable. And to
this testimony of five unimpeachable witnesses there is
positively no counteracting evidence. For I dare say
if all the nominal abettors of the said vulgar notion
were summoned to this court of negative inquest, their
undisputed depositions would verge to a tall}' with that
of the younger Herschel, who in all his writings
adverted to gravitation only as " that mystery of mys-
teries." How differs the mysterious from the inexplic-
able? Yet Sir John constantly plied the policy of sup-
posititious explication, practically blind to the fact that
the mystery of gravity is only aggravated by misconceit
of its process. So, too, even Newton seems never to
have asked himself why it should be more "convenient"
I to regard a subject in the fictitious light of unwarrant-
able assumption than in the apprehended murk of mys-
tery. Yet his virtual reply to all the foregoing queries
of his aptest disciples, shows that he came nearer than
any of them to comprehending the principle of their
common seeking. I am indebted to Faraday for the
following citation from Newton's third letter to Bentley,
wherein Sir Isaac abjured the figment of material attrac-
tion which some of his contemporaries too willingly
imputed to him. There is no mistaking the import of
his labored expression in these two sentences:
" That gravity should be innate, inherent and essen
tial to matter, so that one body may act upon another
at a distance, through a vacuum, without the mediation
of anything else by and through which their action and
force may be conveyed from one to another, is to me so
great an absurdity, that I believe no man who has in philo-
sophical matters a competent faculty of thinking, can
ever fall into it. Gravity must be caused by an agent,
acting constantly according to certain laws; but whether
this agent be material or immaterial, I have left to the
consideration of my readers."
" There you have it plain and flat." Newton saw
that the notion of physical attraction is absurd. He did
not reject it for being inexplicable, but because he dis-
cerned in it the lineaments of impossibility; for what-
ever is absurd is impossible. According to his view of
the matter, bodies fall when unsupported, not because
the earth pulls them down, but in effect of being pushed
downward by an invisible and to him unknown agency,
the substantive nature and modus agcndioi which nothing
but his supposititious theory of light prevented him
from conceiving. But since Newton's day an important
discovery has been made through which the fact of
gravitation may be rationally accounted for. This item
of phvsical science pertains to "the luminiferous ether,"
whose ascertained dynamic properties verify its fit-
ness to serve as the secondary cause of gravity.
SONNET.
BY GOWAN LEA.
THE FIRST SNOW.
The harvest now is o'er; the fields are bare;
And yonder is the ploughman on the hill;
The water freezes in the purling rill;
Bleak desolation meets me everywhere.
Grey threatening sky; a frost)- atmosphere;
The haws o'er-ripe are falling from the trees;
A fairy snow-flake floating on the breeze,
Announces that the winter-king is near.
The withered leaves are moaning as I go,
A requiem for the sweet season dead;
Each little flower is hiding from the snow,
And happy, happy swallows — all are fled.
My spirit turns away : with other eyes,
I still can see the blue — the summer skies.
"Discussion is the bulwark of truth." — Morrell.
" Hollow trees are always the stiffest." — Magoon.
" Earnest men are too few in the world." — Dxcight.
"All noble-minded men are inclined to sadness." —
Aristotle.
"The Lord never gave mouths without bread to
put in them."
"The spade digs a deeper hole than the lightning."
— Horace Mann.
" I will oblige my daughters to marry for love." —
J\Iadaiue de Star/.
" The greatest homage we can pay to truth is to
use it." — Emerson.
The mother of John Wesley tried to console a poor
widow with the saw:
"Leave the world better for your having lived in
it." — Abraham Lincoln.
" Tramp upon your feelings when principle is at
takes."—/?r. S. J. Wilson.
" Do not mistake freedom from thinking for free
thinking."—/)/-. J/. W. Jacobus.
" Aweel," returned she, "but he gives the mouths to
the poor and the bread to the rich."
"Happiness is the congruity between a creature's
nature and its circumstances." — Bishop Butler.
" We have no reason to fear that the poor and unfort-
unate will ever receive too much attention." — Mrs. E.
C. Stanton.
" It is remarkable with what Christian resignation
and fortitude we can bear the sufferings of other folks."
— Dean Swift.
560
THB OPEN COURT.
The Open Court.
A Fortnightly Journal.
Published every other Thursday at 169 to 175 La Salle Street (Nixor
Buildingi, corner Monroe Street, by
THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY
B. F. UNDERWOOD,
EditCr and Manager.
SARA A. UNDERWOOD,
Associate Editor.
The leading object of The Open Court is to continue
the work of The Index, that is, to establish religion on the
basis of Science and in connection thi rewith it will present the
Monistic philosophy. The founder cf this journal believes this
will furnish to others what it has to him, a religion which
embraces all that is true and good in the religion that was taught
:n childhood to them and him.
Editorially, Monism and Agnosticism, so variously defined,
will be treated not as antagonistic systems, but as positive and
negative aspects of the one and only rational scientific philosophy,
which, the editors hold, includes elements of truth common to
all religions, without implying either the validity of theological
assumption, or any limitations of possible knowledge, except such
as the conditions of human thought impose.
The Open' Court, while advocating morals and rational
religious thought on the firm basis of Science, will aim to substi-
tute for unquestioning credulity intelligent inquiry, for blind faith
rational religious views, for unreasoning bigotry a liberal spirit,
tor sectarianism a broad and generous humanitarianism. With
this end in view, this journal will submit all opinion to the crucial
test of reason, encouraging the independent discussion by able
thinkers of the great moral, religious, social and philosophical
prohlems which are engaging the attention of thoughtful minds
and upon the solution of which depend largely the highest inter-
ests of mankind.
While Contributors are expected to express freely their own
views, the Editors are responsible only for editorial matter.
Terms of subscription three dollars per year in advance,
postpaid to any part of the United States, and three dollars and
fifty cents to foreign countries comprised in the postal union.
All communications intended for and all business letters
relating to The Open Court should be addressed to B, F
Underwood, Treasurer, P. O. Drawer F, Chicago, 111., to whom
should be made payable checks, postal orders and express orders.
THURSDAY, NOVEMBER to, 18S7.
RELIGION UPON A SCIENTIFIC BASIS.
Our able and always instructive Unitarian contempo-
rary, the Christian Register, after quoting from Col. T.
W. Higginson's article, which lately appeared in The
Open Court, says: "Mr. Adleris as positive as Col.
Higginson in seeing the inability of science to take the
place of those supreme ethical motives which lie at the
very heart of religion."
We are not aware that anybody expects " science to
take the place of those supreme ethical motives which
lie at the very heart of religion." But are not these
ethical motives a part of the natural order? Are they
not related to the past and the present ? Do they not
reveal themselves in character and conduct? Are they
not within the region of law and causation? And can
they not, therefore, be studied, and knowledge of them
be included in a scientific conception of religion? Un-
less volition is lawless, it can be made a subject of ra-
tional study; unless it is supernatural, forming no part
of the sequent order of phenomena, it belongs to the
domain of science, and "those supreme ethical motives
pamphlet, entitled "Souvenir — 15th Annual Conven-
which lie at the very heart of religion " are part of the
data to be carefully considered in a scientific study of
religion.
When we speak of religion on a scientific basis, we
mean a conception of religion that will stand the test of
science, that accords with all the facts of religious his-
tory and religious experience, and that is in harmony
with all demonstrable knowledge. All phenomena are
related, and all the sciences are but portions of one
science — the science of the universe. Religious thought,
motive and practice belong to the phenomena of human
life, and must be included in the sciences of anthropol-
ogy. A scientific study of religion is one which takes
into consideration all systems of religion, their special
and general features, their ethical and nonethical charac-
teristics; a scientific conception of religion can have no
other basis than knowledge of all obtainable facts in
regard to religious thought, feeling and action.
We are aware that there are those who say with
Schleirmacher : "Religion belongs neither to the do-
main of science nor morals, is essentially neither knowl-
edge nor conduct, but emotion only, specific in its nature
and inherent in the immediate consciousness of each in-
dividual man." Religion primarily, is, no doubt, emo-
tion, but out of this which is fundamental in religion
have grown vast systems of thought mixtures of truth
and error, and complex forms of worship, more or less
irrational. Reflective thought, through countless ages,
exciting a multitude of emotions and adding vastly to
the wealth of man's emotional nature, has added to the
complexity of the religious sentiment, and infused into
it elements derived from intellectual and moral exper-
ience; so that in the enlightened mind, with the primary
religious feeling, is intimately associated and interwoven,
much which belongs to the latest acquired and the best
part of human nature. And this religion with many to-
day means the essential elements of ethics, with ethical
motives supreme.
All these facts, and a multitude of others, in regard to
the development of the religious sentiment, as well as of
religious dogmas, must be considered in a scientific study
of religion. Regarded as emotion merely, religion is a
proper subject for stud}' by the scientific method. It is
only by giving to science a verv narrow definition, one
wholly unwarranted, that emotional experience can be
excluded from its domain. Science is classified knowl-
edge; knowledge of many facts grouped and arranged,
so as to form a basis for induction and data for rational
conclusions, and to reveal relations and principles, to
which the facts viewed separately give no clue.
" Thought is the property of those only who can
entertain it." — R. W. Emerson.
THE OPEN COURT.
5«i
ASSOCIATIONS FOR THE ADVANCEMENT OF
WOMEN.
We are in receipt of an artistically gotten up
tion of the Association for the Advancement of
Women, Invited and Entertained by Sorosis, October
26th, 27th and 2Sth, 1SS7," which contains a short sketch
of the history of Sorosis and its offspring — the "Associa-
tion for the Advancement of Women," or " Women's
Congress."
The meeting just held in New York, — the second
held in that city — was one of the most successful, Julia
Ward Howe, presiding, and the receptions given to the
Congress by the Sorosis Club and by Madam Demorest
were delightful in many ways, and especially as indica-
tive of the admiration women can feel for one another.
One excellent point in the work of this Association is
touched upon by a colored member, who reports the
meetings for the Conservator, the organ of the colored
people of this city: "The statistics relating to clubs, to
literary, scientific and practical methods for women
help included every species of work and every device
for the welfare of humanity, without race or sex
discrimination, as fearlessly asserted and approbated
and were the words of forceful import that com-
mended themselves to the colored women members
of the congress."
Margaret Fuller, in 1S39, began her " Conversa-
tions " in Boston, the motive of which she explains in a
letter to her friend, Mrs. Ripley, in these words:
" The advantages of a weekly meeting for conversation
might be great enough to repay attendance if they con-
sisted only in supplying a point of union to well-educated
and thinking women, in a city which, with great pre-
tensions to mental refinement, boasts nothing of the
kind; and where I have heard many of mature age
wish for some such place of stimulus and cheer; and
those younger for a place where they could state their
doubts and difficulties with a hope of gaining aid from
the experience or aspirations of others." These " Con-
versations " were continued for five winters, and were
devoted to the study of the best French, German,
Italian, and English literature, and mythology, the fine
arts, ethics and education. These "Conversations"
were then the result of a demand on the part of women
for exchange of thought, and a longing for wider
knowledge.
But it is not quite twenty years ago that the organi-
zation of women into clubs (as exclusive of men as
hitherto male clubs had been of women ) began in this
country. The agitation of the Woman's Suffrage
question had doubtless been one of the primal causes
which made such organizations necessary for the advance-
ment of the sex. In the pamphlet before us "Sorosis" is
claimed as the " first regularly organized Women's Club
in America," but the movement was almost simultane-
ous with that of the organization of the " New England
Woman's Club," which ante-dated that of Sorosis
nearly two months. That club was organized on the
16th of Februarv, 1S68, and " Sorosis" on the 13th of
April of the same year. The A. A. \V., or Woman's
Congress, which meets annually in a sort of Missionarv-
of-Culture way, in some one of the leading cities of the
United States, was an outcome of Sorosis, which, in 1873,
with the design to bring together in this way the repre-
sentative women of the country, sent circulars of invita-
tion to join such a congress to three hundred women in
all parts of the United States, " that unitedly they might
take into careful consideration the many important ques-
tions that affect the life and happiness of women."
The meetings of the Congress have so far been held in
the cities of New York, N. Y., Chicago, 111., Syracuse,
X.Y., Philadelphia, Pa., Cleveland, Ohio, Providence,
R. I., Madison, Wis., Boston, Mass., Buffalo, N. Y.,
Portland, Me., Baltimore, Md., Des Moines, Iowa, and
Louisville, Kentucky.
The influence toward the advancement of women
which this Congress, tho' meeting but once a year, has
exerted may be inferred, not only from the constantly
increasing formation • of Women's Clubs all over the
country, but from the high tone and wide scope of the
papers read and subjects discussed at the Congress.
In addition to many essays on the matters heretofore
considered asspecially belonging to "woman's sphere," —
those, for example, pertaining to home, society, dress,
mission and church work, education and charity — there
has been, since the organization of this Association, such
and kindred topics treated as " Co-education of the
Sexes," " The Higher Education of Woman," " Wo-
man in the Church and in the Pulpit," "The Medical
Education of Women," " Women in the Legal Pro-
fession," " Women's Need of Business Education,"
' Women in the Laboratory," " Women's place in
Government," " Women in Journalism," " Political
Education of Women," " Women and Land," " The
Comparative Longevity of the Sexes," " The Bramo-
Somaj Movement in Relation to Women," " Educa-
tion in Industrial Art," "What Practical Science is
open for Women," "Need of Women Physicians for
the Insane," "What is Money ?" "Political Economy,"
"Organization as Related to Civilization," " Our
Museums and our Investigators," "Cooperation,"
"Zoology," "Botany," "Bee Culture," "The Physical
Basis of the Mind," " The Chinese Question," "Hered-
ity," " Labor and Capital," "Saturn," "Education and
Training of Indian Women," "A Study of Hegel,"
"The Unity of Science," and "Marriage and Divorce."
Since the establishment of Sorosis and the New-
England Woman's Club, and more particularly since
the meetings of the Woman's Congress have been
held, a new impetus, altogether unknown before has
562
THE OPEN COURT.
been given to the organization of women for the pur-
poses of higher culture and the advance of their sex.
Women everywhere begin to recognize what men long
ago understood, the fact that unitedly they can accom-
complish a hundred-fold more than when working,
however earnestly, alone. In all these clubs which are
not only established in the leading cities, but in many
smaller towns, the leading questions of the day, evo-
lution, sociology, labor and capital, the sciences, educa-
tional topics, as well as the highest philosophy and
literature, are discussed in a thoughtful comprehensive
manner, held a few decades since to be impossible
among women; and women are finding a keen delight
in studies hitherto denied to them. The most stupid
among such club members cannot fail to have her mind
broadened, her knowledge increased, and her enthusiasm
enkindled by listening to the discussion of such subjects,
even if she take no active part; and the advance in
knowledge of each woman means a distinct ratio of
advance in the race.
As adjuncts of these clubs, classes are formed for the
stud}* of certain writers or subjects, as of architec-
ture, politics, political economy, literature and science —
and from them emanate working associations for edu-
cational, reformatory, charitable and philanthropic insti-
tutions. So we should hail with delight these associa-
tions for the advancement of women, for such every
phase of these women clubs may be called ; and let us
also hope for the day when, through these, male clubs
may take a higher aim than mere social refreshment,
and then men's and women's clubs may become amal-
gamated into associations for the advancement of hu-
manity, s. a. u.
The International Congress of Freethinkers, at
London, decided on September 10, by a vote of twenty-
eight to four, in conformity with the opinion of Dr.
L. Buchner, that the attitude of secular instruction
towards religion should not be hostile, but neutral, a
conclusion which agrees perfectly with the method
adopted in the Open Court, of displacing error by
teaching positive truth. At the closing session, on Sep-
tember 12, the Congress adopted a resolution urging
freethinkers to take an active interest in all political,
industrial and commercial questions, but not to let them-
selves be identified as a body with any socialistic or
anti-socialistic theory.
* * #
The Albany Law Journal reprints our editorial on
"Anarchy and the Anarchists," and calls it "a very mod-
erate article, well and discreetly written," but it seems
to have had but little or no effect on our legal contem-
porary, who thinks hanging is " the best use to make of
such assassins and dastards." But the Legal Adviser
of this city, has sounder and more humane views on this
subject. We agree with it when it says:
This is not alone a question of clemency; it is a question ot
public interest. It is demanded by men of sensational minds
prone to fear, that these seven men be executed and their lives
terminated, lest serious consequences of riot and bloodshed may
follow, which would be subdued from the example of their exe-
cution. To this it is answered, that such men entirely mistake
the philosophy of the human mind. These men are convicted
on the testimony which is disputed vigorously by multitudes of
men; if, therefore, their sentence is commuted, it will be viewed
by the public generally, including those who might otherwise
act differently, as an act of clemency which will be everywhere
respected, and do more to quiet the fear expressed than any other
mode that could be pursued.
* * *
F. M. H. writes:
The fact that Matthew Arnold's real excellence is that of a
poet, not a theologian, has just been presented to a literary club,
which meets near Boston, in a very able essay by Mr. G. Brad-
ford, Jr., a young man of great promise, who remarks that the
intellect of the author of Literature and Dogma " has forced him
to reject what he considers an illusion, but his poet's imagination
longs passionately for the sweet dream of the past." " Besides, if
one talks of science, is it scientific to speak of the Eternal Power
which makes for righteousness? Mr. Arnold affirms it, but I do
not know that it is affirmed by any one else. On the contrary, I
do not see how, from a rationalistic point of view, this assumption
is any more warranted than a hundred others."
* # #
The orthodox ministers are about as unanimous
against commutation before death, as they are against
probation after death. At a meeting of Methodist min-
isters at Cleveland last Monday, twenty-nine being pres-
ent, a resolution was adopted by a vote of twenty-eight
to one, to send a letter to Governor Oglesby, urging
him to show no mercy to the condemned anarchists, but
to permit them to be hanged according to sentence.
* * *
At a Catholic congress recently held at Lie'ge, in
Belgium, the various proposed solutions of the labor
problem, cooperation, socialism, nationalization of land,
etc., were condemned. The Bishop of Lie^ge offered as
the true solution the revival of the old trade guilds,
which, he said, should be placed under the guardianship
of Christian lay employers and of the clergy, with each
trade or calling, under the protection of a saint; and all
engaged in it, employers and employes, formed into a
brotherhood to celebrate the saint's fete, and taking part
in religious processions, as well as to render mutual
help. Certainly this scheme is as impracticable as any
of those criticised at the congress, and it is not likely to
receive any attention from the working classes.
* * *
The average number of visitors at the Museum of
Fine Arts in Boston during 1SS6 was 1,455 on Sundays,
and S7S on Saturdays. Admission on both these days
is free; but the time the library is open is twice as long
on Saturday as on Sunday. The average number of
paying visitors on other days is sixty-five.
THE OP-EN COURT.
5<>3
At Miner's theatre, New York, recently, there was
a debate between Henry George and Mr. Shevitch on
a "land tax." Inside the building were 3,000 working-
men and as many outside, the auditorium not being
large enough to hold them. The discussion is described
as "hot and exiting," and the "reds" and the "blues"
claimed the victory for their respective champions. The
New York Herald says, that ideas were thrown among
the audience "by the handful," and adds: "The work-
ingmen have their thinking caps on, and by-and-by they
will straighten out whatever is crooked by helping to
repeal bad laws and to make good ones. Society needs
to be improved, and that immense crowd got hold of the
best way to accomplish it when they preferred a dis-
cussion to a bludgeon."
* * *
Said Rev. David Utter, in his sermon at Kansas City at the
recent installation of Rev. J. E. Roberts:
Ethics is not the root from which this church, from which the Christian
religion grew. That root is faith in God. And if any of you should hear at any
time in the future some one talking about an ethical basis for the Unitarian
church, count him as a dreamer, one who is blind to the consequences of his
pretty, airy theories. We believe in a real church, and a living real religion,
and the root of the whole mitter is not morality, but is faith in God.
This is well said, strongly said. But it is truth, and needs to
be said not in one pulpit only, but in hundreds, if Unitarianism
in the West is not to be lost in ethicalism. And it must not only
be said but acted upon. — The Unitarian.
"An ethical basis for the Unitarian Church" is much
better than a theological basis; and if Unitarianism shall
never be lost in anything worse than " ethicalism," its
best elements are sure to be preserved, for " those su-
preme ethical motives which," says the Christian
Register "lie at the very heart of religion," will still
remain.
* * *
Commenting on the popular fallacy, expressed in
the words, "Labor creates all Wealth," the Chicago
Tribune sensibly observes:
If the term "labor" be applied so as to include all kinds of
human effort, and especially the work of the mind, there could be
no question as to the propriety of the axiom cited. In practice
just the reverse is true. The "labor" which is alleged to be the
creator of wealth and the cause of progress is that of the muscles,
not of the creative brain. No allowance is made for the brain
sweat of inventors and discoverers; no place is reserved in the
calculation for such labor-saving and wealth-producing triumphs
as the application of improved steam power, the harnessing of
electricity, the invention and perfection of railroads and trains, or
of agricultural implements that increase and cheapen food, and
the developement of countless mechanical devices which have
changed the face of civilization in the last half-century. Did
Watt, Stephenson, Arkwright, Howe, Fulton, Whitney, McCor-
mick, Bessemer, Morse and Edison do nothing to create capital
or wealth? What comparison can be made betweed Whitney and
the toiling blacks as producers of wealth? In a period of twenty,
seven years following Whitney's discovery the production ot
cotton in the United States advanced from 138,000 pounds per
annum to 127,860,000, or an increase of nearly a thousandfold!
Such was the astounding result following the application of brain
power to an industry previously worked by slight-skilled physical
labor. Pages could be filled with the enumeration of brain
triumphs only a few degrees less significant.
I was not altogether satisfied with the manner in which the
trial of the Anarchists was conducted. It took place at a time of
great public excitement, when it was about impossible that they
• should have a fair and impartial trial. A terrible crime had been
committed which was attributed to the Anarchists, and in some
respects the trial had the appearance of a trial of an organization
known as Anarchists, rather than of persons indicted for the
murder of Degan. Several of the condemned were not at the
meeting where the bomb was thrown, and none of them, as I
understand, was directly connected with its throwing. The con-
demned claim, however erroneously, to be the advocates of
a principle, and to execute them would, in my judgment, be bad
policy. It will be claimed for them that they were executed as
martyrs to a cause, while if put in prison they will soon
be forgotten. Lyman Trumbull.
Those advocates of equal rights and equal opportu
nities for women, who seek to identify their cause with
the Christian theology, overlook the fact that Christian-
ity is an Orientalism, that only where it has been modi-
fied by Roman and Germanic influences, and by modern
extra-Christian and anti-Christian thought, do its repre-
sentatives regard woman's position other than one of
subserviency and subordination, and that where it exists
even in this modified form, every effort made to improve
the condition of woman is constantly opposed by appeals
to the Bible. During the decay of ancient institutions,
Christianity put itself in opposition to a strong tendency
of the times by emphasizing the duty of chastity and
marital fidelity; but its teachings in regard to woman
caused her to be regarded as impure, and led to an
unhealthy asceticism, which proclaimed war upon nature,
and produced a revulsion toward its opposite extreme,
while the independence and intellectual culture of
woman were discouraged, and for centuries she ceased
to figure in history except as a devotee. It is as true of
the advancement of woman as of progress in general,
that during the past three hundred years, as Lecky
says: "the deadence of theological influence has been
one of the most invariable signs and measures of our
progress." Some, recognizing this fact, make a dis-
tinction between Pauline Christianity and the moral
precepts of Christ; but the influence of a system must
be judged not so much by its precepts of virtue as by its
doctrines, which have been widely accepted, ami have
been favorable or otherwise to the practice of these
precepts. That Christianity, like the older religions,
has been necessary to the attainment of the present social
condition, such as it is, and that it has met certain wants
and contributed some elements to human progress, is as
true as that, in other respects, it has been reactionary and
has retarded progress. Christianity would long since
have become extinct in every enlightened, progressive
country but for modifications in the popular mind and in
practical life, making it agree largely with the require-
ments of science and industry. If we should ascribe all
the art, literature, science, virtue, and freedom in ancient
564
THE OPEN COURT.
Rome to the pagan religion, we would not be more
unreasonable than are those who, whenever they speak
of anything worthy in our modern civilization, ascribe it
to the influence of the Bible and Christianity.
All personal letters for the editors of this journal
should be addressed to their residence, 86 Page Street,
Chicago.
RELATIVITY
We cannot perhaps, within the limits of an editorial article,
more clearly show the essential meaning of the indisputable doc-
trine of the "relativity of knowledge" than by grouping together
a few facts in regard to the psychology of the senses.
Aerial vibrations communicated to the acoustic nerve give
rise to the sensation known as sound. Without a nerve of hearing
there can be no sound ; for, whether it be the tempest's roar, or the
serpent's hiss, or the voice of human sympathy and love, sound
is a sensible phenomenon, and not something external to the
hearer. Color is also a subjective affection ; and particular colors
depend on the particular velocities of the waves of attenuated
matter gathered together by the optical apparatus of the eye, and
which impinge upo» the retina, affecting the optic nerve and
giving rise to what appear objectively as colors, — blue, green,
violet, etc., — but which are known to be sensations, or conscious
states. This is as true of the "rosy cheek," the "ruby lip," and
the " lovelit eye," as it is of the blue sky above us or the brown
earth beneath our feet. In some persons, vibrations as different
in velocity as those which§ commonly cause redness and green-
ness awaken identical sensations. Luminousness is a sensation
produced by the action of waves of ether upon the retina and
fibres of.the optic nerve. This sensation may also be produced by
a blow or by electricity, which, singularly enough, while it causes
luminous phenomena in the eye, brought in contact with other
parts, gives rise to quite different sensations, — sounds in the ear,
taste in the mouth, ticklings in the tactile nerves. That tastes
and odors are not intrinsic in things with which we associate
them is very evident. The sweetness of sugar and the fragrance
of the rose are sensations in us caused by these objects, the one
appreciated by the sense of taste, the other by the sense of smell.
Heat, too is a sensation, and is conceivable objectively only as a
mode of motion.
Another quality which we ascribe to things is hardness. But
hardness cannot be intelligently conceived, except as a feeling.
When we say that a stone is hard, we mean that, if we press
against it, we experience a sensation of touch, a feeling of resis-
tance, which is designated by the word " hardness." To illustrate
that both hardness and form belong to the groups of our con-
sciousness which we call sensation of sight and touch, Huxley
observes: "If the surface of the cornea were cylindrical, we
should have a very different notion of a round body from that
which possess now; and, if the strength of the fabric and the
force of the mucsles of the body were increased a hundred fold,
our marble would seem to be as soft as a pellet of bread crumbs."
What we call penetrability is the consciousness of extension and
the consciousness of resistence constantly accompanying one an-
other. What we call extension is a consciousness of relation be-
tween two or more states produced through the sense of sight or
the sense of touch. Even the conception of vibrations among
particles of matter, mentioned above as objective factors in the
production of sound and color, is but inferences from states ot
consciousne^s caused in us by vibrations which have been apprec-
iated by the optic or tactile nerves; in other words, by subjective
experiences produced in us by some unknown cause.
Thus, what are popularly believed to be qualities and states
of matter — sound, color, odor, taste, hardness, extension and
motion — are names for different ways in which our consciousness
is affected; and, were we destitute of hearing, sight, smell, taste
and touch, the supposed qualities of matter would not, so far as
we can know or conceive, have any existence whatever, for, by
psychological analysis, they are reducible to states of con-
sciousness.
As to Space and Time, whether we regard them with Kant as
forms of sensibility, belonging to the subject and not to the object,
or adopt Spencer's theory, that Space is the abstractof all relations
of position among co-existent states of consciousness or the blank
form of all these relations, and that Time is the abstract
of all relations of position among successive states of con-
sciousness or the blank form in which they are presented
and represented, and that both classes of relations are
predetermined in the individual, so far as the inherited organi-
zation is developed, when it comes into activity, while both
have been developed in the race, and are resolvable into re-
lation co-existent and sequent between subject and object as dis
closed bv the act of touch, — whichever of these theories we adopt
or whatever theory be affirmed, still we know Space and Time
only as subjective forms of states, not as external realities. Both
Space relations and Time relations vary with structural organiz-
ation, position, vital activity, mental development and condition.
How great in childhood seemed the height and mass of buildings
which now seem small or of but moderate size! How long the days
seemed -when we were young; how short now! How rapidly time
passes in agreeable company, how slowly in waiting for a delayed
train! That there is equality or likeness between our different
estimated lengths of distance or duration, — but so many variations
of subjective relations, — and any nexus of external things, there is
no reason to believe.
But does not the mind possess a synthetic power by which it
can put together the materials furnished by the senses, and thus
enable us to realize or understand the objective world as it actually
exists? Is there not in the mind a faculty of "intellectual intu-
ition," or a " perceptive understanding," by which we can discover
relations as they are beyond consciousness? If we do not know
the nature of noumenal existence, how can we know anything
about its relations? The great Kant dw-elt upon this subject for
years; and, although he believed in an existence transcending
sense and understanding, the conclusion of his years of laborious
thought was that we can only put together the materials furnished
by the senses, and that we can know nothing of the world as it
exists, unmodified by and independently of consciousness. To the
same conclusion, after years of profound thought, came Herbert
Spencer.
Although there seems to be almost a complete unanimity
among the great thinkers of the world that we can form no
conception of the objective world apart from the condition im-
posed upon it by our intelligence, and that changes of conscious-
ness are the materials out of which our knowledge is entirely
built, let no one hastily conclude that there is anything in this
position inimical to, or inconsistent with what is called "objective
science." Prof. Huxley, one of the greatest, if not the greatest, ol
living scientists, and a philosophic thinker of no mean ability,
pursuing the "scientific method" with which he is supposed to be
well acquainted, comes to the conclusion " that all the pheno-
mena are, in their ultimate analysis, known to us only as facts of
of consciousness." George Henry Lewes, eminent as a physiolo-
gist and psychologist, as well as a remarkably acute metaphysical
thinker, versed in all systems of thought, declares in his Problems
of Life and Mind: " Whether we affirm the objective existence of
THE OPEN COURT.
S6«
something distinct from the affection of consciousness, or affirm
that this object is simply a reflection from consciousness, in either
case we declare that the objective world is to each man the sum
of his visionary experience, — an existence bounded on all sides by
what he feels and thinks, — a form shaped by the reaction of his
organism. The world is the sum total of phenomena, and phenom-
ena are affections of consciousness with externa/ signs" (Vol. i., p.
183.) Dr. Maudsley, the distinguished physiologist who is no more
than Spencer or Lewes a subjectivist or idealist, — who, indeed, is
commonly regarded as a materialist, — says: "After all, the world
which we apprehend when we are awake may have as little re-
semblance or relation to the external world, of which we can have
no manner of apprehension through our senses, as the dream
world has to the world with which our senses make us acquainted ;
nay, perhaps less, since there is some resemblance in the latter
case, and there may be none whatever in the former. . . The
external world as it is in itself, may not be in the least what we
conceive it through our forms of perception and modes of thought
No prior experience of it has ever been so much as possible; and
therefore, the analogy of the dreamer is altogether defective in
that respect." (Body and U'iil, p. 51.)
This is the position of nearly all the great representatives of
science, including the original investigators, — Huxley, Tyndall
Montgomery, Lewes, Proctor, Romanes, el id oinne genus. To a
young man who asked him if idealism was not the " very negation
of science," one of the most ingenious and acute thinkers this
country has produced — Chauncey Wright — wrote : " By objective
science, I understand the science of the objects of knowledge as
contradistinguished from the processes and faculties of knowing-
Does idealism deny that there are such objects? Is not the doc-
trine a definition of the nature of the objects rather than a denial
of their existence? There is nothing in positive science, or the
study of phenomena and their laws, which idealism conflicts with.
Astronomy is just as real a science, as true an account of pheno-
mena and their laws,- -if phenomena are only mental states, — as
on the other theory." B. F. Underwood. (Reprinted from The
Index of February 25th, 18S6, by request.)
DIFFUSION OF INDUSTRIES.
BY F. B. TAYLOR.
The enactment of the Inter-State Commerce Law has awak-
ened in the smaller towns, at least in the West, the hope of
securing a much larger proportion of manufacturing and whole
sale trade than they have heretofore enjoyed. It is argued by the
local press that the abolition of discrimination in freight rates will
enable the small manufacturer to compete with the large, by
giving him the trade adjacent to his little factory. The Long and
Short Haul Clause is expected to restore something of the natural
advantage belonging to proximity of producer and consumer.
This belief has gone beyond mere words. It has found expression
in many localities in both private and public movements for the
establishment of new manufacturies.
Whatever may be the ultimate practical effect of the new-
law, it is now undoubtedly expected to diffuse and in a measure
equalize industries as between different sections, and especially as
between city and country. And this very expectation will tend
to produce the desired result. Like the stability of a currency
the movement of business is much a matter of confidence; and
individual confidence is largely a result of public sentiment. I'
it be generally believed that the making and selling of goods may
be as profitably carried on in a town or small city as in the great
business center, factories and wholesale houses will speedily be
established there; and once established their patronage of the
railroad and demands upon it will tend to the supremacy of the
idea under which they come into existence. Unless the Inter-
state Commerce Law shall be repealed or nullified in practice
(neither of which events is probable) it must exert some force
indirect if nothing more, toward spreading out industries.
A different cause has acted even more powerfully in industrial
centers toward the same result. The protracted and unprece-
dented labor troubles of the past two years have created a general
sentiment there in favor of separating laborers as much as po^i-
ble, and removing them as far as convenient from the disturbing
influence of extreme social agitators so abundant in large cities.
Nor is sentiment alone the result in this case. Some large
employers have actually commenced the work of establishing
branches of their industries in the smaller towns and cities with
a view to ultimately reducing the parent plant to more wieldv
proportions; and many others are seriously considering a similar
movement. They have become disheartened by the difficulties of
managing their hands as regiments in the great organized array
of laborers quartered in large cities, and propose dividing them
into comparative^' small squads separated by long distances and
surrounded by new and healthier influences. This idea is quite as
acceptable to many of the employed as to the employers. I have
frequently met in the country intelligent mechanics who had
actually fled from cities to escape the tyranny of labor unions,
leaving family and all behind, in search of work in a place too
small and remote for the organization to reach. They prefer
lower wages and greater freedom.
The idea of the diffusion of industries is thus brought into
prominence from opposite directions. Is it an accidental and
momentary elevation, destined to subside into the current that has
carried all manufacturing and commerce to the cities; or does it
indicate a permanent stoppage or reversal of that flow?
It seems to be a law of progress in any art or invention that
it first moves away from nature; but that either in its greatest per-
fection returns most nearly to the natural type. In natural methods
of transportation cost varies as distance modified by few and con-
stant natural conditions. The natural order was to limit trans-
portation to the lowest point. The spontaneous form of manu-
facture was handicraft. The shop in the hamlet or by the
roadside was the original of our present mammoth factory.
Goods were consumed, if not by the identical persons who
wrought them, at least in the immediate neighborhood of their
manufacture.
When the artificial took the place of the natural in industry
this order was reversed, both as to production and transportation-
Distance as a factor in freight charges was almost annihilated bv
the railroads, and in innumerable instances actually changed from
a plus to a minus quantity. The multiplication of machinery has
well-nigh eliminated the human element from manufacture. It
began, by absorbing the many shops into the few factories, the
work of industrial centralization so thoroughly completed by a
transportation system managed on principles the reverse of
natural.
It seems to me that the modern industrial system has reached
that degree of perfection when it must return more nearly to the
natural type. Cheap and rapid loading, unloading, stopping, start-
ing and switching constitute a higher order of railroad operation
than long-distance hauling of unbroken bulk and trains. The
machinery and management that enable comparatively few- men
and small capital to produce goods as cheaply as larger numbers
and greater investments are the latest development of manufact-
ure. Progress is in the direction of simplicity. Public feeling
is for equality of localities in industrial opportunities so tar as
these are controlled by artificial agencies. If I mistake not, an
industrial democracy is arising whose mission it shall be to suc-
cessfully combat the centralization of work and wealth in a few-
great cities. The people having taken the first and most difficult
step toward the regulation of commerce, will not move backward
or stand still. Having elevated the question of the equal indus-
;<><>
THE OPEN COURT.
trial rights of localities to the plane of public policy, they will
continue to discuss it intelligently and act upon it patriotically.
Once freed from the entanglements of private speculation, no
proposition is more readily susceptible of proof than that all
legislation on economic subjects should be directed toward the
diffusion of industries as evenly as may be over the entire coun-
try. It is self-evident that the nearer different classes of producers,
<?ach of which is consumer for all, can be brought together, the
cheaper they can supply each other's wants. Transportation is
purely an expense item, and should be held down to the lowest
ligure. Uncontrolled, the policy of modern transportation com-
panies has been the exact opposite of this. They have employed
much of their energy hauling coals to New Castle, in order to
haul them back again at double cost to the consumer and profit to
themselves.
It is perhaps not well enough understood in all parts of the
Union that the enormous industrial centers which have sprung up
with such marvelous rapidity in the West are the children of rail-
road favoritism. To one who has stood during the last dozen
years in the center of a circle whose circumference passes through
Chicago, Minneapolis, Omaha and Kansas City, and watched
prosperity take its westward way, with the course of empire,
from the fertile fields of Illinois and Iowa, there comes a realizing
sense of the effects of discrimination in freight rates. The main
force of railroads has been exerted centripetally, carrying in to the
favored centers the wealth and work of the whole land.
Government has laid its hand upon the throttle lever of this
mighty discrimination engine. Suppose it should put out another
hand and reverse its action ! Would not the wealth, the business,
the population be carried back to the towns and rural districts?
Railroads under uncontrolled corporate management have been
used to build great cities and favor localities. Could they not
under governmental regulation be made to undo in a degree their
own work, and establish industrial republicanism instead of aris-
tocracy? If discrimination in favor of particular points and of
the long haul has created a few abnormal trade centers, would not
exact justice between localities and pro rata rates for all distances
build up a multitude of small ones? Such a readjustment of
industrial conditions would not greatly decrease the aggregate of
transportation, because it would greatly increase the volume of
local traffic. It would simply stop the waste of double transpor-
tation, and a fair division of the saving with the consumer would
compensate the roads for their loss. They would certainly be
willing to do less work for the same net profit.
There is no probability of less disturbance in labor districts,
There will always be the same motive as now on that account for
the breaking up of overgrown factories into smaller, and scatter-
ing them throughout the land. There will be no loss of power
by the division of factories. The advantages of large factories have
not been in manufacture proper, but in transportation favoritism,
direct or indirect. They are commercial, not mechanical. Most
of them will disappear with the coming revolution in transporta-
tion. The legitimate advantages in buying and selling which are
left to large institutions will be more than offset by the cheaper
sustenence, the greater contentment and thrift of the workers in
small factories.
CORRESPONDENCE.
CATHOLICISM AND DEMOCRACY IN FRANCE.
To the Editor;.: Paris, October.
Ever since the French Revolution there has been a deadly
struggle going on in this country between Church and State, and
never was the battle fiercer than at the present moment. Every
year the Republic is becoming more solidly established and is
consequently dealing harder blows, which the irate Church returns
but with the feeble force of a retreating adversary. The only
danger is lest the victorious republicans follow up their successes
with too much impetuosity and lay themselves open to a sudden
attack. Their foe is wily. The moderate republicans perceive
this peril and are ever striving to restrain their more impatient
allies on the Extreme Left.
M. Edmond de Pressense, Protestant clergyman and French
Senator, has just printed in the Revue Blcuc a very able article
where he points out the course that the Center should follow in
this encounter with the church militant. We could not have a
better guide in our examination of this important phase of this
" irrepressible conflict."
M. de Pressense' combats the policy of M. Cldmenceau and
his followers, who would cut down the ecclesiastic appropriations
each year when the budget comes up for discussion. Nothing so
irritates a man as tampering with his money matters; and in this
particular the clergy do not differ from more mundane mortals.
Many a priest who would otherwise have remained neutral, at
least, has taken up arms against the Republic because the Cham-
ber of Deputies has lessened his modest stipend. Why make a
bitter enemy of a poor country cure in order that the State may
save a hundred francs or so? M. de Pressense asks very sensibly.
The republicans are treading on not less delicate ground when
they touch the question of the catechism in the public schools.
That the number of reactionary deputies was doubled at the
autumnal elections of 1S85 was mainly due to the new republican
Education Bill, which excludes religious instruction from the
primary schools. M. de Pressense would have preferred the Bel-
gian system, where the catechism is taught in the schoolroom,
but after the regular hours and on the special request of the
parents of each child. M. de Pressense also regrets that the new
law substituted for religious instruction a secular system of morals.
He declares with good reason that the State should teach in its
schools general morality but not a fixed and precise system, as is
now the case, expounded in regular text-books and at regular
hours. This placing "civic morality" on the same plane with
geography and arithmetic is very French but not very practical
— not apt to meet with unanimous favor in a nation where Cath-
olics, Protestants and Jews enjoy equal rights and cling with
peculiar persistency to their respective creeds.
A serious evil has sprung from this "new departure" in
schoolroom morals — an evil that might have been forseen, espe-
cially in the France of to-day. Extreme freethinkers in their
efforts to drive the Catholic religion from the primary schools
have set up a silly religion of their own. In their attack on big
otry they have become bigots themselves. French publishers
have been doing a driving business of late years in printing text-
books on " civic morality," and several individuals have become
famous, and even notorious, in this department of authorship.
The late Paul Bert never wrote a book that occasioned so much
comment as his little volume of civic morality intended for use
in the primary schools, and if M. Gabriel Compayre, the rising
and talented deputy, becomes Minister of Public Instruction, as
he very probably will in a few years, his elevation will be due in
no small measure to the commotion created by a volume some-
what similar to that of Paul Bert.
Another curious feature of this " laicisation " of the French
schools is the attempt by some of the radical municipalities to
introduce expurgated editions of the French classics. There are
foolish freethinking writers of school-books who have taken up
La Fontaine and other authors on which young minds are fed,
and gone carefully over the text, suppressing the word "God"
and all other expressions of a religious or spiritual nature. But
this is not the worst of it. These Parisian anti-Christs have not
only expunged but interpolated, so that quotations familiar to
THE OPEN COURT.
567
generations of Frenchmen are changed in a way that must grate
on the ear of even the most tire-eating freethinkers. The Church,
of course, makes the most of this puerile proceeding, and that
M.de Pressense and his friends should be ashamed of their repub-
lican brothers is quite pardonable under the circumstances.
There is growing reason to fear that the republicans may arm
the Church with another weapon. In the new Armv Bill which
has already passed the Chamber and will come up before the Sen-
ate this autumn, is a clause requiring theological students to serve
in the army just like all the other young men of France. Think
of a future priest being forced into the unholy precincts of a mili-
tary barracks! If this clause should be concurred in by the Sen-
ate and become law, the republican party will have given the
Church another ground for complaint. But M. de Pressense
<loes not think that the Senate will follow the lead of the Chamber
in this impolitic course, and his opinion should carry weight, for
he is an influential member of the Upper House. As friends of
the French Republic, let us hope that Senator de Pressense" s
opinion will prove to be correct.
M.de Pressense closes his article with these words: "How
can we put a period to these conflicts without sacrificing any of
the progress already made? My answer is, by having recourse
once more to the grand and immortal principle of the Revolution,
the secularization of the State, which idea should be kept clearly
before the nation's mind, and applied honestly and magnani
mously. The best manner in which to bring about in the future
the complete triumph of this principle is to respect it to-day. In
any case, the consolidation of the Third Republic depends upon
our observing this rule of conduct."
Such are the difficulties of the present situation in France.
And what is to be the outcome? Will the Church accept democ-
racy, or, like the Pope and King Humbert, will the Vatican
refuse to come to an accommodation with the Quirinal — will
Church and State remain implacable enemies to the end?
It is not very difficult to answer this question. The Catholic
Church never "bites its own nose off." It will fight as long as
there is a shadow of a hope of victory, and then will shake hands
with the enemy, seemingly bury the hatchet, and begin to try and
obtain by peaceful and insidious means what it could not secure
by open warfare. There are signs here in France that lead one
to believe that in the near future French ultramontanism may
make this new tack.
Pere Hyacinthe and hisGallican idea are doing a little some-
thing to help on this change by showing good Catholics that their
souls can be saved without clinging to the Pope and his anti-repub-
lican hierarchy. But the moderate Catholics, both laymen and
ecclesiastics, within the Church are doing even more. The sig-
nificant article of M. de Vogue in the Revue des Deux Mondes for
lune 15 shows that many of the more thoughtful of the faithful
are growing weary of this Achilles-under-his-tent policy, and are
beginning to advocate the accepting of things as they are. M. de
Vogue even predicts that an American will some day sit in the
chair of St. Peter, and he boldly declares that he should be pleased
to see European Catholicism Americanized. Then, certain
French Bishops have also given out that if they "could" they
would come over to the Republic. And lastly, the two wings of
the republican party are of course doing what they can to educate
public sentiment in this same direction. The Radicals, Ingersoll-
like, are laughing the Church down, while the Moderates are
bringing over the timid while quietly clipping the wings of the
priesthood by means of restrictive laws added to the statute-books
every year.
So it is safe to say that the Gallican movement, the liberal
Catholics and the republicans will eventually force ultramon-
tanism to the wall. But don't jump to the conclusion that then
and there the Church will surrender. Far from it. It may lay-
down its arms but will surely cling to its principles, and will begin
to do in France what its allies are doing in America. It will
accept the inevitable. It will become republican. But it will not
cease to cling to the old tenets. It will do more — it will strive to
get possession of the Republic and, in the end, will once more
control the destinies of France. This is what Catholicism is aim-
ing at in the United States, and this is what it will endeavor to
accomplish in France when the Church finally goes over to
democracy. thf.odorf. stanton.
ECONOMIC THEOLOGY, HENRY GEORGE AND THE
SCHOOL GIRL.
To the Editors :
Our truly loyal knight was killing the dragon landlordrv the
other day at the Packard Institute, N. Y., when to his assertion
that all land was God-given for the benefit of all mankind; one
of the girls who did not fancy, I suppose, so many gardeners in
her garden, objected that the Dutch, without being quite divine,
had made the mud cake called Holland, and asked " if after fight-
ing out the Ocean and the Spaniard, they could not show an
exclusive title of creative labor to their soil? "
" Yes, my brave girl, and Dutch dirt is much in the same
case with the rest for the clod-hopper, only a little more so. I
didn't fish my mountain farm out of the frog pond, but there
isn't a foot of it in culture, that I have not made over several
times, taking out Nature and putting in Art, grubbing roots and
killing weeds, and seasoning with manures. Then the ditching,
and the terracing, the fencing to keep beasts out, and the houses
to keep people in."
Labor, with the observing eye and judgment, makes about all
there is to rent about land. Of sites, there is to pick and choose,
but why should good judgment be taxed any more than labor?
Some creative geniuses, however, are not content with making
soil fit for crops; they make a God first, then they make him make
the land and give it away to everybody except anybody in par-
ticular. Is not this good bait to catch tax payers? Henry
George's God hates landlords — homeopathically. He made all
the land except Holland, and a few plantations back of the Mis-
sissippi levees and sich, and gave it all to everybody that was
nobody, and then he went to sleep and landlords stole it. Now
he wakes up and calls to his faithful servant George: Gird up thy
loins with a majority vote, take up thy tax and rout them land-
lords.
" Why don't Mr. O'Brien want him to help the Irish tenants?"
" Well, you see, they are so ignorant, they can't see the beauty
of paying their rent to a national tax collector instead of to a
private landlord."
" But why must they pay anybody, for what God gave every-
body ? "
" Because everybody that happens to be in the majority,
according to the way they fix the ballot boxes, has the God-given
right to make everybody pay. Only to get payment, they must
make a government in the image of God, and a sheriff in the
image of government. When the sheriff is paid, government
receives, and God comes into his own again by the interest on the
land that he loaned. That is God's way of giving. The land
being common, is the property of government. It is taxed, and
labor pays for, as well as by all the good work done upon it
Otherwise there would remain a margin for sub-letting, and it is
necessary above all things, to starve out the landlords. 1 here-
fore 'land must be taxed up to its full value,' skimming all the
cream of profit down to the whey of ' the poorest land in use,' or
that will keep a man and mule in harness. So when government
is landlord all the others have to be tenants — all except the office-
5 68
THE OREN COURT.
holders and the bondholders, and some pet railroad piceuvres* that
are a little of both. Those impious Irish tenants claim that the
difference of the farms they till, above the ' poorest land in use,'
is in the labor their forefathers have put in them. They don't
understand that the dead are alive in that humanity which is
government, the image and minister of God. They only see
that they will still be paying rent, after the land is restored to the
nation. Yes, but ' not on the improvements,' saith the Lord by
the mouth of his prophet. You may evict a thousand tenant
families, and then hire a hundred single men to cultivate with
steam or dynamo-machinery, untaxed, making full as big a crop
as the thousand with their mules, and pocket the difference in
costs, because improvements and labor are sacred from taxation*
With such profits by the labors of your hirelings, you may buy
ships and freight them with foreign silks and wines; not a cent o'
tax on these; trade is free, the land alone bears every burden,
Or you may put your profits out at interest and enjoy the leisures
of a millionaire, with a good conscience, knowing that 'wages
rise with interest.' "
" But how about my barn, my log cabin, my fences, and my
work within the womb of the soil? I cannot sell or rent them
apart from the land, and without them the land is worth nothing.
Will the tax assessor take my estimate of their costs and deduct
it from what I owe to government?"
" Try him. There is room here for a good deal of algebra
and aimiabilitv. Remember that the tax assessor is a priest o'
the only true and universal landlord, whom the pious may pro-
pitiate with pie crust."
But we often read of ground lots selling at hundreds of dollars
the foot. There must be some way then of getting at their value
apart from the buildings?"
"Yes, this is the easier in cities where any kind of labor may
be hired at any time and to any amount, for putting up improve-
ments, and the demands for room in eligible sites are strong and
many. Site, in cities, is a far more important factor of land
values than in the country, and the ' unearned increment ' is much
larger in proportion to the whole value. This may afford then a
plausible basis for municipal taxation, which is a very different
affair from taxes by the general government on agricultural land
Such as lies contiguous to cities, shares this facility of appraise-
ment more or less, and in a secondary degree, lands contiguous to
railroads or navigable waters. The bulk of soil under culture
owes its value more to the improvements by its occupant, and
less to the influence of civic aggregation. Edgeworth.
IS WOMAN WOMAN'S WORST ENEMY?
To the Editors:
The statement that women are severer upon the faults of their
own sex than men are, is all very well as far as it goes. But it is
only a half-truth, and like all other half-truths, misleads rather
from what it omits or suppresses than from what it actually
prefers. Supplying the omission, it should read thus: "Other
things being equal, women are less generous to the faults of their
own sex than men are; vice versa, men are less generous to the
faults of their sex than women are;" all of which is only another
way of saying that the law of repulsion between similars, and of
attraction between dissimilars, or as science calls it, the law of
opposites, which prevails throughout nature — animate and in-
mate— obtains also among human beings. But in the complicated
conditions of society where things are never equal, but exceed-
* This name, more picturesque than octopus, and which Hugo lias found
tor the sea monster in his Tra-.ailLitrs <*V la Afer, fitly expresses the chain of
alternate sections, which the policy of our government, in creating corporate
landed monopolies, has granted to so many railroads, regardless even of their
fulfilment of contracts, and which combined with freight charges, as in Cali-
fornia, reduce the whole farming population to serfdom, squeezing the country
.is within the coils of a boa constrictor or a piccuvre.
It would be interesting, and perhaps instructive, to show that
much of the discussion on vital questions of the hour,
is vitiated and so made comparatively worthless bv the subtle
influence of this all-prevading law — that men and women equallv
sincere and equally earnest in the pursuit of the truth are kept
apart solely by their different points of observation of the same
fact. But an adequate treatment would transcend the limits of
the present paper, even if it were entirely relevant, which it is
not.
The statement in question taken as a psychological fact more
or less imperfectly put, need convey no reproach if none were
intended. But the sting of it — that which brings the hot blood
of indignation to the cheek of every honorable woman whenever
and wherever she hears it uttered — is the underlying imputation
of narrowness, of bigotry, of all uncharitableness as evinced in
the treatment of her sisters whom she does know. How then
can sheevienas per to those loftier heights of judicial dignity and
honor which overlook the nations which she does not know !
It will serve our present purpose to consider the offenses
against society under two heads. First, those that effect all
classes equally, and secondly, those that bear upon different
classes unequally. Of the first class theft and homic de are con-
spicuous examples. They are, for the mo6t part, single-handed
attacks upon the life and property of the individual, the most
directly subversive of the purposes for which governments are
instituted, and for this reason the simplest and most easily dealt
with. Inasmuch as women thieves and women murderers have
always been disposed of under a strictly masculine regime, it
goes without saying that these are not the offenses which come
under the special censorship of her own sex. It is the second
class of offenses — those that bear heavily upon one class and
lightly upon the other — that elicit condemnation trom one part
of the community and evoke sympathy from another part, which
constitute the chief problem of modern jurisprudence and furnish
food for the moralist, since the cry of protest against any par-
ticular evil is sure to emanate from that class who, either in
reality or imagination, suffer from its existence, obviously the
offenses which all women most heartily condemn will be those
from which they suffer the deepest injury. As a rule, the
vices of one sex militate against the power and happiness of the
other. This is especially the case with the minor ones. From
time immemorial in the absence of more exigent matter, woman's
follies have been the favorite theme of both pulpit and press, for
the obvious reason that men are the victims of those follies.
Her idleness, her selfishness, her duplicity in small matters
offend his moral sense. Her love of dress, her extravagance
prey upon his purse. Her high hats obstruct his view at the
opera. Her lack of housekeeping qualities, her neglect of her
children imperil the comfort and happiness of his family, and so
on indefinitely. The masculine vices which disturb the peace of
women readily come to mind. The inordinate use of tobacco,
intoxicants, the spendthrift habits of the gaming table and the
club room are some of them.
There is one crime and only one in the entire catalogue of
sins, grave or otherwise, with which women are chargeable that
is responsible for the attitude of women towards her own sex. I
need hardly say it is the crime of unchastity. The unchaste
woman is the foe of all womanhood. Her shadow on the thresh-
old sends a chill of terror to the heart of every true wife and
mother for the safety of her most cherished idols, namely, the
honor of husband and sons. The sisterly sympathy which the
spectacle of human degradation under other circumstances might
elicit is choked out by this all-absorbing terror. The unfairness
of selecting this as the type of the relation which exists between
woman and woman is the more manifest when, as before stated,
it can be shown under similar circumstances men act in just the
THE OPEN COURT.
569
inglv unequal, where the intelligence and the reason largely
dominate the animal instincts, where a great variety of controll-
ing influences are continually disturbing the normal relations of
men and women in society, this law of the sexes is of little
practical interest, save as accounting for some seemingly anomal-
ous phases of human character.
same way. For example; the smooth Benedict, who with evil
intent invades the domestic fireside where wife and daughters
reign supreme, meets with no gentle reception from husband,
father or brother. His presence is the signal for such an out-
break of passion as out-Herods all the animosities between men.
And yet man is not the enemy of man, but his best and truest
friend, as woman is of woman.
There is an abundance of testimony, if testimony were still
wanting, to prove that women are not the enemies, but the
natural guardians of their more unfortunate sisters. Until
recently all our public institutions, both penal and curative, were
under the sole administration of men. The harsh measures then
often employed to impose restraint and secure order appealed to
the humane sentiments of enlightened men and women all over
the land. Legislatures were importuned where legislation was
necessary, and now we have in nearly, if not quite all, the institu-
tions of our country, women installed as associate superintendents
wherever women are among the inmates. Even in this city,
while I now write, a matron has been appointed for our police
station; steps not likely to be taken if there were the slightest
apprehensions in the public mind that women could not be
entrusted to the tender mercies of her own kind.
Every woman is to everv other a second self in whom she
sees, as in a mirror, the reflection of her own weakness as well as
strength. So is man to man. Hence, the right of trial by a
jury of one's own peers, at once the pride and bulwark of free
institutions, — a right that what calls itself the freest and fairest
government under the light of the sun still denies to one-half its
citizens.
Woman's greatest wrong is her anomalous position in a
country of the people, for the people and by the people. Her
worst enemies are those children of ignorance whose faces are
always set to the past; who dread nothing so much as a change
from what has been; into whose dull lives an idea seldom comes,
save when some time-worn error which, like a worm-eaten pillar,
they fondly imagine supports the sky topples in ruins at their feet.
Rochester, N. Y. II. B. Clark.
SUCCESS TO THE RADICAL METHOD.
To the Editors:
This title is suggested by an article in the Open Court of
July 7th, headed, "Failure of the Radical Method," some parts of
which were well replied to in the issue of August iSth. The Rev-
erend writer comforts himself with the reflection that the condition
of the Free Religious Association implies an abandonment of
aggressive effort against orthodox Christianity and a disposition
to affiliate with organized religion. Even if this were the case it
would supply no warrant for the implication — "Failure of the
Radical Method," — as any cessation of activity on the part of the
Association may fairly be attributed to the success of the liberal
movement in which it has been a factor, and which has now be-
come so broad and far-reaching that the wilderness in which the
voice sounded is now blossoming with the roses of Rationalism.
One indication of this is the fact that one who prefixes the title
Reverend to his name can write so much in accord with the
views of the Association. So many are doing the work, of which
the Free Religious Association was a pioneer, that its distinct
existence does not appear to be necessary to insure progress. But
this progress, and all progress, is due to the radical method of
going to the root of evils and thoroughly exposing the funda-
mental cause of what is false and injurious. It is the a«itator,
who, though "nothing more than a unit," gives the impetus to
effective organization, which, though it may not accomplish the
full aim of the agitator, secures an advance in the desired direction.
Progress ever requires pioneers in advance, who shall disturb
the equanimity of those who, having once settled on a frontier,
deem further advance unnecessary and a reflection upon their
own position. In the realm of thought this is made apparent,
and we find that those who have made an advance are disposed
to resent any insinuation that there are desirable fields beyond
their mental habitation. One of the oldest liberal agitators in
America states that his fiercest opposition has come from those
who were nearest to him in opinion, but a little behind him.
Self-conceit resents the imputation that one who has made great
progress at heavy cost has not reached the ultimate goal. Thus
we often find the severest attacks upon agnostics proceeding from
broad church ministers.
If it is true that the need for the special effort of the F. R. A.
in its chosen sphere has ceased to be urgent, the question arises :
should it rest in affiliation with the organized religion that has
approached so nearly to its outposts, or should it move on and
stimulate a further advance? The answer depends upon whether
an advance is possible and desirable.
The liberal religious movement in America began with an
attack upon the divinity of Jesus. The establishment of New-
England Unitarianism and a far-reaching modification of
"orthodoxy" was the result. The next advance was upon the in-
spiration and authority of the Bible. " Parkerism" and Western
Unitarianism have vindicated the effort. Another step begins to
press its claims. It calls for the abolition of the worship of God.
It is the legitimate sequence to the preceding steps. Will the
Free Religious Association rest content with the progress to this
point, or will it change its name to one in accord with the idea ot
a progressive association and espouse the radical cry that the
worship of God shall be changed into the service of Man?
Many are convinced that attention to God involves
neglect of man ; that immorality is fostered by satisfying the
conscience with the worship of God; that the God idea is the
foundation of tyranny. "God's word" teaches fear God, honor
the king, respect the priest, obey masters, obey husbands. King,
priest, master and husband oppress humanity in the name of God;
and man will never be truly free till he is free from God. The
admission that there is a superior being, to whom man owes
allegiance furnishes an excuse for the tyranny of those who claim
to be his vicegerents. When God is dethroned and the good of
man, of which, after all, God has only been intended to be the
personification, is made the supreme concern, then the next im-
pending radical victory will have been won. The agitation will
be unpopular, but its method is the true road to success.
Robert C. Adams.
THE "MISCONCEPTION OF IDEALISM.''
To tin- Editors:
Does not the eternal antinomy enter into the question ol
idealism, as into all ultimate questions of metaphysics? I con-
ceive that for most of us the matter stands as it did with
Coleridge {Biografhia Literaria p. 95, Bohn ed.):
" I began then to ask myself what proof I had of the outward
existence of anything? Of this sheet of paper, for instance, as a
thing in itself, separate from the phenomenon or image in my
perception. I saw, that in the nature of things, such proof is
impossible; and that of all modes of being that are not objects of
the senses, the existence is assured by a logical necessity, arising
from the constitution of the mind itself, by the absence of all
motive to doubt it, not from an absolute contradiction in the sup-
position of the contrary." F. I. Carpenter.
57°
THE OPBN COURT.
BOOK REVIEWS.
The Making of the Great West. By Sentinel Adams Drake.
New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1SS7; pp. 339. Price
$1.75. For sale by A. C. Mc Clurg & Co., Chicago.
This is the second volume of a series of three, which the
author hopes " will present something like a national portrait of
the American people." The first volume being entitled "The
Making of New England," the third proposes to treat of the his-
tory of the central portion of the Union. The present volume
extends in time from 1512 to I8S3 and is grouped into three periods
respectively, entitled "Three Rival Civilizations," the Spanish,
French and English, showing the part each of these Nations took
in "The Making of the Great West." " Birth of the American
Idea," and "Gold in California, and What it Led to," There are
about 150 illustrations in the book, 14 of which are maps, and
among them are portraits of Queen Isabella of Spain, De Soto,
Louis XIV. of France, Queen Elizabeth of England, Bienville,
Champlain, Stephen A. Douglas, John Brown, Sam Houston,
Chevalier De La Salle and others. This historical series is in-
tended to meet the need for brief, compact, and handy manuals
of the beginning of this country, and the volume before us is
of special interest to the people of the great West.
White Cockades. An Incident of the " Forty Five." By
Ed-ward Irenteus Stevenson. New York : Charles Scribner's
Sons., 1887; pp. 216. Price $1.00.
This stirringly told story deals with the fortunes of Prince
Charles "The Pretender" in a possible adventure in the Scottish
Highlands, while in hiding after the disastrous battle of Culloden
in 1746. The story is one of daring bravery, hair-breadth escape
and youthful loyalty, and though, unlike most tales of the kind,
there is no kind of love-making from begining to end, yet it holds
the reader's attention closely by its thrilling situations, cleverly
described from the opening pages.
Social Equilibriums, and Other Problems, Ethical and
Religious. By George Batchelor. Boston: George H.
Ellis, 141 Franklin St., 18S7; pp. 286.
These Essays relate to the many new questions of social and
religious organization which have been forced upon the modern
mind by scientific discovery and economical progress. They do
not attempt to offer a panacea for the many evils of social life,
but simply to describe and discuss some of the causes of social
unrest and religious disintegration They are hopeful, positive and
constructive. Among the most interesting of the fifteen chapters
mostly sermons and essays by a Unitarian Clergyman, we count
those entitled "Free Thought," "Heredity and Education,"
"Heredity and Tradition in Morals," "The Natural Meaning of
the Word ' Ought,' " " Questions and a Correspondence," and
the two concluding chapters on the origin of Unltarianism in
Salem, Mass. The author's standpoint is outlined in the following
sentence from the preface, "The writings of Darwin and Spencer
have had great influence in shaping the thought of this generation,
they have been invaluable, but they have settled nothing, they
have however given direction to progress, and helping many who,
like the writer, do not accept their ethical conclusions."
What and Where is God? By H. B. Philbrook, Editor Pro-
blems of Nature. Chicago : Philbrook & Dean, 1 82 Dearborn
St., pp. 480.
This is quite the most original book that has appeared in a long
time. The author apparently "calls no man Master," in his
methods of reasoning; and his so-called "scientific" deductions
are as surprising as they are unique. The grand oracular manner
in which he gives forth his startling dicta on the questions of thc-
day, proves conclusively his own faith in their truth. Everything
on this planet he explains in a manner, which a glance through
the book will assure the reader, he is not indebted for to any pre-
vious thinker. The first twenty pages of the book give a summary
of its "Contents." Mr. Philbrook answers his own query as to
" What is God " in the following lucid way, " The commencement
by a Creator was only a current of the affair that performs the
work of Creation, only a mere current of electricity was the orig-
in of God. All that gave this Being existence, and power and in -
telligence, was a current of this all-competent affair." The author's
style is as original as his philosophy. We give a specimen of both
in these sentences: "A still more astonishing fact in connection
with the current of a person's organization, is the prevention ot
the will of the brain with a will of the Almighty that is coming
into the nose, and passing around the system and out the pores,
and back to the nose again." " In the darkness of night a whisper
is heard, Who gave Man and Animals a chance to sleep by put-
ting out a disturbing light at an hour of fatigue? " A portrait oS
the author adorns the first page, and the book is handsomely bound.
"The Popular Science Monthly" for November opens with
the fifth paper of the Hon. David A. Wells's series on "The Eco
nomic Distubances since 1S73." In " Agassiz and Evolution,"
Professor Joseph Le Conte gives to Professor Agassiz the credit
of having laid the basis on which the doctrine of evolution has
been built, although he himself erected no structure of the kind
upon it. Dr. Theodore Eimer exposes the evil of too exclusive
devotion to minute special researches, which is the growing fault
of some of the science of the day. Professor John S. Newberry
writes, concerning the " Food and Fiber Plants of the North
American Indians." In a very catholic address on "Science and
Revelation," Professor G. G. Stokes, President of the Victoria
Institute and of the Royal Society, vindicates scientific investiga-
tors against the too easily made charge of wishing to discredit
religious doctrines. Mr. Garrett P. Serviss describes "The Star-
of Autumn." The history, uses, and fashions of "The Wedding-
Ring" are described in a article by D. R. McAnally Professor
Atwater has an article on "The Chemistry of 'Oyster-Fatten-
ing.'" Professor Morse's address before the American Associa
tion on "What American Zoologists have done for Evolution"
is continued. Mr. F. A. Fernald gives a review of Geikie's treatise
"On the Teaching of Geography." Mr. H. Brooke Davis make-
a strong plea for the institution of" A Kitchen College," wheie
housekeeping arts shall be adequately taught and the knowledge
of them made desirable. A portrait and biographical sketch are
given of Professor Chester S. Lyman, of Yale College. "A
Further Advance " of Roman Catholic thought in the direction
in which science has led is discussed in the "Editor's Table." In
the same department the physiological doctrines taught by the
temperance people are criticized from the scientific point of view.
New York: D. Appleton & Co., Fifty cents a number, $5 a
year.
An enterprising and ambitious piece of work by a provincial
newspaper is the "Quarter-Centennial" issue of the Hampshire
County Journal, published by Charles F. Warner, at Northamp-
ton, Mass., for October, 1S87. It contains 66 pages, quarto size, ot
reading matter, illustrations and ads. The reading matter con-
tains a large amount of history and biography, which has even
more than a local interest, though pertaining to Hampshire
Countv matters. Among the photograph pictures of interest, we
find portraits and sketches of A. T. Lilly, donor of the Lilly Hall
of Science to Smith College, Mrs. Elizabeth Powell Bond, Dr.
Earle, of the Northampton Insane Asylum, George W. Cable,
Miss Harriet B. Rogers, teacher of articulation to deaf mutes, Seth.
The Open Court,
A. Fortnightly Journal,
Devoted to the Work of Establishing Ethics and Religion Upon a Scientific Basis.
Vol. I. No. 21.
CHICAGO, NOVEMBER 24, 1887.
I Three Dollars per Year
I Single Copies, 15 cts.
RELIGIOUS VALUE OF SCIENTIFIC STUDIES.
BY LEWIS G. JANES.
" True science and true religion," says Professor
Huxley, "are twin sisters, and the separation of either
from the other is sure to prove the death of both.
Science prospers exactly in proportion as it is religious,
and religion nourishes in exact proportion to the scien-
tific depth and firmness of its basis. The great deeds of
philosophers have been less the fruit of their intellect,
than of the direction of that intellect by an earnestly re-
ligious tone of mind. Truth has yielded itself rather to
their love, their patience, their single-heartedness, their
self-denial, than to their logical acumen."
Granting that religion may be established upon a
scientific basis, it is evident, I think, that the study of
science should constitute an important element in our
liberal systems of religious education. We hear much
in these latter days about the conflict between science
and religion; but to those who think freely and deeply,
I am convinced that there can be no such conflict. For
religion based upon science is necessarily in harmonv
with the method and procedure of science; while science
is, as I believe, essentially religious in its very nature.
The attitude of the scientific student, humble, patient,
repressing his prepossessions, standing in reverent sub-
mission before the most insignificant fact, is infinitely
more religious than that of the dogmatic theologian,
proud in his conceit of an infallible revelation of truth.
" One of the most important duties of a religious teacher,"
said an able and successful clergyman of the Episcopal
Church to me a short time since, "is the inculcation of
a wise agnosticism." This is a part of the office and
mission of science in our curriculum. Science alone can
give us true conceptions of ourselves, and of the universe
in so far as it is revealed to us — of our relations to the
world around us, and to that Infinite Power beyond all
seeing on which all things visible depend. Science
alone can save us from the conceit of the metaphysician
and theological gnostic, by demonstrating the limitations
of the human intelligence, and its insignificance in the
presence of the Unsearchable Reality. "The secret
things belong to the Lord ; those that are revealed, to
us and to our children." Into this ancient scripture it puts
new and sublime meaning. All that we see and know,
the world and all things therein, the glorious canopy of
the sky, the heavenly hosts, the mind and character of
man, — these, indeed, constitute a revelation of the Infi-
nite Power — the Absolute Reality; but how little is all
that which is seen and known to that unseen Universe
which we can never know in its essential nature and
completeness, unless we, too, became gods, and infinitely
transcend the present limitations of our knowing facul-
ties. "So far from science being irreligious," says Spen-
cer, " it is the neglect of science which is irreligious
* * [Science] is religious, inasmuch as it generates a
profound respect for, and implicit faith in, those uniform
laws which underlie all things." Teaching us that this
is indeed a Universe — that all things are turned into
One, — that the Power behind, or, more properly ?'«,
phenomena is orderly and consistent in its manifestations,
science lays broad and deep the foundations of a rational
faith, based upon a monistic philosophy and of a trust
which is truly religious.
Whatever may have been the facts of its past his-
tory, the religion of the future, based upon science, can
no longer be divorced from ethics; and science gains
additional religious value from its profound ethical sig-
nificance. It alone can illustrate the essential unity of
that orderly sequence of phenomena which we subjec-
tively perceive as natural law in the material and in
the moral universe. It alone can demonstrate that the
moral law, like the laws of nature, is inherent and self-
executing; that the results of wrong-doing are inevita-
ble, while at the same time it affirms and illustrates the
possibility of moral growth, and of the indefinite better-
ment and expansion of man's ethical and intellectual
nature. The apostle of science* is the true priest in the
temple of rational religion. "By asserting the eternal
principles of things, and the necessity of conforming to
them," says Mr. Spencer, " he proves himself to be
essentially religious."
The teaching of the natural sciences in their
elementary aspects, almost wholly neglected, as it
is, in our common schools, should be a part of the cur-
riculum of our Sunday-schools and schools of ethical
culture. There are few children who will not readily
become deeply interested in the elementary study of
botany, geology, or natural history, or physiology ; and
these studies may be so presented that the result will be
not merely an accumulation of dry facts in the child's
57^
THE OPEN COURT.
mind, but the attention may be drawn to the higher
aspects of the subject — to the everywhere dominant
principle of law, order, and beauty, on which the foun-
dations of natural religion are established. This element-
ary teaching should usually be oral. Books should be
little used. Object-teaching, and practical experiment
with mineral, botanical, or zoological specimens, should
be adopted whenever practicable.
The child will thus be led naturally to perceive and
appreciate the wonderful beauty of the world in which
he lives, the integrity and perfection of the laws of
nature, the identity of that which we call law in the phy-
sical universe around us, and in the moral universe
within us. He will learn to think deeply and reverently
concerning the " mystery of matter," — that objective
reality which appeals to us everywhere in our sensible
contact with the world, but which, in its ultimate analy-
sis, buttresses always upon the Unseen, defying sensible
examination. Thus thoughtfully investigating, without
any dogmatic instruction, he can hardly fail to recog-
nize with reverent emotion the unity of the Power on
which all things depend — the Power which makes for
beauty and order and righteousness in the world, whose
workings, though inexorable, are beneficent, — are bene-
ficent, indeed, because they are inexorable. The pain,
the suffering, the physical imperfection and moral evil in
the world, he will come to apprehend as the indispen-
sable accompaniments of that divinely natural order,
which on the obverse side appears as the Eternal Truth-
fulness of Nature, the exercise of which he would not in-
terfere with if he could.
As the child-mind becomes more mature, especially
will the perception of the law of the correlation and con-
servation of forces, and of evolution as a universal charac-
teristic of the creative processes of nature, suggest that
"all-pervading unity," efficient competency, and benefi-
cent tendency of the life and power in and behind
visible phenomena, which nourish and satisfy the re-
ligious nature. The study of science is important, not
only for the actual content of information and religious
suggestion which it supplies to the mind, hut also be-
cause it reveals the only safe and sure method whereby
truth can be attained in any department of thought and
investigation. It renders the mind humble, patient, free
from the conceit of the metaphysical theologian. The
scientific study of religion itself will thus naturally super-
sede the catechisms and dogmatic instruction of the pul-
pit and Sunday School ; the good which is in the ethnic
religions and the various Christian sects will be sought
and recognized, while the evil and superstition which
have accompanied all the historical manifestations of the
religious sentiment will be as frankly admitted and re-
buked when it presents itself in Old or New Testament
phrase, as when it appears in the guise of Paganism!
Mohammedanism, Mormonism, or Buddhism. Thus
freely and rationally used, the Sacred Scriptures of the
world will be found to be a nobler storehouse of ethical
precept and lofty personal example, which the religion
of the future can by no means afford to undervalue or
neglect.
The introduction of scientific methods into the study
of religion, necessarily involves the complete renuncia-
tion of all duplicity and lack of sincerity in our dealings
with our children. Children are ready, almost intuitive,
readers of character, and nothing will so certainly and
instantly discredit the work of a teacher, as the percep-
tion of a lack of that absolute frankness and truthfulness
which should be the eternal foundation of the relation-
ship between teacher and pupil. Much of ignorance,
much of incompetence, in other respects, may be for-
given; but woe unto that teacher of religion who per-
mits his pupil to see that he withholds aught of his full
and free conviction — that the honest belief of his heart
is in any least degree different from his spoken word.
The teacher should never pretend to a knowledge
which he does not possess. He should never fear, upon
occasion, to say "I do not know," in answer to an earnest
query. If he doubts, he should not fear to expiess his
doubt.
"There lives more faith in honest doubt,
Believe me, than in half the creeds.
Doubt and faith are two sides of the same shield,
whose substance and strength is the eternal truth. Doubt
of the poor, the false, the insufficient, in prevalent creeds,
is essential to faith in the richer, truer, completed state-
ment of the more rational conviction. Doubt of miracle,
is faith in the eternal order of Nature. Doubt of author-
itative dogma, is faith in the method and results of
scientific research. There is no scepticism so absolute,
or so fatal to moral and intellectual integrity, as the
craven fear which questions the policy of the frankest
and most outspoken statement of that which is by heart
and mind confessed as truth. The teacher of science
never doubts this assertion; the teacher of religion often
does, apparently, even though he call himself a Relig-
ious Liberal. Let him learn from the apostle of science.
Let him introduce the scientific method into his teaching.
So doing, he shall lead the world out of error and super-
stition into the wealth and beauty and satisfaction of
the Truth.
THE DEATH PENALTY.
IiY A. M. GKIFFEN.
Punishment as an element per se should form no
part of the animus, or motive, of the criminal law; and
it should be clearly understood that society in resorting
to compulsory measures in dealing with its criminals is
only acting for the protection of its members; that it
aims to secure that protection, first, by sequestration of
the criminal, and, secondly, by adaptation of its methods
THE OR EN COURT
573
and forms of procedure to those educational, moral and
religious agencies whose object is the betterment of
mankind.
. Moral guilt as such should be no concern of the
criminal statute. The man should be judged solely by
the effects of his acts upon society. Punishment of
moral guilt is the prerogative of the conscience of the
individual. It is, however,
" Because the edge of conscience becomes blunted, and the
pain it inflicts ceases to be sharp enough, the interests of society
are compromised in such a manner that external and material
pain must be added by human law to the purely internal and
spiritual pain which follows wrong-doing. The external law and
punishment, must, however, be modeled on the internal law and
punishment. The voice of the judge without should correspond
to what would be the voice of the judge within, were it allowed to
be clearlv heard. Otherwise penal law must be the expression of
arbitrariness or vengeance. But since penal law should thus as
far as possible be the representative of conscience, it should have
the same ends — the amendment of the offender and the protection
of society. The amendment of the offender is to be kept in view
as long as it can be hoped for; but although this may be hopeless
society is entitled to inflict suffering on criminals as far but not
farther than may be required for its self protection." *
Punishment which is visited "for example's sake" is
vicarious, unjustifiable in itself and by results, and when
carried to an appreciable extent, is simply gratuitous
cruelty. -J-
In the states of Rhode Island, Michigan and Wis-
consin, where capital punishment was abolished from
twenty-five to thirty-five years ago, human life is as
secure as in other states of the Union, and much more
so than in some states where the death penalty is in force.
In Switzerland, that model and most peaceful repub-
lic of the old world, capital punishment from 1879 to
the present has existed as a legal enactment in but eight
of the twenty-five cantons; and in Belgium, Prussia,
Bavaria, Denmark and Sweden, though not abolished
by law, its enforcement has practically ceased. So, in
France, where in one year there were one hundred and
twenty six convictions formurder and but four execu-
tions, and in Italy, where a similiar proportion of execu-
tions to convictions is found, the same evidence of the
decadence of this mistaken policy is afforded. Likewise
in Austria, capital punishments have for man)- years been
exceedingly rare. In the Kingdom of Netherlands the
death penalty was abolished in the year 1870, and in
18S1, when an effort was made by a minority of the
Chamber to re-enact the penalty, the Minister of Justice
stated that "the convictions for crime which merited
death, according to the law in force up to that time, in
the ten years immediately following the abolition of capi-
tal punishment, were fifty-seven in number, while the
number of those condemned to death in the ten years
immediately preceding was eighty-two." J
* Prof. Fraser's Vico, Blackwood's Philosophical Classics, p. 159.
f Cf. "Remarks on Criminal Law," by Thos. Jevons, 1S3J, pp. 19, ■]!.
% Appletons' Annual Cyc, iSSl, Vol. VI., p. 627.
That punishment in itself is but a negative agent in
the civilizing process of humanity is a proposition that
will hardly be questioned; but that excessive punishment
for any class of crime is a positive agent of demoraliz-
ation and crime itself is conclusively demonstrated by
the events of history. Take, for example, the sanguin-
ary laws of England. Says the Morning Herald, pub-
lished in April, 1830:
•Tf the dreadful punishment of death could repress a crime,
how effectually ought forgery to be repressed! What hecatomb-,
of human victims have been offered up upon the scaffold to what
is called the 'commercial interests,' or rather to the great idol of
mammon! * * * And yet all this waste of life — all
this work of extermination, does not prevent in any degree the
perpetual recurrence of the crime and the perpetual exhibition of
similar acts of human sacrifice." *
If, then, exemplary punishment, which theoretically
is intended solely for the protection of society, is not
justified by results, under what conception of justice is
such punishment permissible? It will hardly be said
that justice in the abstract contemplates that the life
of one man who has demonstrated by an overt act
that he is bad, shall be destroyed that other men presum-
ably bad at heart may be deterred from crime which it
is not certain they ever will commit. If it be the object
of the penal law to frighten men into the suppression of
their criminal instincts, — and when capital punishment is
prescribed as a menace, such only can be the object, — then
ought we to turn back the pages of history and inaugu-
rate anew the terrors of the wheel, the rack, the thumb-
screw and other instruments of torture, that the example
may indeed be a lesson and a warning to all. Says
Rev. Mr. Brayton:
"True iustice has wider sweep than our wisdom or our pas-
sions. Its demands are not answered when we have struck the
retaliatory blow. It heeds not the timidity of our selfish fear, nor
the clamor of our revengeful cry. It comprehends the welfare of
the criminal as well, and is in its quality the clear intermingling
of all the holy attributes of God. True justice drives no man to
hopeless doom, — it is not satisfied with penalty — it does not
smother penitence — its demand is righteous; and by all its penalties
and pains it unbars the way and impels and leads the penitents to
return. When our humanity, in its too slow evolution from
barbarism, shall attain to this pure ideal of justice it will no longer
be satisfied with the brutal clamor of blood for blood." j-
The fact that executions in many of the states of our
Union arc had in "private" — that is, with but few per-
sons in witness, — is a virtual concession that their effect
upon the general public is detrimental to the public good,
and that as an example they are of no value in the pre-
vention of crime. If, however, the example were not
pernicious, or productive rather than preventive of crime,
a full and complete knowledge of details would seem to
be the best possible means of impressing the mind with
the lesson sought to be conveyed, and certainly those
*"The Punishment of Death. A Selection of Articles from the Morning;
Herald," London, 1836, Vol. I., p. 23.
t See Sermon delivered at Auburn, N. V., August 30, 1SS5, and published
in The Morning Dispatch, of Auburn, Aug. 31, 1SS5.
57 +
THE OPEN COURT.
needing the lesson most ought, properly, to he permitted
to reccie it in its most effective form.
The supposition that capital punishment deters men
from homicidal crime is apparently founded upon a mis-
conception of human nature. It falsely assumes that
when men are swayed and governed by strong impulse
and passion they are still capable of calmly balancing
cause and effect and by logical process reaching as sound
conclusions as when under the stimulus of the milder im-
pulses of human nature. It takes no account of the most
patent of mental facts — that the undeveloped intellect is
of all intellects the most egotistic; that all premeditative
criminals, when contemplating the commission of crime,
delude themselves with the idea that they are so shrewd
as to escape detection, and hence believe that what may
have befallen a comrade in crime would not have hap-
pened to themselves because of their superior cunning and
ability. It also mistakes true premises in assuming that
the criminal mind is capable of appreciating the distinc-
tion between the moral quality of the motive involved in
the killing of a man by process of law, and that of
a motive which prompts a murder committed by an
individual. It again falsely assumes that in all men
the fear of death is the most powerful of incentives,
whereas it is well known that the thought of death has
little or no influence upon the mind of a person in
robust health unless death itself be immediately appre-
hended.
"The well-established fact," says Mr. Bovee, "that
there are at least seven suicides to one homicide, attests
the truthfulness of the proposition, that life is oftentimes
a burden." And the same author quotes Jeremy Ben-
tham as saying:
" Such is the situation of a majority of malefactors, that their
existence is only a melancholy combination of all kinds of wretch,
edness. In all such cases, then, the dread of death has been inef-
fectual." *
Thus, when Swedenborg declares that " evil punishes
itself," and Emerson that "crime and punishment grow
out of one stem," do they utter truth of solemn import
to all transgressors of the moral law.
What, then, is the positive lesson which the civic law
teaches by its destruction of human life? Is it of the
sanctity and inviolability of that life? No, for the act
itself is a direct contradiction of the idea. What would
be said of that parent who should tell his child it is
wrong to eat of certain forbidden fruit, and then proceed
to illustrate the teaching by partaking of the fruit him-
self? If the law itself sets the example of destruction,
albeit for good and sufficient reasons, must that not be the
example which individuals, for reasons, sufficient unto
themselves, will most likely imitate? Says Mr. Bray ton:
" A Paris executioner, during his term of office hung twenty
murderers, who, as he said, had been constant attendants at his
gibbetting matinees. Rev. Mr. Roberts of England conversed
' " Reasons for Abolishing; Capital Punishment," 1S73, pp. 134, 137.
with one hundred and sixty seven convicts under sentence of
death, all of whom but three had witnessed executions."
Mr. William Tallack, secretary of the Howard
Association, relates that —
" It has often been noticed that executions have been imme-
diately followed by an unusual 'crop' of murders. For example,
in 1S70, shortly alter the execution of Tropmann at Paris for a
peculiarly atrocious murder, several similar cases of wholesale
slaughter occurred, including the seven-fold murder at Uxbridge.
Similarly, in 1S67, the execution of three Fenians at Manchester
* * * was followed within three "weeks by the abominable
Fenian explosion at Clerkenwell, which sacrificed many lives." *
" When men were hung up by the dozens for forging one-
pound Bank of England notes, the crime did not diminish — it in-
creased;— though many were cut off at Old Bailey Sessions, many
escaped all punishment, through the humane repugnance of juries
to send them in shoals to the scaffold." "f
The criminal in intent, witnessing the destruction of
human life by society for self-protection, believes that
he too may kill his enemies; moreover, the act is one
which meets the sanction of his moral nature, it is in
perfect accord with the activities of his mind, and hence
he is unable to appreciate its force as a menace instituted
for his particular benefit. Said Arcbishop Whately:
" The spectacle of a public execution strikes terror, I apprehend,
into few, except those who are not of a character to commit
heinous offenses. It creates, in most minds, a feeling of sympathy
with the culprit; * * * and a feeling not merely of
pity, but rather of admiration and emulation is excited in some by
that kind of triumphant penitence which is displayed by many ;
and in some, again, by the unbending hardihood exhibited by
others. The idea of a public death by the hand of the executioner,
is shocking in the way of disgrace, to those chiefly who are of a
different description from such as need to be deterred from crime
by the apprehension of capital punishment." J
" He who goes no further than bare justice stops at the
beginning of virtue."
Says Jeremy Taylor:
"No obligation to justice does force a man to be cruel, or to
use the sharpest sentence. A just man does justice to every man
and to everything; and then, if he also be wise, he knows there is a
debt of mercy and compassion due to the infirmities of man's na-
ture; and that is to be paid; and he that is cruel and ungentle to a
sinning ptrson, and does the worst to him, dies in his debt and is
unjust."
The death penalty is, by some, sought to be justified
upon the ground that it fulfills the idea of retributive
justice, which again is thought to be justifiable on relig-
ious grounds. Retribution signifies "to pay back," "to
return in equal measure" — not good for evil, but evil for
evil. But to attempt to carry out the so-called retribu-
tive justice by legal enactments, is to attempt the vindi-
cation of a metaphysical dogma in which society, as such,
can have no possible interest. Society has no concern
for the vindication of abstract principles. It has only to
busy itself with the moral, intellectual and social hap-
piness of its members.
If such were the constitution of things that the
broken law of justice might only be mended or satisfied
* " Humanity and Humanitarianism?" 1S71, p. 28.
t " The Punishment of Death," Vol. II., p. 56.
% " Thoughts on Secondary Punishments," 1S32, p. 45.
THE OPEN COURT.
575
by the death of the murderer, he would sooner or later
fall a victim to the destroying vengeance of his own
conscience. But not so. The principle of true justice,
playing its part in the divine economy of being, sets in
motion the keen blade of conscience to the end, and the
sole end, that the offender may have wrought within
him such a change as shall place him upon that higher
and truer plane of moral life where he cannot, because
he would not, do wrong to any man.
In accordance with the Greek idea of " fate,"-
" A crime committed by an individual is to be viewed as an outrage
upon himself, and the doom which threatens him in consequence,
is not a mere punishment inflicted by a foreign hand, but the counter-
part of his own deed. In slaying his victim, the murderer thinks he
has removed an enemy, and enlarged his own life; but really it is
one life that is in him and his victim, and in striking at another
he has struck at himself. What threatens him, therefore, as his
fate, is just his own life made by his deed into a stranger and an
enemy. This he cannot slay. It is immortal and rises from its grave
as an awful spectre — a Clytemnesira which arouses the Eumen-
ides against him; a Banquo's ghost 'which is not annihilated by
death, but the moment after takes its seat at the banquet, not as
a sharer of the meal, but as an evil spirit for Macbeth."
"Just this however, that the penalty is not externally imposed
by law, but is simply the fate of the criminal, the recoil ot his deed
upon himself, makes atonement possible. The guilty conscience of
the criminal is his recognition that his own life is in that which he
has tried to destroy, and hence it must pass into a longing regret
for that which he has thus lost. The criminal, therefore, feels an
awe before the fate that weighs upon him, which is quite differ-
ent from the fear of punishment; for the fear of punishment is the
fear of something foreign to him, and the prayers that would
avert it are slavish. His fear of fate, on the other hand, is a ter-
ror before himself, a consciousness of the agony of divided life,
and his prayers to it are not supplications to a master,
but rather the begining of a return to the estranged self. Hence,
in this recognition of that which is lost as life, and as his own life,
lie6 the possibility of the complete recovery of it. It is the begin-
ning of that love in which life is restored to itself, and fate is
reconciled — in which 'the stings of conscience are blunted, and
the evil spirit is expelled from the deed.'" *
If a penalty be just, it is an act of justice to enforce
it; not only so, but if it be necessary for the protection
and safe-keeping of society, its enforcement becomes
most honorable, praiseworthy and benevolent, and those
engaged therein should receive the honorable and grate-
ful recognition of all men. But what of this wretched
law of capital punishment? The act of taking human
life, even under the sanction of law, is so despicable in
itself that the hand that performs the deed instinctively
shuns the light of day and the gaze of men. So has it
ever been.
" The notion that there is something impure and defiling
even in a just execution, is one which may be traced through
many ages; and executioners, as the ministers of the law, have
been from very ancient times regarded as unholy. In both
Greece and Rome, the law compelled them to live outside the
walls, and at Rhodes they were never permitted even to enter the
city." f
Such a feeling is but the spontaneous protest of hu-
manity itself against a ruthless invasion of its own
sanctity.
Capital punishment is the last vestige of/e.v taliom's,
whose evil spirit ruled a barbarous past. The doctrine
of an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, flagellation and
all forms of torture, has been weighed in the balance of
experience and been found wanting. " Blood for blood,"
"a life for a life," smacks of the same brutal and revolt-
ing savagery; it finds its origin and sustenance in the
passion of revenge; and the law of civilization having,
for politic and humanitarian reasons, discarded the other
forms of the barbaric law, this likewise, and for the same
reasons, should be laid aside for a more just and humane
system which shall not despair of the ultimate reclama-
tion of the most depraved and wicked of human beings.
* Hegel in Blackwood's Philosophical Classics, p. 27.
f Lecky's European Morals, 1S77, Vol. II., p. 39.
THE FUTURE OF LABOR.
BY CAPT. ROBERT C. ADAMS.
The invention of machinery has had a vast influence
upon the employment of human labor. Its first effect
was to substitute the unskilled for the skilled laborer,
whose work was performed by the machine. As
invention proceeded, it was found that the cheaper
labor of women could replace that of men, and as
greater efficiency is attained it is found that children
can perform the needed labor, and both men and
women are superseded. A further change is already
suggested to us in the employment of animals. We
hear of horses and dogs being trained to perform routine
work, and stories are told of the employment of chim-
panzees in the simpler forms of farm work, both in
Africa and in the United States. As machinery ap-
proaches perfection it is not improbable that animals may
replace the children in the performance of some of the
automatic motions that alone are needed to aid the ma-
chine, and thus the sphere of human labor may be still
further restricted.
The great distress that is caused by these changes
during the periods when adaptation to the new condi-
tions is being accomplished by the painful process of
natural selection in the struggle for existence, may lead
us to ask what will be the solution of the question as to
the maintenance of the increasing number of the unem-
ployed in the fully populated countt'ies. The solution
is less difficult in the newer countries, as the opportunity
for the employment of the primitive forms of labor in
agriculture and construction is more extended there,
although the completion of machinery is already seri-
ously threatening man in those spheres.
Some already apparent solutions of the difficulty
may be noticed.
The great increase of machinery calls for the em-
ployment of more people in the higher capacities of
designing, managing and distributing, and thus stimu-
576
THE OPEN COURT.
lates the education of the unskilled laborer toward a fit-
ness for such employments. The greater cheapness of
machine products vastly increases consumption, and so
adds to the openings in these higher occupations. The
power to supply demand readily tends also to the short-
ening of the hours of labor, thus lessening daily toil and
in some cases increasing the number of workers. Thus,
part of the difficulty is overcome by the increased de-
mand for workers in new or enlarged departments, as
has been shown by those writers who have treated the
subject of "labor-making machinery."
But it is questionable whether under the present
system of employment the steadily decreasing demands
for ordinary labor can be met by the opening of en-
larged spheres for work in other directions, as the in-
ventor is constantly invading all but the most subtile
intellectual field> of effort. The compositor is threatened
with discharge by the machine type-setter; the aman-
uensis may soon be replaced by the phonograph; the
laborer is being supplemented by the steam dredge, der-
rick and hod-lifter; the messenger is outraced by the
telephone; a thousand girls were lately discharged from
the London book-binderies by the introduction of one
machine, and so on, in every sphere of work, invention
is making the demand for human labor less. What is
to be done with the unemployed? How can they escape
the alternatives of starvation or pauperism ? The only
answer is, Find them employment that will secure the
means of support. But how can this be done when
there is no demand for extra labor? Before replying,
let us ask, why is there no demand? Are all the wants
of mankind satisfied? Are machines and lands produc-
ing all that the world desires to consume? No, every-
where is unsatisfied longing and a demand for labor
that, if answered, would not leave an idle person in the
world. The reason why the demand is not answered is
because the opportunities for labor are controlled by in-
dividuals who will not permit them to be used except
for their own private profit. There is the cause; and
the remedy lies in giving free opportunity for men to
labor for their own full benefit. This can be done when
the people collectively produce all things for their own
use, and there is no longer production for individual
gain. Then, each worker for the community will re-
ceive all that he needs, and if the needs of all are to be
supplied, there will never be an excess of workers, for
human need is insatiable and increases up to the limit of
opportunity.
If every person should work, and the demand for sup-
plies was not stimulated by vanity and vice, a few hours
of daily labor would suffice to provide sustenance and
comfort for all, each worker would be considered to have
earned the right to receive all that was needed for con-
sumption and use, and all who were unable to work
would have their wants freely supplied. This is the
ideal condition of society that may be forecast as exist-
ing in the distant future. But though impracticable now,
there is no reason why it should not be recognized as the
desired end, and measures be adopted that would lead in
that direction.
Some such practical measures are the following:
Let no person anxious to work be unable to find an
opportunity to do so. If private occupations are filled, let
the municipality furnish employment that shall supply
public needs.
Shorten the hours of labor as much as competition
with the producers in other regions will permit, thus
increasing the number of workers and affording leisure
for culture of body and mind.
Let the community take over those industries that
are poorly conducted for private gain, enlarging their
operations by giving cheaper and better service. If gas
was furnished at cost, every house might have it; if
street-car travel could be more cheaply and extensively
provided, multitudes would ride; if telegraphing and
telephoning were made as cheap as the postal service, a
corresponding increase in use would occur; if railroads
and steamboats were run by the people for the people,
travel and freighting would grow enormously; if the
production and distribution of clothing and food staples
were controlled by the community, the greater cheap-
ness would add vastly to consumption. So in all
branches of industry ; increase and cheapen the supply,
and enlarged consumption will call for more workers,
and thus the inroads of machinery may be met.
How long will the people consent to pay high prices
for poor services, in order that dividends may be paid
upon watered stocks and extravagant outlays ? It will
be only until they are sufficiently educated to perceive
the remedy' for the ills they bear so patiently and need-
lessly. The remedy is — do things for the people's bene-
fit, not for investors' profit.
Such a change in society may be called a millennial
dream, and too far from realization to be worth consider-
ation. But the change can be made in . a generation
Enforce free, secular education and adopt the principle
of replacing private competition and monopoly for gain
by collective co-operation for use, and thirty years would
see society reformed.
Many signs show that this era is rapidly approaching,
and none is more significant then the much abhorred
growth of monopoly. The concentration and combina-
tion of industries now being promoted by rings, trusts
and stock companies, though prompted by selfish greed,
are really preparing the way for the assumption of these
enterprises by the community as soon as the people see
the opportunity for carrying them on for their own
benefit, as they now do the postal service. The able
men, who for their own gain, are now uniting, harmon-
izing and economizing the great enterprises, are uncon-
THE OPEN COURT.
577
sciously preparing them for operation bv the com-
munitv. When they fully prove that an entire industry
of a country can he operated successfully under a central
management, they have shown that its nationalization is
practicable.
To repeat and condense the ideas here expressed, it
may be said :
The cause of poverty is the lack of remunerative
employment.
The reason for scarcity of employment is that desir-
able work is not undertaken unless it will yield a profit
to those who control the means for its performance, —
the money, land, buildings or instruments needed for
production.
The way to increase employment is to have all
needed things produced for use and not for gain.
The way to secure production for use is for the peo-
ple, combined nationally or muncipally, to take control
of all enterprises employing labor. As they have already
done with the post-office, they should do with water
and fuel supplies, gas, telegraphs, railroads, factories, and"
in time, as fitness indicates, with all industries.
Employment for all may be secured by shortening
the hours of labor and increasing production.
All who work should receive the means of a com-
fortable support.
Education, and the inculcation of the substitution of
universal co-operation in the place of individual competi-
tion for gain, will prepare men to make use of the
opportunities for the change now being prepared by
the combination of industries.
THE RELIGION OF HUMANITY.
BY WILLfAM CHATTERTOX COUPLAND.
There is not a little to be said for what may be called
the Non- regulative Educational Principle, or the method
of allowing the growing mind to seek its own element,
and to take its own direction, the more experienced and
enlightened only interfering with their admonitions and
wise words, when poison simulates wholesome food or a
hasty step would conduct to inevitable ruin. Certain at
last it is, that much precious time is wasted in most lives
in trying to assimilate alleged good things for which
there is no proper faculty, and in endeavoring to walk
according to the rigid pattern of some approved posture-
master.
The function of the pedagogue is indeed much
narrower than professional vanity would have it sup-
posed, and the utility of express didactics in regard to
conduct must be amazingly small if one reflect for a
moment on the hebdomadal ethical seed that is so gen-
erously scattered, and consider how little of it takes root
and can be said to pay its cost.
"Let us not teach and preach so much," the poet's
very sensible monition, might with advantage be nailed
on many a pretentious edifice and engraved on not a
few well-meaning but too zealous hearts. The lessons
which need no repetition, or the homilies which most
bite into the soul, are nut sit down in any school-book,
and come from the "golden mouth" of no licensed orator.
"The wind bloweth where it listeth, * * * and
so is everyone that is horn of the spirit "' is an aphorism
of wider application than its enunciator intended, and
even in these days of scientific prying has not quite lost
significance. Drill and cram may lead hosts to victory
and win a high pi. ice in college-rolls, but the man —
the individual man — gains his discipline in the collision
of influences too subtle for pre-arrangement — the
illumination that truly enlightens is attained without
expenditure of midnight oil.
In short, the two virtues that we are in danger of
losing in a competitive and hurried epoch are the virtues
of genuine thought and of patient mastery of principles
before proceeding to practice. We stock our heads with
scraps of information and imagine we know ; we are so
eager to "be up and doing " that we reck little whether
we are sowing tares or useful grain. The average
Englishman or American hardly believes in anything
but a life of bustle, — he must endow this hospital, agitate
for that charity-bill, clamor for the latest device of some
goverment official whose heart is sounder than his head
— anything, in short, but sit still patiently, trace evils to
their sources, and then apply the axe to the root of the
tree, thereby saving the waste of energy which might
have dealt a final blow at a giant wrong.
No less mistaken is the belief that second-hand
knowledge can dispense with independent thinking.
What we call truths are not truths for us till we discover
them. How often do we realize the experience of re-
peating some stock phrase till it is known by rote, and
then one day, when some simple question is put in refer-
ence to it, or a definition of its terms be required, we find
to our astonishment that we have merely been carrying
about with us a piece of verbal lumber — that it never has
been knowledge to us, although it might have been
knowledge, and important knowledge too, to some long-
forgotten student. On the other hand, seemingly dead
knowledge may all at once quicken into life through
strange influences which we cannot analyze, and what we
had hitherto regarded as a conjurer's empty verbiage
suddenly appears to contain a spell that might move a
world.
'•Old things need not be therefore fine,
O brother men, nor yet the new,"
chants the sagacious Clough — and for this reason, that
new and old have reference really to the chronology of
each several learner, and what to you may be traditional
doctrine to me may be original discovery.
There is a small word, the significance of which is
supposed to be patent to the meanest intelligence, and
57S
THE OPEN COURT.
the possession of what it is supposed to stand for is
taken as the peculiar work of a sane mind. That word
is real. Is it not an almost hourly question — "Is this
object real?'1'' What are we not all aiming at but to
grasp the real? And what greater slur can we cast
upon a fellow- man than to aver that his life is spent
among things that are not real, — in all the applications
taking it for granted that we ourselves and everybody
else know so well what we were talking about that it
hardly ever occurs to us to give the matter a moment's
thought. And yet there is no term in the vocabulary
of mankind that has had a more curious fate, being a
very Proteus for the forms it has taken to the reflective
consciousness; so much so indeed that it has been made
to stand upon its head as it were, and signifies to this
eminent thinker the precise contrary it imports to that
one, so that the reproach of one age or school has been the
glory of another. And this, notwithstanding complete
unanimity as to what the word is wanted for — the feel-
ing that prompts to the verbal sign is identical at what-
ever stage ofintellectu.il culture the mind has arrived, —
but what is the thought that is sought to be fixed once
for all by this general term is the subtile entity that is
always eluding our embrace.
Shall we cut short at once the discussion, and say
the matter is of private interpretation, and as we do not
insist upon all the world having the same dreams, so a
man's waking creed — that which must underlie his
rational practice — is also private and individual, and pro-
vided he has the courage of his opinions he is no object
for criticism, still less a subject f<>r conversion? To
which the answer merely is simply, that the idea we are
in quest of is precisely that which we wish most thor-
oughly to distinguish from " dreams. " In fact, the dream
is just the not-real, and to throw the two into the same
cate«or\ is to reduce us to the incoherence of idiotcy.
It is precisely what we want to be saved from, that dream-
life. It plays a part in the sum total of experience,
but a very subordinate part, and a part that we do not
care to dwell upon, the mass of mankind having always
rt garded him who takes too much account of his "dreams'
somewhat as the opium-eattr, who loses moral fibre in
proportion as he partakes of the fatal thug. I fancy
there is no getting quit of this trouhlesome question in
that fashion — the an^el must he wrestled with until he
gives his hlessing — he will not melt out of our sight like
a spectral illusion by a mere turning aside of the eye.
There are people, who, when a topic of this sort is
broached, are apt to b initated and to ex laim that life
is too brief for such inquiries; that there is quite enough
to ojcupy the intellect in the field of palpable observation;
that to deal with facts and the relative of facts (positive
science) is the task of man so far as he chooses to be
theoretical at all, and that metaphysics are waste of
energy. Glib words — words that have a ring of self-
sufficiency about them that is highly composing logically,
especially in a busy age, but, for all that, slightly hollow
as a little steady scrutiny quickly shows.
For that are these facts to which we are to confine
ourselves? Are they not the same mysteries which
baffled us before? If Reality be obscure, every Fact
cannot be plain. Or is it intended by the substitution of
terms to emphasize a protest that man's concern is only
with that which is derivative and secondary, not funda-
mental and ultimate — with events in time and objects in
space, with flesh and blood, properties and attributes, not
with soul and the substantial ? If such be the intention, the
word Fact at least must be dropped out of the discussion,
for no reading of Fact yet given can make it coincident
with the Seeming; and this "seeming" if inserted into
the fervid exhortation to the lover of common-sense
will be the rose that does not smell as sweet.
To be plain — there is a superstition of Modern
Belief that is beginning to impair the blessings of
Scientific Progress — a superstition that, like older
superstitions, may one day be a formidable foe to the free
future race — the finality-spirit that ever shows itself when
a new intellectual system attains to power. What the
stereotyped dogmas have been to the Church, attempts
to close the book of developments at a certain chapter,
because its readers were too blind to see anything but
blank pages beyond, such a baneful agency may become
an impirical creed that refuses to sound depths that are
assumed to be vacant of life because the latest explorer
has had no instrument fine enough to detect its presence.
Coherence and system are excellent things, hut they
may be purchased at too high a rate. All men would
welcome a neat and rounded-off theory of the world, an
all sufficing creed that could stand battering in detail
without losing its essential completeness, a doctrine so
satisfactory that we could lay down on our beds and be
certain that to-morrow's sun would smile on no prophet
born in a manger who might displace our spiritual
centre and establish a new order of convictions that
would disarrange customary values and confuse our gold
with dross.
Is it apostacy from genuine free-thought to cry " No
finality, even though the finality be that of a methodized
common-sense?" Rational the creed of the future will
be inevitably, but what is the test of rationality? A
creed wholly without fiction or myth; but where is our
scientific puritan who has renounced for ever all
mythology? A creed whose God is a Real Being, and
whose Law of Duty is obligatory because its function
can be felt and seen ; but is there no infusion of the Ideal
in every conception of the Real, and where is the
sanction that can say arrest the suicide's arm?
I consider it no mark of Progress to narrow the
range of human speculation. It is a mark of progress
not to confuse distinct provinces of knowledge, to require
THE OPEN COURT.
579
a critique of the faculty of knowledge itself, to scrutinize
every claimant for a place in the ranks of the genuinely
Real; but it is no mark of Progress, no sign of better
self-knowledge to close the eves that are shamming
with the Infinite, to refuse a hearing to certain questions
because every answer must be clothed in the form ot a
finite consciousness, to silence every striving that
threatens to disturb the harmony of a superficial
existence for the reason that similar emotions have been
accountable for some strange vagaries before now.
To my groping vision, endeavoring to read the signs
of the times, the Intellectual Creed now demanded is the
marriage of Transcendentalism and Positive Knowledge.
The higher minds of an older time, trying to steady
themselves in a world that was ever changing, that never
remained for one moment the same, rushed to the con-
clusion that only where change was not, could True
Being be; that Reality was out of all experience — was
supernatural. Had there been no race to rear, no land
to till, no cities to build, such a creed of pure Intellect-
ualism might have won acceptance. It gained adherents,
and still continues to flourish where the clanking forge
is unheard, in the serenity of the cloister where common
thoughts are profane — not where merchants congregate
but where the secular thought for the time is ignored,
and the only speech is that of the hjmn and the prayer.
Anything but strange is it therefore, that as the energies
are diverted into channels altogether alien from the
occupations of the Church, as attention is claimed by
objects of sense, as men come to find an unsuspected
order in the mutations of the supposed inert physical
world, that they shall see only emptiness where their
fathers alone saw palaces, and that the Real should
become synonymous with the Concrete, the Apparent,
the Ever-moving. If the Christian Church essayed to
methodize Trancendentalism, disparaged the terrestial life
as but a flitting of shadows, a sort of drudge's doom that
would be speedily exchanged for a courtly career, the
Humanitarian creed exalts the earth-life, and permptorily
forbids its members to indulge imagination where sense
furnishes no clue. So persuaded of its truth is this way of
thinking that it sees the essence of the old creed in its
newer system, and declares that the God which the
ecstatic Fathers ignorantly worshipped was its own
finite Deity in disguise, that man can and must adore
man, and that we are at once our own creators and
destroyers!
No such painful identification of contradictories is,
however, plausible. Nothing is ever gained by attempts
to slur fundamental differences; and between the
Transcendentalist conception of a princely and spaceless
realm inhabited by pure spirit, and a world that is only
made of human consciousness there is no point of contact.
The Hagiolatry of the Mediaeval Church was a lapse
from the purity the old religion, which finds its true
expression in the Spiritualism of John — and an litre
Supreme that dies without Resurrection is hardly the
S>u of God who dwells forever at the right hand oi the
Father.
Is then the solution of the problem to b- found in
the shearing away of the transcendental elem nts ol the
older creeds and the attempted co-ordination of the
present results of finite knowledge? Is a creed that we
can look all round, that has no intractable remainder, to
satisfy the coming Age? What answer do s experience
give? Are the old blessings deserted? Is the decay of
Theology in direct ratio to the spread of Science? is the
longing to peer behind the veil dying of lack of
satisfaction? Or are not the facts just the other way i
Is not Science itself coming to raise its own altar to an
Unknown Power? Is not an Unseen Universe- the
universe that still holds the lives of myraids? In the
light of day ghosts do not appear — in a world when- all
is Natural there should be noroom tor owe. Yet, voices
are still subdued in the Chamber of Death, and there
are organ-tones that stir strange depths which no social
experience ever reaches. To describe these and the like
as "Survivals" is not to explain Survivals of what?
Survivals of primitive tendencies that have never been
wanting to the race — tendencies to see the Infinite
enshrouding tue Finite, yearnings to tike the wings of
morning and soar far above the clatter of the terrestial
home and its ever-renewed disappointmen s.
Now, suppose we cancel the denials of both Old and
New Catholic — affirm with the one that we are children
of Caste and Heirs of Terrestial Ages, having no power
of love but for our kith and kin, and counting it a duty
and an act of gratitude, however paradoxical, to spend
and be spent for our descendants, to whom we are nothing
— yet declare with the other that that which we
essentially are can fit into no temporal framework, even
though it be measured by processions of centuries, from
the first gibbering ape to the last angel-biowed man, —
supposing, 1 say, we make so bold as to affirm that the
fusion of the Permanent and Transient is alone woithy
to be called Positive Philosophy and Positive Religion,
shall we he looking back to abandoned positions and
attempting a compromise that is factitious and uncalled
for? I answer No, neither the one nor t1 e other. The
position has not been maint lined, and theieforec nnot
be abandoned; and so far from being a welding together
of heterogeneous materials it is a spontaneous fusion of
elements that have ever been present in human aspiration
and desire. And as to its being uncall'd for, it is, I
believe, the one thing wanting to the world's intellectual
contentment.
You cannot conjure the ghost out of youi haunted
chamber by merely leiterating " There is nothing there."
Every unwilling inmate testifies by his v;>gue present-
ment that he is nigh an unseen presence. And vou
58o
THE OPEN COURT.
cannot confine your thinking in a strait waistcoat,
although you may label it "dangerous," and, even
less politely, " idiotic and unmeaning." And why
attempt these feats? Why confine us in cages when we
pant for unlimited room? To produce happy families
by bringing our fellow-beings so close that we cannot
breathe any atmosphere but that of human breath?
Such trials as have been made on small scales do not
augur well for larger experiments. In affairs of life it
is mischievous to lose sense of proportion ; and to
exaggerate Humanity till it occupies the Universe, is
certainly to cutdo the Idolatries against which the
world's prophet-sentinels have never ceased to warn.
On the other hand, no one who has at all caught the
modern spirit, who has followed the life of recent science,
can kneel again at the old altars and help to swell the
chorus of other- world believers. How can we possibly
repeat prayers that are strewn with demonstrable
fictions, listen to sermons that suppose the world to have
stood intellectually still for nearly twenty centuries? I
am not a just-baptized Jew, and do not feel edified by
being informed that I have been, or must be, washed in
the blood of the Lamb; and highly as I venerate the
Apostle of the Gentiles I cannot honestly say that his
letters appeal to me, a citizen of modern London, with
the forcibleness and convincingness they doubtless
possessed for the men of ancient Corinth and Galatia.
While the Church's Bible is not big enough, and its
psalmody too monotonous, its liturgy is, alas! a bar to all
communion, proceeding on assumed relations of Creature
and Creator that employed the ingenuity of many a
devotee to reconcile with every-day assumptions. Can
the Church widen its doors and prune its ritual so as to
admit the pantheist and the materialist? And yet a
Church that Is incompetent to that cannot henceforward
be a National Church. There is a crass dualism in its
Theology, that revolts him to whom it is axiomatic that
God must be One with His World — there is an assumed
independence of this rational nature that flouts the
plainest feelings of the biologist.
The Creed of Humanity that is to support the
Religion of Humanity, must be a statement of the whole
fundamental truth that is implicit in the thinking of
Humanity. There will be nothing optional in its
articles, lor they sign themselves, — they are the inde-
structible shadows of our own personality. The partial
dogmas that have divided the world will contribute their
qui ta to the Universal Faith, and Materialist, Idealist,
Theist, all present an offering that we cannot safely
ignore.
When the Materialist says that all the forms of
vegetable and animal life, even including man, are
transitory shapings of a Reality that is itself indestruct-
ible, homogeneous, and insentient, he proclaims a truth
the certainty of which is derived from no induction.
When the Idealist says Phenomena are mental
Phenomena, and that we can no more affirm an Unknow-
able than the bird can fly in a perfect vacuum — that
there can never be substance without attribute — he too
is proclaiming a truth that is drawn from the very
texture of our mind. And when the Theist says the
forms of Time are but the expressions of One Eternal
Order, a completed harmony that only appears capricious
and chaotic to an intelligence that picks it out bit by bit,
he too confesses a truth which the religious consciousness
of mankind is ever struggling to confess in its various
tribal adorations of "Jehovah, Jove, or Lord," in its
admission of an Ultimate Unknowable Power, even in
its worship of Humanity.
Our childhood's dreams are not dispelled, our
youthful hopes still remain to us, — this world is not a
world of 7?ierc change, the Soul's Immortality is not a
fiction, and the trust in an unbroken and ever-present
rule stands firmer than ever. We may be assured that
whatever we can do without in our thought is no
essential of our creed, but whatever returns upon our
hands, and cannot be dismissed by an effort of will, is a
portion of necessary truth.
Although I cannot repeat the formularies of my
brother in his admired cathedral, I can watch his devo-
tion with respectful sympathy, and also without any
longing to be kneeling beside him once again and lisping
the old prayers as when a boy. I, too, bend the knee,
although he does not see me; my prayer, too, might be
heard if he could comprehend its dialect; but, though
parted by such distances of expression that we can no
more commune than two children of the same parents
who have been reared in diverse climes and among men
of alien race, we } et are nearer than we are apt to
suppose, and might be nearer still if our faith were really
stronger.
The reasons why different sects are so very slow in
composing their differences is, in a great degree, to be
traced to a baseless fear that knowledge and criticism
will rob them of their priceless possessions — their hopes
and trusts. When the critic of past beliefs points out
how much in the systems of former times is a compound
of fraud and delusion; when the scientific lecturer, after
carefully sorting his facts, goes on to show that the skies
are brainless, and so there can be no Supreme Intelligence
that nothing but an unreasoning affection testifies to a
consciousness beyond the grave, — we shudder as if our
dearest friend had been torn ruthlessly from our side
and as if a pall had descended upon a corpse like Nature.
Be it noted, however, that the understanding is powerless
to destroy what the understanding is powerless to create.
If the Understanding has begotten Theism, the Under-
standing can destroy Theism; if the Understanding has
persuaded you that there is a future life, the Under-
THE OPEN COURT.
581
standing, with some acuter syllogism, can rob juu of the
precious fable.
Did ever any man believe in the constancy of Nature
because he could prove it? Assuredly not, because that
would need omniscience. It is a postulate which renders
possible every step we take.
But observe, there is no justification for believing
anything that is not a practical necessity. There is a
justification for assuming that the world, as perceived by
us, is a mere phantasmagoria; there is no justification,
nay, there is nonsense in believing that the percipient
element in us is phantasmagoric too. /am not an object,
I am not a thing among many things; you cannot put
me in a grave, and see me crumble into dust! Only the
mythologizing propensity at once begins to operate
on these rarefied materials, and gets farther and farther
from the purity of the necessary postulates of Existence,
till it comes to translate its dogma of the Immortality of
the Soul into a conscious continuation of the fellow-man
who lately walked and dwelt beside us. That the Soul
which is Eternal and Immortal is the soul that was
never born, is the / Am that is from everlasting to
everlasting — the soul that said " I and my Father are
One."
From such transcendental heights I hear the reader
recall me to the common things of earth ; and I willingly
come, as these are things almost too great for lonely
whispers; but my point in this paper is to make plain
that the foundation for a world-religion must be as wide
and deep as the implicit consciousness of human mind
It may be said, doubtless, by some but we can get on
very well without these mystic assumptions; we prefer
the Agnostic attitude, which is content with every-day
Knowledge, with that intellectual outfit that is sufficient
for leading a decent and comfortable life. And an
Agnosticism which acts up to its professions is worth
indefinitely more than nine-tenths of the Gnosticism
the blatant orthodoxy, that is posted up in all celestia,
and infernal news. But while Agnosticism may be
well, there is perchance something better. Man, the
Aspiring Man, the heir of a grand Evolution — Man, who
gazes into the face of Nature, not with stupid wonder,
as at a piece of incomprehensible mechanism, but as a
critic who stands before an equal or even superior — Man
cannot long resign himself to self-effacement, but will
claim his full birthright, and will know as he is known.
And one last powerful reason to recommend the
theological position I have been advocating: It purges
Duty of everything arbitrary, by providing for it a
foundation too stable to be ever moved. When we come
to see that our relations extend into the infinite; that
what we do is of moment not to this hour or that; that
the conscious self is but the representative of a Self that
knows no limit of time and space, — we then see that to
be faithless to the principles of this broadest Education
of justice is not to desert this or that party of the
hour, but to be recreant to a solemn trust. The Positive
System of Auguste Comte, for which I have a high
regard, deepens the sense of responsibility in a way that
no previous Creed has done, by making us trustees for
the human race considered as an organic whole. I only
invite it to ascend one step higher — to recognize the
relation of each single member, not only to his kind and
to the tiny sphere of which he is a denizen, but to the
whole universe of conscious perception, to the Fountain
of Vitality that flowed before Humanity was born, and
that will continue to flow when Humanity's death-hour
has long been past.
NEW VIEWS OF RELIGION AND ETHICS.
(Concluded.)
BY F. M. HOLLAND.
The idea of life which supplies M. Gii)au with a
system of philosophy destined, ultimately, to take the place
of all the religions, leads, he thinks, to a better theory of
ethics than utilitarianism, which has proved itself unable
to state the chief end of man in the form of a sufficient
basis for moral obligation. Mill seems to him vision-
ary; the representation made by that Spinoza of Pos-
tivism, Herbert Spencer, of disinterestedness as instinc-
tive, errs in enthroning instinct above the will; while all
attempts to exchange individual happiness for universal
happiness, as the real aim of men, involve inconsistencies
and illusions. The only practical view appears to be
the very limited one which is stated thus: " The moral-
ity founded upon actual facts alone is the science whose
subject is every means of preserving and increasing
material or intellectual life." "Thus the laws of moral-
ity are identical with those of life, and are, in their most
general statements, the same for all living creatures."
" A positive morality can differ but little from an en-
larged hygiene." " Increasing the intensity of life
means increasing the reign of activity in all its forms, to
the degree compatible with the reparation of vital forces."
"The highest intensity of life must be accompanied by
its greatest possible expansion." " Life can maintain it-
self only by diffusing itself. " " The most perfect or-
ganism is the most sociable; and the ideal of individual
life is universal life." " Scientific ethics can issue to the
individual only this commandment: 'Develop thy life
in every direction; become as rich as possible in exten-
sion of energy, as well as intensity; and therefore make
thyself the most sociable of beings.'" " When our ex-
pansive force becomes conscious of its own power, it
takes the name of duty." "Action is the moral ideal ; and
idleness is the worst of all vices." (Esy/u'ssc, pp. 11,
72, i&\ 25, 205, 24Q.)
These are all the statements of any importance made
by M. Guyau of his own theory; for most of the book
which sets it forth is occupied with criticism of oppo-
582
THE OPEN COU RT
nents. This is rendered necessary by his failure, as is con-
fessed in his title, Esquisse if line Morale sans Obliga-
tion nc Sanction, either to furnish any satisfactory basis
of moral obligation, or to recognize any legitimate mo-
tives to virtue, except desire of activity and of develop-
ment. Valuable as this emotion is, when properly sup-
plemented and regulated by other well-known sanctions
to virtue of greater force and higher quality, it is defec-
tive in many ways. It has little power over old or even
middle-aged people, especially those who, like M. Giiyau,
have no' faith in immortality. There arc many savage
tribes, and some classes of civilized society, whose mem-
bers show scarcely any love of activity for its own sake,
and no desire for development. The book would not
have much effect on the Turk, who cannot see why
European ladies and gentlemen dance themselves instead
of telling their servants to; or on the Buddhist, who re-
gards action as evil, and hopes only to sink into Nirvana.
The belief that heaven is perfect rest has too much cur-
rency, even among Christians, to allow us to feel much
confidence in desire to enlarge and intensify life as a mo-
tive to goodness. Even those who feel it most keenly,
namely young and healthy people, eager in the pursuit
of pleasure or of success in business, art, literature, or
politics, do not usually show themselves so sympathetic
with suffering, so considerate of others' rights, and so
firm against all temptations to self-indulgence, as proves
that they can safely dispense with all the other moral
sanctions. So narrow a foundation is scarcely sufficient
for self-culture, and supplies no room for justice or pur-
ity. The safety of society demands such recognition of
others' rights, and such control of our own passions, as
must be inspired by very different motives from desire to
make life large, active, and intense. M. Guyau says him-
self that the drunkard has such intensity in his pleasure
as is not possessed by sober people. La Morale Ang-
lo isc, p. 206'.
Intensity almost always means excess; and all excess
is unhealthy and vicious. Life needs to be regulated as
as well as stimulated, and to be directed by much higher
considerations than mere regard for its own intensity and
size. Two lives might be precisely similar in these re-
pects, and yet differ immeasurably in moral purity,
wealth and grandeur. M. Guyau, with thpt honesty to
himself and his readers which characterizes all his work,
and which can scarcely be praised too highly, closes his
presentation of his theory by frankly comparing it to a
ship without a rudder. Rut this is precisely what a sys-
tem of ethics ought to give; and the defect is fatal. If
we could suppose, with him, that all other teachers are
liable to the same objection, our duty would be to try and
discover some new system so much better than any
which has been taught by him, or any one else, as to be
reallv capable of guiding us aright. Most readers will,
however, feel themselves justified by his admission that
he cannot give what they need, in continuing to hold the
system of morality which has satisfied them hitherto, and
trying to make the best of it. Some, at least, will agree
with me that he does not appreciate the truth and value
of utilitarianism, as presented in a book, of which he
speaks too briefly, The Emotions and the Will, by
Alexander Bain. This system which is essentially Dar-
win's, may also be found in Leslie Stephens' Science of
Ethics. Its fundamental positions are as follows: We
cannot live without the aid of society; and society can
exist only in conformity with certain conditions, among
which is observance of the laws of justice, benevolence,
self-culture and self-control. These moral laws are con-
ditions of social welfare, which thus becomes the moral
standard. Actions by which the community flourishes
are right; and those detrimental to general prosperity are
wrong. Our relations with other members of society
make us willing to comply with the conditions of social
welfare. This willingness is increased bv our disinter-
ested sympathy with our neighbors, by the force of pub-
lic opinion, by the vigor with which the laws of the land
punish dishonesty and other conduct flagrantly injurious
to the safety and prosperity of society, and by our know-
ledge that enlightened self-interest favors observance of
the moral law. The action of these influences in the past
has created that sense of obligation, irrespective of per-
sonal advantage which we call conscience, and the pres-
ent power of these influences in favor of virtue is strong
enough to make them very precious as moral sanctions.
Thus the conflict between the claims of individual and
universal happiness is closed by subordinating both to
the higher standard of social welfare, which last has the
further advantage of being no question of feeling but a
definite matter of fact. The moral laws needed for re-
gulating and directing individual life, are given by thus
subjecting it to the conditions of harmony with social
life. This system is in such full accord with the most
advanced teachings of science, that it can hold its own
against all attack; and it is likely to gain immensely from
such ingenious, scholarly, impartial and, in every re-
spect, noble criticisms as have been published by M.
Guvau.
THE SECULARIZATION OF RELIGION.
Part I.
11 Y M. c. o'byrne.
" God is a blank sheet upon which nothing is found
but what we have ourselves written." In this almost
Protagorean dictum, Martin Luther seems to have an-
ticipated Kant's affirmation — " It is reflecting Reason
which brought Design into the world, and which ad-
mires a wonder created by itself." The master key to
all mysteries is ready to our hand in the thesis of Prota-
goras,* the never-to-be confuted proposition which we
*Vide Encv. Britain, Sth <sd., sub-Jocc "Protagoras," and Lewi's' " History
of Philosophy— The Sophists."
THE OPEN COtl RT.
583
find in the " Thesetetus " of Plato, who was the avowed
opponent of the great ': Sophist." In reply to These-
tetus, Socrates says: "At any rate thou riskest the ar-
gument not badly, it has been said concerning knowl-
edge, indeed Protagoras said it; but some express the
same another way. For he affirms man to be the
measure [//frpoi^ measure standard^ of all things, — of
those existing, that they are; of those not existing, that
they are not."
In a paper like The Open Court, designed to pro-
mote religious, scientific, and philosophic innovation, it
is surely appropriate for us to attempt to discover an
eirenicon between the two contending schools of the-
ologv and science, and to reconcile these if possible.
Such an eirenicon can be found in Antosisni; * and now
that the Kantian Revival has been followed by an awak-
ened interest in the works of Bishop Berkeley, it seems
to me that both reason and emotion may he mutually
satisfied by the recognition of our virtual identity with
the universe and of the simple yet magnificent truth
that our creation of all ideas really makes us one with
all thoughts and objects of thoughts, including the ex-
ternal universe and its hypothetical Nous or Proedros.
With respect to this confessedly desirable reconciliation
of religion and science we may say, as Kant says of the
possibility of synthetic judgments a priori : " The only
way this can be done is to recognize from the first that
thought and things are not diverse or dualistic. The
one does not exist apart from the other. Objects are not
passively apprehended by the mind, as something dis-
tinct from it, but are actively constructed by it. Intelli-
gence is present from the first in this creation. Apart
from mind they are nothing, or, at least, nothing to us,
or, at most, merely from less materials, supplied to the
senses." Spinoza's advice to his hostess, not to change
or seek for another religion, but to add to her piety " the
tranquil virtues of domestic life," was doubtless suggested
by the philosopher's conviction that these same tranquil
virtues would inevitably be imperiled were the founda-
tion upon which thev rested shaken or removed. Ex-
perience and observation assure us that with regard to
mere negation we must say, Ex niliilo nihil fit, and even
Christianity as formulated by the Church of Rome is
better both for the individual and for society than a con-
dition of mental and moral chaos and anarchy which
leaves the victim to drift a derelict on the wide ocean of
uncertainty, sooner or later to founder in the vortex of
those licentious indulgences which, unrestrained, would
first deprave and then annihilate domestic life. It is
surely easy to provide a succedaneum for aught that we
may eliminate, as, for example, when we substitute for
the trinal-unity of imagination and phantasy the real
trinity of Man, Gcd, and the World — " ct ta»icn non
♦The term selected by "Julian," an eminent English scholar and man of
lettcis, whose reasons for crvptonymv I have no right to question.
trcs, sed units "* — a clear corollary from the acknowl-
edged fact the mind can never soar beyond or outside of
itself, and that therefore man is wholly and solely the
"measure of all things," the maker and originator of all
the gods of the Pantheon and of all the demons of the
Miltonic Pandemonium.
In order to secularize religion it is necessary that we
rationalize it; by which I mean, first, that we clearly
demonstrate that every claim advanced by and for the
founders of supernatural religions can be legitimately
made by each one of us for ourselves, and, secondly,
that we show that in the ultimate analysis all things
whatever, whether gods or revelation of gods, are sub-
jective things (thinks), cerebal creations — centric or ex-
centric — and that we may and do assert and claim on
behalf of the perceptive and abstract and formative
powers of our own minds all that the very highest form
of supernatural religion can possiblv ascribe to its di-
vinity. It is impossible for man to know anything apart
from himself, just as Kepler, in the " Supplement to
Yitellio," found it utterly beyond his power to explain
why it is that we do not — as according to Optics we
ought to — behold things inverted or upside down.
Whether subjective or objective, at bottom everything
is cerebral, the resultant of our generative Egoity — that
is to say, the ideas which Berkeley rightly claimed to
have " shown to exist only in the mind that perceives
them"- are products of cerebration existing only as such
because of the existence of the properly organized
human brain, their material source and fountain. For
us they have no noumenal existence, since, until we can
detach ourselves from ourselves — until, as it were, we
can retain our powers of ideation and perception, even
though some vivisector should cut slices away from the
hemispherical ganglia of the encephalon — we cannot
possibly consider anything as being purely objective to
us. In this process of rationalizing religion we must not
be impatient or discouraged because we find our labor
attended by no apparent immediate results. In due time
these will be manifested, but it must be remembered that
in endeavoring to place religion on a rational basis, we are
engaged in a work commensurate in magnitude to the
founding of Christianity or to the effectuating of the
Protestant Reformation.
The present age — like all ages of marked intellectual
activity — is remarkable for its excesses. On the one
♦Autosisin, or Hylo-Idealism, inasmuch as it traces to. and virtually iden
tirics with, a material organ — the brain — all consciousness, may be said really to
rationalize the hypostases both of the Athan isian and Alexandrian trinity. The
T/teos of the former, and the Nous of the latter are nothing more than abstrac-
tions created by the human brain. As ideas, they are equally real with man
and the world, but in no sense can thev transcend their maker. If man can
think nothing higher than himself, it is impossible for him to rise to the vera
idea of a man-transcending Godhead. Any and every idea he can form of
such must be simply a human, an anthropoid, or anthropomorphic one, an
egoistic projection of himself, varying as his own mind grows, matures, and
declines. Such an idea must be an eidolon, not a vera effigies of ineffable
splendor which would surely blast our mental vision as the appearance of Ju-
piter blasted Semele.
5*4
THE OPEN COURT.
hand we find culture, refinement, and hard-heartedness;
on the other, the toiling millions and their hapless misery
loom up terribly lurid in the light of the luxury of the
cultured few. History tells us that all such former high-
civilizations have been subverted and overthrown pre-
cisely at the epochs when the votaries of science, art, and
"culture" were lulled in the pleasing dreams of indefi-
nite progress. Then came the cataclysm, and for a time,
where formerly existed the civilization, there was almost
a tabula rasa, the so-called progress having been entirely
swamped and brought to naught. While we do not
question the value, whether for good or for evil, of all
our mechanical triumphs, — the application of steam, elec-
tricity, etc., — we must surely doubt whether all this ac-
quired power over nature has been accompanied by such
a corresponding advance in clear reason as is requisite
to preserve the necessary equilibrium. Already we hear
the suggestive muttering of the millions, the warning
rumbling which precedes the dread upheaval. Shall we
cherish a delusion? Shall we continue to regard that
as peace where there is no peace? Shall we persist in
futilely raising up dykes and barriers of statutes and or-
dinances which merely serve to swell the volume of pent
up discontent? If, as Sthenelos said to Agamemnon,
we may " boast to be the superiors of our fathers," we
ought assuredly to be able to correct abuses, to remove
anomalies, and to liberate society from all the evils which
now constitute its opprobrium and reproach — and for
which we cannot fairly blame either one particular class
or one particular caste of our fellow- men — without
having recourse fb the purgative methods of old time,
without the dread arbitrament of fire and sword. If
religion has any real raison d' etrc, any practical value,
it must be in the direction of binding together that
which without religion would be disintegrated.
The readers of this paper have recently been told that
the basis of religion depends upon the final settlement of
the relationship between mind and body and between
mind and nature in general. I say to nature, rather
than to "physical nature," because the latter phrase is
somewhat tautological. Speaking for myself alone, I
am quite willing to make this the basis of religion — in-
deed, I can discern no other alternative open to me as a
rational being. In making this acknowledgment I do
not mean that we are bound over, as Lewes writes, to
" the reproduction of all the questions which agitated the
Greeks," for in that case we should probably fall into
"a similar course of development" and be "left in this
nineteenth century precisely at the same point at which
we were in the fifth."* In our age it is assuredly pos-
sible for us "to build on a firm scientific foundation,"-]-
rather than on blind surmises. The latter, albeit sup-
ported by great names, would but serve as so many
♦Lewes, "History of Philosophy," Vol. IV., Conclusion.
fOPEN Coirt, Vol. I., Xo. i6, p. 424.
will-o'-the-wisps; we must trust to our own reason, be
the result what it may, rather than to authority. Indeed,
we may well begin by asking if the " authorities " ot
to-day are any greater than Hegel, Fichte, or Schelling
— yet where is their philosophy now? There is, I be-
lieve, in the churchyard at Ragatz, Switzerland, where
he died — having gone thither to drink the " indifferent "
waters of Bad Pfeffer — a monument to Schelling,
erected by his pupil, the King of Bavaria. On this
monument Schelling is called " der grosste Dcnker
Deutschlands;" '* but where is his denken now? May
we not find the answer in Schopenhauer and in the fact
— as I have been given to understand — of the complete
neglect, and indeed contempt, with which contemporary
Germany now treats her " greatest thinker? "
The rationalization of religion is in no degree
dependent upon our first explaining the "nature of
life." This but few among us would either pretend or
care to do if we desire to escape being beguiled into
metaphysical and eschatological labyrinths which have
for thousands of years, as Lewes so clearly shows, led to
no practical result except to make those who wander
therein utterly unfit to render mankind any real service.
Such " thinkers ""are only frightful examples, buoys to
indicate the position of quicksands fatal to reason and
common-sense.
"Mad Mathesis alone was unconfin'd,
Too mad for mere material chains to bind ;
Now on pure Space fixed her ecstatic stare,
Now running round the circle finds it square."
Assuming that the majority of the readers of this
paper are prepared to identify irrational religion with
the current form of supernaturalism, I may fairly pre-
sume that they are willing to avail themselves of the best
means of converting what is confessedly irrational into a
rational religious system. Let us suppose that some one
contributor honestly believes himself to be in possession
of the most perfect and complete medium for overthrow-
ing this current supernaturalism : would it not, in such a
case, be most unwise on our part if we were to shirk
coming to close quarters with this great truth if we felt
that, besides annihilating superstition in religion, it would
also consign the most sacred faiths and philosophical
dogmas, all metaphysics and ideology of every kind, into
the limbo of exploded fallacies? Such a perfect and
complete medium I find comprehended in one estab-
lished experimental fact — namely, that if we cut slices
from the hemispherical ganglia of the brain we neither
cause pain, convulsions, nor impaired vital functions of
any kind, but we merely render our victim stupid or, in
other words, deprive him of mentality. Does not this
make the inference logically imperative that as muscle
is the seat of muscular motion, the vesiculo-neurine of
the brain is also that of cogitation ; and is not this a com-
*"The greatest thinker of Germany."
THE OPEN COURT.
58S
plete, positive, and physical substantiation of the position
of those who maintain that mind (consciousness) is brain
function and nothing more? I say " nothing more," be-
cause surely logic forbids us to assume two reasons for
phenomena when one reason is found amply sufficient.
What other reason can we want, when we bear in mind
that at bottom we can explain nothing, and that we are
in respect to other organs and their functions precisely
in the same situation as we are to the brain, which is
homologous with them: The established data of
physics, such as the facts of gravity, anti-phlogosis, and
the absence of any immaterial factor in animal function,
cannot now be denied. Each of these is capable of being
converted into a principle which I regard as being utterly,
absolutely, fatal to every form whatever of immaterial-
ism or supernaturalism.
Of course, we are perfectly justified in demanding of
the Immaterialist or Animist that he should bear in mind
all that his position involves. Upon him lies the burden
of proving the existence of anything but matter; and
failing to do this, how can he fairly blame those who
reiterate the old axiom, That the same relation or consid-
eration (ratio) exists between the non-appearing and the
non-existing? I know that the Materialist is often
stigmatized as crude and immodest, but the really immod-
est man is he who, like the cobbler, goes ultra crcpi-
dam, and endeavors to build up a reputation for wisdom
on the unverifiable fictions of his own imagination. All
such visionaries may be clever enough to be mystics,
but to the eye of sober reason they are less enlightened
than the simple matter-of-fact savage must have been
before the medicine-men — the visionaries — of his tribe
began to "see God in clouds and hear him in the wind."
And this, I take it, is the position of the native Austral-
ians, since I have it on the authority of Mr. Gideon Lang
that these simple, unimaginative beings, after the Chris-
tian missionaries have been instructing them on the soul-
doctrine, generally retire to ridicule the notion of seeing
without eyes, moving without limbs, and living without
the totality of the other organs.
The irrational hypothesis of a vital principle under-
lies Christianity, and therefore its removal is the first
necessity of all who would care to preserve nil that is
good in the teachings of Jesus and his disciples. Unques-
tionably, from my own standpoint, he who insisted
that "the kingdom of God is within us" — and if Prota-
goras had sought to found a religion he could have
uttered no more all-embracing a truth than this — deserves
to be regarded and loved as one of earth's greatest ethi-
cal teachers, since his lofty altruism was directed toward
the realization of that "kingdom" among men. With
respect to the " man of Nazareth," however, it is not at
all difficult for us to rationalize the religion he inculcated,
and at the same time to account for the exaggerated
claims he advanced in the direction of sonship to and
equality with God. For the present, it is enough for
us to notice that neither in the Old nor in the New Tes-
tament can we find the philosophic doctrine of the
immortality of the soul propounded. Instead of this, we
find a much more coarse, and, as science assures us, a
really absurd doctrine — a belief not even as lofty as that
of the Fetichist, who credits his fetich with a certain
immaterial principle — of the actual resurrection of the
bod) that died and decayed. In this respect the New
Testament is precisely on a level with the Old, as any
one will recognize who compares the narrative of the
resurrection of Jesus with his stigmata of nail-marks,
etc., and its accompaniment — ghastly, were it not ridicu-
lous— of the buried "saints" arising from their graves
and appearing unto many, with the older story of the
dead Moabite reviving and standing on his feet when
his body had been deposited upon the bones of Elisha.
There is no " lofty " philosophy in this — nothing indeed
but a lower form of the vulgar concrete Roman super-
stition of the prodigies which preceded the death of
Julius Caesar, when
" ghosts did shriek and squeal about the streets."
Modern Christianity is something very different from
that of its founder and his apostles, being indeed — as
Draper clearly shows — mainly Alexandrian neo-Pla-
tonism, metamorphosed and blundered by nescient emo-
tionalists.
THE SHAKESPEARE-BACON CONTROVERSY.
BY B. w. BALL.
Milton, the supreme poet of the next literary age,
which followed that of Shakespeare, was ten years old
at the time of his death. Thus he had been a conscious
or unconscious contemporary of Shakespeare in his boy-
hood, and later along a spectator of his dramas.
"Then to the well-trod stage anon.
If Jonson's learned sock be on,
Or sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child
Warbles his native uoodnotes wild."
When he was twentv-four years old, Milton voiced
his admiration of the Swan of Avon in some fine com-
memorative lines, which show him to have been as much
a votarist of his genius as has been any Shakespeare-ola-
trist of later times, and Milton was, in point of place and
time, in a condition to know the exact truth about
Shakespeare — to-wit: That he was the matchless author
of the matchless works which will be forever current
under his name.
"Dear son of memory, great heir of France,
* * * * *
Thou, in our wonder and astonishment.
Hast built thyself a life-long monument.
lor whilst to the shame of slow-endeavoring art
Thy easv numbers flow, and that each heart
Hath, from the leaves of thy unvalued book,
Those Delphic lines with deep impression took,
Then thou, our fancy of itself bereaving,
Dost make us marble with too much conceiving."
5S6
THE OPEN COURT.
Then again, Ben Jonson, who was ten years Shake-
speare's junior, and his fellow dramatist, and frequent
boon companion at that famous haunt of contemporary
wits and poets, the Mermaid Tavern, attests the un-
equalled facility and fluency of Shakespeare's genius. "I
loved the man," says Jonson, "and do honor his memory
on this side idolatry as much as any. He was indeed
honest, and of an open and free nature; had an excellent
phantasy, brave notions, and gentle expressions, wherein
he flowed with that facility that sometimes it was neces-
sarv he should be stopped. Sitfflaminandus era/, as
Augustus said to Haterius. "Jonson had felt Shake-
speare's power face to face with him in many a sympo-
siac, amicable encounter of wits on many a controverted
theme in the freedom of unrestrained social intercourse at
the Mermaid Tavern, aforesaid." Fuller says that "many
were the wit-combats betwixt Shakespeare and Ben Jon-
son; which two I behold like a Spanish great galleon and
an English man-of-war; Master Jonson, like the former,
built far higher in learning, solid but slow in perform-
ance, while the English man-of-war, lesser in bulk
but lighter in sailing, could turn with all tides, tack
about and take advantage of all winds by the quick-
ness of his wit and invention." Doubtless, when Shake-
speare was fairly roused by his "dogmatic, aggressive
controversial, blustering and rude antagonist" (Jonson
had been a bricklayer and soldier in the Low Countries,
and had killed his man in a duel), Jonson, finding him-
self terribly overmatched in brain-power and power of
expression, would try to stop his opponent by sheer bel-
lowing. But jealous, conceited, and conscious though he
must have been of his own inferiority to his great friend
and contemporary, Jonson, in his cool moments, had the
nobleness deliberately to declare his almost 'idolatry of
Shakespeare's genius; and Jonson, whatever he might
have been as a dramatist, was certainly a lyric poet of
genius, and therefore fully qualified to appreciate genius
in another.
Thus we have contemporary and adequate testi-
mony as to Shakespeare's ability to produce the dramas
which are ascribed to his authorship. Further, Jonson was
a friend of Bacon, and yet he did not leave the least inti-
mation that he suspected him of having been the author
of his friend Shakespeare's dramatic works.
There is really no call for a serious refutation of the
cranky Delia Bacon-Holmes-Ignatius Donnelly theory.
It is a pure assumption, without anything to rest upon,
except the seeming improbability of a youth born and
bred in an English country village of the feudal period
suddenly blossoming into the unparalleled world-poet
whom we know. The transcendent brain of Shakespeare
and the miracle of his marvelous literary achievements
are easily accounted for. Given the mechanical brains of
a Watt, Fulton and Stevenson combined, devising and
inventing under the most adverse circumstances, and you
have for outcome the miracle of current steam-travel by
land and sea. So the mind of Shakespeare, in full activ-
ity for two decades, could easily produce his works in
spite of the narrow circumstances and unpropitious
environment of his youth. Once fairly admitted to the
great world and centre of the civilization of his country,
that mind would equip itself for its task with inconceiv-
able rapidity, laying all the domain of knowledge of his
age under contribution. For in him, as his dramas
everywdiere make manifest, there was an almost supra-
mortal vigor of conception and expression, both of which
where inborn in the man, and could not have been
acquired by any amount of study or "slow-endeavoring
art."
Shelley, in his " Defence of Poetry," insists, that
Bacon was a poet, and instances his " Essav on Death,"
"Filum Labyrinthi," in proof of his assertion. He says,
"Bacon's language has a sweet and majestic rhythm,
which satisfies the sense, no less than the almost super-
human wisdom of his philosophy satisfies the intellect."
But in the same essay Shelley also ranks the historian Lew
as a poet; and Plato, and others not commonly regarded
as poets, he puts in the same category. Undoubtedly
Bacon, like Plato, was an idealist respiring the air of the
realm of ideal truth and beauty, and Levy, in the milky
richness of his narrative, abounds in poetic passages; but
they were not poets in the sense in which Homer,
Sophokles, Virgil, Shakespeare and Milton are. If
we compare Bacon's "Essav on Death" with Hamlet's
soliloquy on the same subject,.we shall see the difference
between a philosophic thinker and a great poet who
could designate the hereafter as
" The undiscovered country from whose bourne
No traveller returns,"
in contrast with "the bright and breathing world" of
conscious existence and sensible realities, which we
know.
The utterances of Shakespeare are not to be mis-
taken. They have a ring and significance of their own,
which made them at once proverbial and of universal cur-
rency. They seem to be voices of the Nature of Things,
of which the mind of .Shakespeare was the interpreter.
If we were to liken Bacon to any great man of antiquitv
it would be to Cicero. Cicero was, like Bacon, a great
philosophic essayist, and his miscellanies are as readable
to-day as are Bacon's. He also, like Bacon, figured con-
spicuously in the sphere of public life of politics and
statesmanship. Furthermore, unlike Bacon, he at-
tempted to write in verse. There was a great poet,
who was a contemporary of Cicero, of whom there is a
more meagre tradition than there is of Shakespeare.
Why not attribute the great poem of Lucretius, "Con-
cerning the Nature of Things," to Cicero? Because, with
all his learning, rhetoric, eloquence, philosophic knowl-
edge, and literary ability as a prose-writer, Cicero, could
THE OPEN COURT.
5*7
no more have written the above poem, with its frequent
glow of genuine poetic inspiration, than Bacon could
have written " Lear" or " Hamlet." There was Bacon,
the author of '-The Philosophy of Fruit," and the essay-
ist pregnant with thought, and then there was the
sordid, earthly, unprincipled Bacon —
"The greatest, wisest, meanest of mankind" —
who, in the language of Macaulay, "was ready to stoop
to everything, and to endure every thing,to acquire wealth,
precedence, titles, patronage, the mace, the seals, the
coronet, large houses, fair gardens, rich manors, massy
services of plate, gay hangings."
Shakespeare was by no means immaculate, but his
sins were venial compared with the crimes of Bacon.
One thing Shakespeare demonstrated: that the loftiest
genius is consistent with prudence. For he was prudent,
poet though he was, and retired on a compentency, and
was able to entertain his old poetic comrades hospitably
at his residence in Stratford-on-Avon; indeed it is said
that "the fever of which he died at the age of fifty-two,
was contracted in consequence of too free hospitalities
exercised in honor of his fellow-poets, Ben [orison and
Drayton (author of the Polyolbion), during a visit
which they paid him at his house in Stratford "; so says
an admirable review-article on Ben Jonsun, which
appeared more than thirty years agt>.
If Bacon was unique in his way, much more so was
Shakespeare. He was as exceptional a personality in the
domain of thought and imagination, as was Julius Cassar
in that of action. He cannot be confounded with any
other historic character, and no one but himself could
have produced his works.
ARE WE PRODUCTS OF MIND ?
BV EDMUND MONTGOMERY, Mil.
Part V.
ORGANIC LIFE DEVELOPS BEYOND CONSCIOUSNESS.
We have found that neither mental volition nor any
other mental state can possibly be the builder of our bod-
ily frame or the director of its purposive movements.
Let us recapitulate:
Mind or consciousness cannot control matter because
outside the medium of individual consciousness there does
not exist anything resembling the matter and motion we
are so intimately acquainted with. The tridimensional,
hard, colored, sounding, scented, heated matter — fancied
by Professor Cope and others, to subsist outside conscious-
ness and believed by them to be directed and organized
by such consciousness — is, indeed, through and through, a
fictitious entity, consisting of nothing but a set of our
own percepts illusively projected into non-mental exis-
tence. 1 he surmised controlling process, if here at all
occurring, would have to take place in regions wholly
ideal, where a peculiar complex of conscious states called
will, must then be imagined as exerting a controlling
influence over the peculiar complex of conscious percepts,
called matter and motion. If such were the case, it
would be simply one phase of our consciousness controll-
ing another phase, but never in this world could so
visionary and ephemeral a performance give rise to the
permanent bodily organization we undeniably possess.
The illusion of mentally impelled voluntary move-
ment arises from our having merely an inner or ideal
consciousness of the central process; while, on the con-
trary, its peripheral outcome, the actual movement, is
perceived as physical, sense-stimulating occurrence. We
become only ideally aware of the predetermining moment
of the performance, but actually witness with our very
eyes the final bodily execution. We are thus naturally
under the impression as if a free-floating conscious state
of our's had originated the movement which is seen to
follow it. And the contrast between these two modes of
apprehension of the two parts of one and the same con-
tinuous organic process becomes all the more striking
when we consider that the motor outcome, i. e., the
movement of features and limbs, can be perceived bv any
number of observers, while the ideal forecast is realized
solely by the subject whose organism is thus function-
ing. But, on the other hand, outside observers are
in a position to become awaie, that the ideal forecast
is dependent on the same organic function which in the
brain is initiating also the motor outcome; while the
subject in whom such organic function is taking place
remains wholly unconscious of the same.
Mind or consciousness cannot control bodily organiz-
ation for the further reason, that all the modes of mind
or consciousness we are acquainted with, volitional as well
as receptive, are found to be themselves strictly dependent
on bodily organization; higher modes being dependent
on higher organization. Consequentlv we have no right
to assume any kind of mind or consciousness, much less
a highest kind of mind or consciousness, to be subsisting
independently of all organization, and to be moreover
originating the very matrix from which in real experi-
ence all mind or consciousness is obviously emanating.
We may be quite certain, then, that the percepts,
through which we consciously realize the existence,
characteristics and activities of the perceptible organism,
do not, in reality, constitute the same. But we may be
no less certain that the organism has a veritable non-
mental being of its own. We may, with confidence and
legitimately, infer that it subsists in all reality, outside our
consciousness, as a most specifically endowed and peculi-
arly functioning existent.
Still it cannot be denied that this unhesitating
conviction of the extra-conscious existence of things is
only an intuitive inference based on our compelled or
stimulated percepts, and therefore not so immediately
certain as the existence of these percepts themselves.
Whatever reality is having its being beyond the mental
588
THE OPEN COURT.
states immediately -present in our individual consciousness
has to be thus inferentially constructed. But though it
is only through immediate states of our consciousness that
we can realize it, we are convinced that it does not, itself,
consist of such mere casual and ceaselessly changing
mental modes as make up our conscious realization of it.
From this inferential mode of realizing the existence of
extra-conscious things it follows that we cannot possibly
avoid calling in some "theory of cognition," in order to
explain the relation actually obtaining between their non-
mental nature and our own ever-lapsing, ever- reconsti-
tuted consciousness of them. And it is clear that the
relation of our organism and its vital activity, to the mere
conscious representation we mentally frame of it, requires
for its explanation the aid of a theory of cognition, just
as essentially as the relation obtaining between any othei
extra-conscious existent and its conscious realization.
No school of philosophy can escape such an appeal
to a reality beyond individual consciousness. Tran-
scendental Idealism — the philosophy taught at present in
most of our universities — assumes, for instance, as its
fundamental doctrine, that the reality which we recognize
in an inadequate manner through individual conscious-
ness is actually existing in full perfection as content of
an universal consciousness. In keeping with this view
our body and its vital functions, which are quite as much
as other objective existents subsisting beyond our per-
ception of them, would be likewise forming part of this
universal consciousness; while our mental states are cer-
tainly forming part of our own individual consciousness
Our body would exist in the Supreme Being; our
consciousness in ourselves. This is one of the many
absurdities to which Transcendental Idealism necessarily
leads.
Professor Cope tries to escape the appeal to a theory
of cognition by postulating at once the objective exis-
tence of mind and of matter. This is an easy and popular
manner of accounting not only for the stuff of which
things consist, but also for the presence of that marvellous
inner awareness known to us only as our own individual
consciousness, and analogically inferred to be present
also in beings like ourselves. We have, however, suffic-
iently seen that the existence of mind is subjectively
realized through immediate introspection; while the ex-
istence of non-mental objects, revealed to us as material
in perceptual observation, is inferred only. Professor
Cope's realistic assertion implies, then, likewise the
assumption of a reality beyond individual consciousness,
which reality he chooses to call " matter." But allowing
this unconscious neglect of the "problem of cognition"
to pass for the present, his fundamental proposition
framed to operate regardless of it, leads at once to the
land of airy nothings. He makes his "conscious
energy" change the motion of the very matter of which
it is said to be a property; for he believes the specific
molecular commotion which constitutes the initial
stimulus to voluntary movements, to be directed by
consciousness. This, indeed, is the gist of his whole
theory. According to it, progressive evolution is origin-
ated in this manner only, though afterwards it is " autom-
atically" or unconsciously maintained. Now, such mat-
ter-coeicing process, whereby the functioning material
is forced by consciousness to move contrary to mechan-
ical laws, could evidently take place only where
consciousness itself is present; namely in the same matter
of which it is believed to be a property. And as the
matter of our present physical science is only a passive
vehicle of motion, and consciousness is not held by
Professor Cope to be acting directly on such passive
matter, but indirectly by being a property of its
energy or motion, we have to fancy an unsub-
stantial something called consciousness seizing
hold of that unsubstantial something called motion,
and " saturating it with intelligence " by design-
edly deflecting it from its mechanically prescribed
direction. Spontaneously-acting mind would be here
at strife with abstract mechanical motion ; — a phantasmal
set of evanescent phenomena influencing one another
regardless of the matrix in which they inhere, and which
from moment to moment is sustaining their existence
with all its peuliarities. Into so abstruse a region of
chimerical doings one finds one's-self landed by slighting
the "problem of cognition."
Professor Cope frankly confesses that in his fund-
amental "thesis is involved the realistic doctrine, that mind
is a property of some kind of matter, as odor and color
are properties of the rose." This little nutshell of a
sentence contains so snugly and conspicuously condensed
his main batch of philosophical misconceptions, that its
candid examination may perhaps, after all, convert our
keen and clear-sighted scientist, who is eager not only
for strictly physical, but also for philosophical insight.
And the same examination may help us also to catch
some further glimpses of the true relation of consciousness
to so-called voluntary movements.
However much Professor Cope may despise the
" problem of cognition," even as a physiologist he can-
not well ignore the fact that " odor and color " are, as
such, sensations of the observer; namely, definite kinds
of conscious states aroused in him through stimulation of
his organs of smell and sight by something which he
calls a rose, and believes to be subsisting as a non-mental
existent independently of his perception of it. Being
undoubtedly aware of this interpretation of sense-
perception, now almost universally accepted by scientists,
his asserted " realism " can consist only in the assumption
that "odor and color" exist not merely as sensations in
the observer, but also as " properties of the rose"; and
in the further assumption that these two sets of existents,
the mental states in the observer and the properties in
THE OPEN COURT.
589
the observed object, are of an identical nature. For, how
otherwise could odors and colors, which we certainly
experience as as our individual sensations, he also, as
such, properties of the external object? It is quite evident
that, if the properties of external objects are identical
in kind with our mental states, then external objects
must be constituted in a like manner; which means that
thej- must be made of the same stuff as our mental states.
From this it inevitably follows that consciousness and
the external existents, or mind and being, must, after
all, be identical. And Professor Cope, despite all
protestations to the contrary, turns out — by force of this
one realistic supposition alone — to be an outright
Idealist.
Thus ominous is the neglect of the " problem of
cognition." Hut however radically in error regarding
this point, it is another misconception that most concerns
us in our discussion about the relation of mind to organ-
ization. This misconception is contained in the assertion
that " mind is the property of some kind of matter"
in the same manner "as odor and color are properties of
the rose."
We have already clearly recognized that we call
physical phenomena such phenomena as are perceptible
to us, and odors and colors being perceived through sense-
stimulation belong to this perceptible order. It is
sensible experience and observation which manifest
them to us. Sensible experience and observation
manifest, in the same way, the entire organism and all its
ph vsiological properties, but the mind of an organism
is not thus perceptible; it does not become manifest to us
by being sensibly realized as odors and colors are.
Therefore it is not — as Professor Cope maintains — "the
property of some kind of matter as odor and color are
properties of the rose."
The distinction here brought out between the percept-
ible and the imperceptible order is, indeed, the most
radical of all distinctions in nature. As soon as its import
will have become fully realized, spiritualistic philosophies,
now holding sway in high places, will dissolve like idle
dreams.
When we desire to know something about mind, not
only indirectly through physical signs, but through direct
experience, we have to assume the introspective attitude.
We can learn nothing concerning its real nature through
sensible observation. We cannot touch, see, hear, taste
or smell a feeling, sensation, percept or thought. To
know what these are we have to question our inner
experience, and no other observers can possibly corrob-
orate this same inner experience of our's in the way they
are able to corroborate some physical experience which
is equally perceptible to them all; they cannot touch,
see, hear, taste or smell any mental state of our's, as
they can see the color and smell the odor of a rose.
Mental or conscious states are exclusively an inner
awareness ot the indh idual being who is experiencing
them and are wholly imperceptible to any other being.
They have no power of their own to affect the sensibility
of an observer, much less to produce any kind ot effect
in senseless existents.
This plain consideration is fatal to all speculations,
which Attribute efficient power to anything of the
nature of mind. Mental states are revealing glimpses,
ami not themselves creative efficiencies.
A dense cloud is mounting, clear-cut and leaden,
above the horizon into the serene blue sky ; but ever and
anon, its cold grey mass seems illuminated through and
through by sudden flashes of lightning; and then the
world around reverberates the thunder of its voice.
Here, surely, we have plenty of physical forces at plaj ;
condensation, cohesion, elect! icity, light, mechanical
concussion; all affecting our sensibility; all scientifically
conceived as modes of matter and motion. Rut in all
this physical world there is nothing in the remotest
degree akin to mind. It is here, as it would be with the
brain, if its intense molecular commotion happened to be
unaccompanied by consciousness. Only in case the
cloud itself were experiencing conscious states corres-
ponding to its physical activity, would there be some-
thing present akin to mind or consciousness; and such
consciousness would obviously have no power whatever
of affecting either the sensibility of an observer, or the
nature of any other existent. It would be only a force-
less inner awareness; though at the same time the light-
ning might cleave the oaks and the thunder strike terror
in the heart of men and beasts.
To harmonize these two essentially different orders:
the objective physical or perceptible and the subjective,
mental or imperceptible, every school of philosophy,
even that of pure solipsism, has — as already stated — to
venture some kind of realistic assumption, to postulate
some kind of reality beyond the immediately experienced
conscious states.
Now, the realistic assumption, which the philosophy
of organization here makes, is indeed the simplest pos-
sible, and is in full agreement with given facts. It sup-
poses that there subsist in nature non- mental existents
possessing the power of specifically affecting our individ-
ual sensibility, and of manifesting their special character-
istics by means of the different conscious states they
arouse in us. And it supposes further, that certain
definite kinds of non-mental existents, which we perceive
as animal organism — besides being in possession of the
general power of making their specific physical proper-
ties known by arousing definite perceptions in us- have
moreover, peculiar organs, perceptible to an observer as
nerve-centres, whose functional activity, while perceived
by the observer as nothing but molecular motion, is simul-
taneously producing the conscious states experienced by
the observed organism.
59°
THE OPKN COURT.
In further elucidation of this position, into which I
find myself forced by using; " observed phenomena as
foundation materials," I will venture a few more remarks.
These will, I hope, disclose the super-conscious origin and
transcendent wealth of vital organization; — treasures of
content and marvels of efficiency most inadequately
revealed to objective observation as nothing' but art
unintelligible commotion of extended particles.
Mr. Ivan Panin commenced a course of lectures
in Boston, on November 16th, on Russian litera-
ture. The lecturer admitted the work of his com-
patriots lacks originality, especially in its forms, which
have been borrowed from Western nations. Among its
peculiar advantages are its intensity, as strongly marked
now, when Russia produces scarcely anything but
novels, as in the exclusively lyrical period from 1S00 to
1 83=5, and its temperance, or union of moderation with
modesty. These traits were shown by reading Tur-
genef's account of the suicide in Back Woods, and
Tolstoi's description of the storm in Childhood, Boy-
hood, and Youth, and were ascribed in great part to the
fact, that Russian authors do not write for money, but
allow themselves ample leisure to produce masterpieces.
Another of their excellences is earnestness, a quality in
which American literature is likely to improve greatly,
Mr. Panin thinks, inconsequence of the increasing circu-
lation in this country of Russian novels. Pushkin and
Gogol are next to be taken up, and the subjects for
December will be Turgenef (on the 7th), Tolstoi, the
writer (the 14th), and Tolstoi, the preacher (the 21st).
TWO PREACHERS.
UV MRS. SARA A. UNDERWOOD.
Two preachers touched my soul one night;
Both woke within me earnest thought, —
One charmed by Fancy's airy flight;
One bitter anguish wrought.
The first, 'neath frescoed fretted roof,
With flowers making sweet the air,
On ornate dais stood aloof,
An uttered praiseful prayer;
He thanked his God, in mankind's name,
For light, for life, for home, and friends,
For all that through our sensuous frame
A thrill of gladness sends;
And then he spoke, in choicest phrase,
Of fruitful earth and glorious heaven,
Of love that guardeth all our ways,
Of pardon freely given.
And listening in a cushioned pew,
Wrapped in a dreamful, hazy mist,
On music, lights, and warmth, I grew
A sudden optimist.
Wealth, beauty, grace, and culture rare,
Proud faces fashioned fair by fate,
Filled up the pews — no hint was there
Of misery, want, or hate;
The world was fair — and God did reign!
So ran my musings glad and sweet,
As at the organ's grand refrain
We surged into the street.
Into the street! 'Twas there I found
The preacher who spoke words of woe;
The stars shone fierce above — around
All things were draped in snow!
And bitter was the north wind's rage,
Yet thin-clad forms went hurrying on —
Forms bent with toil, disease, and age,
From whom all jov seemed gone;
And baby voices begged for bread,
And voices rude made night more drear
With oaths enforcing words of dread;
I wondered — was God near?
And maddened men went reeling by
To homes where wives, with inward moan,
Hushed childhood's quick, impatient cry
And hunger's fretful tone;
And by the street-lamp's flickering glare
I glimpses caught of faces bold —
Girl-faces, whose defiant stare
Their dismal story told.
From sights and sounds like these — not creeds-
Did this strange preacher preach to me;
His sermon was on human needs;
His name — Humanity.
And this the moral that he drew:
That man for men, in larger sense,
Become — what Heaven fails to do —
A loving Providence.
— The Index.
"Thought refuses to be stationary, institutions
refuse to change and war is the consequence." — E. L.
} on mans.
" To be fossilized is to be stagnant, unprogressive,
dead. It is only liquid currents of thought that move
men and the world." — Wendell Phillips.
" In proportion as nations get more corrupt, more
disgrace will attach to poverty and more respect to
wealth." — Colton.
" Let us never forget that the present century has just
as good a right to its forms of thought as former centu-
ries had to theirs."- Professor Tyndall.
"Plate sin with gold, and the strong lance of Justice hurtless
breaks
Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw doth pierce it." — Shakespeare.
THE OPKN COURT.
59 l
The Open Court.
A Fortnightly Journal.
Published every other Thursday at 169 to 175 La Salle Street iNixor
Building', corner Monroe Street, by
THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY
B. !•". UNDERWOOD,
Editor and Manager.
SARA A. UNDERWOOD,
Associate Editor.
The leading object of The Open Court is to continue
the work of The Index, that is, to establish religion on the
basis of Science and in connection therewith it will present the
Monistic philosophy. The founder ci this journal believes this
will furnish to others what it has to him, a religion which
embraces all that is true and good in the religion that was taught
in childhood to them and him.
Editorially, Monism and Agnosticism, so variously defined,
will be treated not as antagonistic systems, but as positive and
negative aspects of the one and only rational scientific philosophy,
which, the editors hold, includes elements of truth common to
all religions, without implying either the validity of theological
assumption, or any limitations of possible knowledge, except such
as the conditions of human thought impose.
The Open Court, while advocating morals and rational
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tute for unquestioning credulity intelligent inquiry, for blind faith
rational religious views, for unreasoning bigotry a liberal spirit,
tor sectarianism a broad and generous huinanitarianism. With
this end in view, this journal will submit all opinion to the crucial
test of reason, encouraging the independent discussion by able
thinkers of the great moral, religious, social and philosophical
problems which are engaging the attention of thoughtful minds
and upon the solution of which depend largely the highest inter-
ests of mankind
While Contributors are expected to express freely their own
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All communications intended for and all business letters
relating to The Open Court should be addressed to B. F
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should be made payable checks, postal orders and express orders.
THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 24, 1887.
THE EDITORS' FAREWELL TO THE READERS OF
THE OPEN COURT.
When the editors of The Open Court came West,
early in the present year, to establish and conduct
this journal, the}' entered upon a work which they
then hoped would continue many years. Some
months previously, B. F. Underwood had notified the
trustees of The Index, of which he had been manager
and co-editor five years, of his intention to resign
that position at the end of the year to take charge
of the new journalistic enterprise. Subsequently the
trustees voted to discontinue The Index, and among
the considerations which led to the decision was the
belief that the new paper, under the management
announced, would " continue the work of The Index,"
and be not an unworthy successor of that paper.
Mr. Hegeler had long entertained the thought,
and had often mentioned to B. F, Underwood, his
purpose of founding a liberal journal in the West, and
had repeatedly expressed the desire that he should
have charge of it. No reasons were seen why such
a journal rightly managed, should fail of success, and
it was hoped that Tin-: Open Court would not only
soon be recognized as a journal of high character and
earnest purpose, but that it would in a few years be
put upon a strong financial basis.
Now, when the work is but just begun, only a
few months from the date of the first number, the
editors have to announce that this work, so far as
their connection with the paper is concerned, is at
an end. This is the last number of The Open Court
that will be issued under the present business and
editorial management.
A detailed statement of the facts and circumstances
which have rendered this announcement necessary,
cannot and need not here be made. It is sufficient,
perhaps, to say that the immediate cause of the
editors' resignation is Mr. Hegeler's expressed desire
and purpose to make a place on The Open Court for
Dr. Paul Carus, who never had, it should here lie-
said, any editorial connection with the paper, who
newer wrote a line for it except as a contributor and
as Mr. Hegeler's secretary, and who was unknown
to Mr. Hegeler when his contract with the editors
was made. To the request that Dr. Carus be accepted
as an associate editor, the present editors, for good
and sufficient reasons, have unhesitatingly refused to
accede, and although always willing to make conces-
sions when required in the interests of the paper, a
point is now reached where they feel compelled by
self-respect to sever all relations with this journal
rather than yield to Mr. I legeler's latest requirement.
At the same time the editors acquit the proprietor
of the paper of an)- intentional injustice in this
matter, and appreciate his high purpose in founding
and sustaining The Open Court. May its future
fulfil his highest expectations.
It is with deep regret that the editors now
abruptly bid farewell to the contributors, to whom the
paper is indebted for almost all that has made it
valuable, and the readers of The. Open Court, among
whom they count man;- personal friends, and many
who, though known only as subscribers to The Index
and Open Court, have come to seem, from years of
familiarity with their names on the subscription list
592
THE OPEN COURT,
of both papers, like old friends, as indeed they are.
To these the editors have for years addressed them-
selves, conscious of a kindly, sympathetic, and
indulgent hearing-, and from them they now part with
sad reluctance, and with regret from the new group
of friendly rentiers won through the columns of this
paper and with whom a longer acquaintance was
expected.
ANNUAL CONVENTION OF THE UNION OF THE
ETHICAL CULTURE SOCIETIES.
The first annual convention of the union of the
Societies for Ethical Culture was held in Chicago on
the iSth, 19th and 20th. Delegates from the New York,
Philadelphia, Chicago and St. Louis Ethical Societies
were present, and among them sat a representative
of the London Ethical Society, and others not
members of the Union, specially invited because
of their interest in the movement. Among those
who took a prominent part in the proceedings were
Prof. Felix Adler, Dr. Stanton Cort, and Alfred
Jaretzki, of New York, W. M. Salter, Judge Henry
Booth, W. R. Manierre, Otis B. Favor, H. De Rood,
Dr. N. D. Morey, and Joseph Errant, of Chicago;
S. B. Weston, Dr. Emily White, Dr. C. N. Pierce and
Miss Charlotte Porter, of Philadelphia; W. L. Shel-
don and Dr. Charles Stevens, of St. Louis; Mrs.
McCullom, London, Eng.; and Mr. Macomber, of
Toledo.
1 he special objects of this Union are to strengthen
the bond of fellowship among the Societies for Ethi-
cal Culture and to secure the co-operation of those
outside who are in sympathy with the movement, to
create a fund for the establishment of an institution
in which philosophy and religion shall be expounded
from the different standpoints with perfect freedom,
and "from which incidentally shall go forth the ethi-
cal teachers of the future"; to publish and spread
suitable literature, and to further such objects as may
commend themselves from time to time to the Socie-
ties.
The report of the committee on the extension of
the Ethical Culture movement, read by Prof. Adler
and adopted by the Union, recommended that local
committees be appointed by the Executive Com-
mittee in communities in which no Societies exist,
but where there arc persons desirous of being con-
nected with the Union, and that these local com-
mittees be empowered to enrol applicants of good
character as mcmbe'rs-at-large. Whenever a group
of twenty persons shall exist in any one locality
duly enrolled, they shall have the right to send a
delegate to the annual conventions, as shall also
scattered -roups of less than twenty in different
localities, meeting at some central point, when the
aggregate of their numbers shall be twenty or over.
The desire is to connect with the work groups in
different parts of the country, who are in accord with
the Societies and are now debarred from forming new
societies by the smallness of their numbers. Such
groups, composed of men and women of superior
intelligence and character, now exist in Baltimore,
Washington, Toledo, Cincinnati, San Francis:o and
many other places. The contributions of members-
at-large, the report says, shall be voluntary so far as
the amount is concerned, one-third of the contribu-
tions to go to the Union and two-thirds for a college
fund. The report recommends that steps be taken
to establish such a college as soon as an annual in-
come of $6,000 is raised from subscriptions. The
report of the committee on publication, which was
also adopted, recommends a publication to be issued
quarterly, and to contain one or more lectures, reports
of the work being done by the Societies, items of
interest to the members, etc.
At the last session of the convention, held Sun-
da)' morning, earnest and eloquent addresses were
given before a large audience by Professor Adler, Mr.
Salter, Dr. Emily White, Mrs. McCullom, of Lon-
don, and others. The convention, was one of great
importance to the movement in the interests of which
it was called, and the measures and methods agreed
upon can hardly fail to augment its strength and
extend its influence and usefulness.
THE SHARKY POLITICIAN.
Monstrosities are beings in states of arrested develop-
ment, as the idiot is the monkey semblance of man. One
may have every external appearance of being human, and
yet may be mentally arrested in the eel-like, shark-like,
or ape-like stage. We experience involuntary repug-
nance of the slippery sneak, and feel a heart-glow in the
presence of the " god-like," frank, hearty chap who
despises deceitfulness.
In this our age and country there survives a remnant
of the shark ancestry, in the guise of men who are as cer-
tainly doomed to extinction as the age and country are
advancing to understand and destroy them. The shark
figures in churches and socially as the sleek, watchful,
wilv, hypocrite, loud in cant and deep in schemes.
Wealth and beauty are his prey. As a physician, he is
a great stickler for medical ethics, while managing
secretly to violate its spirit; as a lawyer he bribes juries,
corrupts judges, suborns perjurers; but nowhere is he so
much at home as in practical politics. He exists in this
field in many tvpes. He may be vulgar or polite, igno-
rant or educated. He may brawl, gamble, steal, and be
guilt}' of grades of crime, from " eating with his knife" to
murder, or be Chesterfleldian, and have done nothing
THE OPEN COURT.
593
worse than foreclosing' a mortgage upon a widow's
home. The child and the multitude judge by externals;
so the sleek air and garb of respectability tell more upon
the Carlylean populace than straightforwardness and the
indifference to appearances of the one who is conscious
of his rectitude.
In the early days of Christianity, when it was worth
a man's life to avow his convictions, the sycophant was
the adviser of those who hunted these religionists down.
When the faith grew in power, the Christian hypocrite
developed, and he has been the loudest in his denuncia-
tions of atheists and agnostics. With the wane of
churchly power it is sad to think that this creature will
crop out in all kinds of societies, and retard progress by
expounding principles of which he has but faint concep-
tion, and for which he cares less. But his best oppor-
tunity is in politics, his environment proper, where his
traits find fullest scope for development. Scientific pur-
suits tend to repress sharkiness, because in the study of
nature's laws, even superficially, there must be some
devotion to truth, but in political life the lie serves
often the shark's purpose better than the truth. The
subterfuges, combinations, treacheries of political life are
beyond computation or the comprehension of the
uninitiated. The ramifying degradation, insecurity, and
pollution are likewise incredible. With " boodlerism " as
the aim the result of its success is the prostitution of all
public institutions, education and charities. The sick
and insane are robbed, frozen, starved and murdered;
the schools are controlled by ignorance, while tax col-
lections are lavished upon vice.
If there is a crime-class whose operations are more
hurtful than another, it is the element that too often con-
trols elections and municipal offices.
One of the most transparent and yet successful of the
politician's methods is afforded by the pretext. If he have
a hated rival to remove, or a vengeance to wreak, our
shark bides his time, and accomplishes his end effect-
ually by a show of magnanimity for personal grievances,
but righteous indignation for some trivial or trumped-up
dereliction.
The "shark " cannot experience self-respect; he can-
not know the calm of self-approbation. Given up to
lying and schemes, his mental apparatus must degener-
ate, and his progeny will inevitably undergo retrograde
development. Truth only is the foundation for brain
building, and habitual lying must work destruction to
mentality. •
With the beginning of the printers' strike in this
city on November i, every printer who had been
working on this paper left. Even the proof-reader
was seen no more. The firm that prints The Open
Court experienced great difficulty of course in filling
the places of the strikers, a fact which is here stated
only in explanation of the mistakes in the last issue,
most of which were made after the revised proofs
had left our hands. Although it has been impossible
to get proofs of contributions printed this week to
the writers in time for their revision, it is believed
that the)- will not have reason to find fault with the
only proof-reading of which circumstances have
admitted. Our printers assure us that there will be
no more delay or trouble, so far as The Open Couri
is concerned, from the strike.
A number of readers having made inquiries in regard
to Dr. Clevenger, whose series of articles on " Monistic
Mental Science" (which he claims to be but a rough
sketch of the subject) was concluded in the last number
or The Open Court, a little notice of the author is
proper.
In Afipletoiis' Cyclopedia of American Biography
a column is devoted to the Doctor and his father,
who was a famous American sculptor. Dr. Cleven-
ger confines his practice to the treatment of mental
and nervous diseases, and holds numerous positions
of honor in hospitals and scientific societies. He is
a well known medico-legal expert in his specialty.
Recently he was summoned to a Wisconsin court
and the county medical society turned out in force
to do him honor — physicians of all schools came to the
court-room to hear his testimony — which included lono-
dissertations upon various forms of insanity — and they
publicly declared the Doctor to be a master of his sub-
ject. His writings are very numerous, those of former
years being upon mathematical and astronomical sub-
jects, as he was employed by the Government in survey-
ing and meteorological work. In the U. S. Eneineer
Corps he was thrown much with army surgeons, for
whom he has a high regard, and they induced him to
devote himself to medicine. His philosophical bent led
him to the most difficult branch, and he has consistently
pursued studies that bear upon ailments of the mind and
nerves, through great difficulties and many sacrifices.
While residing at an insane asylum as pathologist, he
found his studies distracted by the appeals to his sympa-
thies the harsh treatment of the inmates occasioned, and
published an appeal to the citizens to take the manage-
ment from the "gamblers and thieves" who controlled
the place. A bullet-shot into his room was about the
only answer he received; but a few years after, "investi-
gations " corroborated the Doctors' exposure. The
work one does for reform is seldom rewarded by ade-
quate results. His contributions to knowledge are
mainly in the jfonrnat of Nervous and Mental Dis-
ease published in New York, and scientific journals
of that class. It is seldom that he attempts popular
essays, and, owing to his refusal to cater to prejudice or
ignorance, he has resisted the allurements of mere popu-
59-1
THK OPEN COURT
larity. His lectures on " Art Anatomy," made several
years ago at the Chicago Art Institute (soon to appear
in book form), were enthusiastically received, for he con-
vinced his audiences of the importance of realizing the
the influence of Darwin and Spencer in Art as well as
in Science.
We had hoped to have for this number some word
from Mr. Hegeler to present with our valedictory ; but
none has been received beyond a request to hand the
manuscripts on hand to Dr. Cams, who " leaves for
Chicago to-day,'' the letter says " to make preparations
for taking charge of the paper." As late as Monday,
this week, we were in uncertainty as to whether our
connection with The Open Court would extend
beyond the present number. We arc not authorized to
make any statement in regard to the future of the paper,
and have no knowledge of Mr. Hegeler's plans. It
will be best from this date to make alll checks, etc., for
The Open Court payable to the order of The Open
Court Publishing Company, to which all letters for
the paper should be addressed. All letters and papers
for B. F. Underwood and Sara A. Underwood should
be sent to their residence, 86 Page street, Chicago.
* # *
In our quotation from Carpenter's Physiology, to
the effect that there is no difference between secre-
tion and excretion, except in the "diverse destina-
tions, of the separated matter," the printer substituted
the word "distinctions" for destinations. Mr. Wake-
man, of the Freethinkers' Magazine, stumbles over
that typographical error and shouts, " There it is in
a nut shell! These 'diverse distinctions' exactly
distinguish alcohol as an excretion! " Mr. Wakeman
is too hysterical to write with scientific accuracy on
this subject.
# # *
Professor Max Muller's lectures on "The
Science of Thought," which appeared in this journal,
will soon be issued by The Open Court Publishing-
Company in a handsome volume, which will contain
also an introduction by the author and an interesting
appendix. The " strike" has delayed this work.
Mrs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton leaves Paris to spend the
winter in England with her daughter, Mrs. Stanton Blatch. Mrs.
Stanton is, as she says, in the sunset of life; but it is a bright and
genial sunset, and her face, with its halo of silver hair and its
kindly smile, tells the story of a life of lofty purpose. As the
" war-horse of woman's rights, she ought to be strong-minded
and disagreeable, but she isn't, and I have met," says a writer in
the Paris Herald, "hundreds of women who did not believe in
woman's suffrage who were not half so gentle and interesting."
We quote the above from the Home Journal, New
York. A letter received bv us from Mrs. Stanton,
since her return to England, says : " The heated dis-
cussions, dividing parties, churches, families, on this
[the Irish] question, remind one of the old days of
slaver}- in our own country. It must end in justice
to Ireland, but men are so blind that they will resist
it as long as they dare, thinking that by some hocus-
pocus measures they can circumvent eternal law,
though all history proves the contrary."
A CLERGYMAN is in jail in Boston for preaching on
" the Common " in violation of an ordinance prohibiting
public speaking on those grounds. He was arrested
only after repeated and persistent violations of the ordi-
nance, and he can have his liberty at any time if he
promises not to commit the offence again. He refuses
to make any such promise, and is sustained in his course
by many brother clergvmen, among whom is Joseph
Cook, who eulogizes the offender as " a man of supreme
consciousness and decisive strength." Yet, these very
men who advise against the enforcement of and defend
the violation of an ordinance which is the will of the
majority of the people of Boston, formulated by their
chosen representatives for the protection of public prop-
erty, and which the Supreme Court of the State has
pronounced constitutional' and valid, are of all men the
most severe in denouncing law-breakers, to the com-
mutation of whose sentences in this world they are op-
posed,and for whom they believe there is no probation "in
the world to come." These public teachers are evidently
more under the influence of prejudice and passion than
of principle.
* * *
The Society for Ethical Culture, of Philadelphia,
has a hundred and eighteen members, of whom fifty-two
joined during the last year. Mr. Weston and bis sup-
porters are doing good work, which should be encour-
aged and strengthened by all earnest liberals of the
Quaker City.
In the notice of "The Combination to Influence
Civil Legislation on Marriage and Divorce," page
540 of The Open Court, No. 19, the name Richard
Brodhead Westbrook, should be substituted for Rich-
ard Brodhead.
* * *
B. F. Underwood is open to applications for
lectures during the coming winter. For subjects,
terms, etc., address him at 86 Page street, Chicago.
Lawrence Barrett says:
Because Shakespeare could not spell, and misspelled even his
own name, amounted to nothing. Nobody could spell in those
days. Raleigh spelled his name Rairley and Rowley. They
went by the sound of words.
THE OPEN COURT.
595
VARIED LIFE IN OTHER WORLDS.
BY RICHARD A. rum TOR.
The theory of evolution, as developed recently in
reference to all the various forms of life peopling this
earth, compels the students of science who accepts it-
compels, we may fairly say, every student of science with
competent power of thinking — to modify his views on
a number of subjects of philosophic inquiry which are
not strictly speaking scientific. Among these the ques-
tion of life in other worlds must be mentioned, though,
strangely enough, few who have dealt with it since the
theory of the biological evolution was first established on
scientific grounds, have taken this fact into account.
The subject of life in other worlds is made at once more
interesting, and better worth considering in its semi-
scientific aspect by our changed position in regard to the
subject of life in this world of ours: the extension of our
ideas in regard to life as distributed throughout space, is
made more reasonable (though it can never be based on
the acqusition of actual tacts) by the extension of our
knowledge in regard to life as distributed throughout
time. It is not so much that we find our former notions
had been incorrect, as that we perceive thev had
been incomplete. We had imagined, even in our most
advanced former ideas about life in other worlds, a uni-
formity such as nature nowhere presents. We had
tacitly assumed that all things were made on one pattern
throughout space, till we were reminded lay studying the
records of our earth's remote past that throughout time
there has been ever present an amazing variety — nay,
that there has been an ever-varying variety.
Let us inquire how the views which men had been led
to form about life in other worlds had developed out of
the one general opinion that there is but one world;
and, having done this, let us see how those views must
be widened and enlarged to correspond with the mar-
vellous widening of our knowledge, and the yet more
marvellous widening of our conceptions which recent
vears have brought about.
In old times, men looked around them on this earth,
recognizing it as to all intents and purposes the universe
itself — the sun, the moon, the moving and the fixed stars
being but fittings and adornments especially constructed
for the benefit of its inhabitants, while other celestial
appearances, as comets, meteors, and so forth, were
special means of communication between the powers
ruling in heaven, and the creatures living in the one sole
world for which all thing had been made.
It was not till the Copernican theory had been
fairly established that men began to conceive the thought
that there may be other worlds than ours. One would
have thought that the moment Copernicus had shown
our sun to be the ruler over a family of orbs, whereof
our earth is but one, the thought would at once have
suggested itself, that as the only one of those orbs we can
examine is an inhabited world, the others probably arc-
so too. But the growth of new ideas in such matters is
slow, and it was not till the lime of Huyghens that the
doctrine was first fairly started which presents the other
members of the sun's family as probably suns. More
than a century passed before the idea grew to its full
development which has its germ really in the works of
Copernicus:
" We find in my new theory what can be discerned
in no other scheme — an admirable symmetry of the uni-
verse, an harmonious disposition of the orbits. For who
could assign to the lamp of this beautiful temple a better
position than the centre, whence alone it can illuminate all
parts at once? Here the sun, as from a kingly throne,
sways the family of orbs which circle around him."
This idea, scarcely changed in form, though many new
details were introduced from the time of Christian Huy-
ghens till the day when Dr. Whewell, then Master of
Trinity, who had already produced, as one of the Bridge-
water Treatises, an interesting contribution to the litera-
ture of " Life in Other Worlds," startled many thinking
men by the anonymous publication of his strangely-
named " Plurality of Worlds," the real object of which
was to show that our earth is the only member of the
solar system which can possibly be the abode of life, or
at any rate of the higher forms of life. Sir David
Brewster was moved to write, in reply, his "More
Worlds than One," in which he defended the doctrine
of life in other worlds, then not quite two centuries old,
as " the creed of the philosopher and the hope of the
Christian." The controversy between these two dis-
tinguished men, unequal though it was (for Whewell
was far better versed in the matters chiefly dealt with
than Brewster), and bearing though it did on a subject not
strictly scientific, led to much really valuable scientific
thought. If nothing else had been evolved by it than the
first clear and definite suggestion ( made by Whewell )
that the theory of our galaxy and of external galaxies,
advanced by William Herschel, supported by Humboldt,
and Arago, and a host of others, and even to this day
lingering in our books of astronomy, cannot possibly be
correct, the disputants, eminent though they were in
their several lines of work and valuable as their time
was to the scientific world, would not have wasted time
over the unscientific subject about which they had been
in controversy.
At the close of the controversy between Whewell
and Brewster, it seemed as though choice only remained
between two ideas. Whewell's new view, really the
belief which had prevailed for thousands of years and to
the seventeenth century, that our earth is the only
inhabited world; and the modern doctrine that every
planet in the solar system, and all the planets in systems
attending on each one of all the millions of suns peopling
space in the abode of life, each sun nourishing life
596
THE OPEN COURT.
each moon helping to make life comfortable on the
world upon which it attends. It was thus the matter
presented itself to me when, in the years 1867-1869, I
dealt, in various essays, and in 1S70 in a book, with this
fascinating subject, — a subject which, though not scien-
tific itself, has ever been pregnant with scientific sugges-
tion.
But as I studied it, — then without the aid of that
theory of biological evolution, whose bearing on the
subject I am now proposing to consider — I began to see
that analogy and direct evidence alike suggest a theory
of much greater interest than either of the others, as well
as much more probable. I saw that time as well as
space must be taken into account. If this orb in one
part of space is inhabited, and also perhaps that other orb
in some remote part of space, but not the intervening
space between the two, must we not see at least the
probability that in like manner one particular time may
be a season of life for one world, and some far remote
time the season of life for another.
This idea grew as I gathered the evidence more
fully together, and examined it more carefully, until at
length I was able to adopt a definite method of classify-
ing worlds into those which are in the stages of prepara-
tion in the support of life, those which are in mid-life,
and those which are in the stages of decay and even of
death. Without regarding the size of a planet as afford-
ing a definite indication of the stage of life it has prob-
ably reached — for science knows nothing as yet, though
it has guessed much, about the probable order in which
the several planets began their orb life — I yet adopted
as a sound general principle the belief that the larger
planets are younger than the smaller. It may be shown
that the stages of the lives of the giant planets Saturn
and Jupiter would probably be five or six times as long
as the corresponding stages of the life of our earth.
Substituting for the many millions of years which our
earth has endured (her own record tells us this) five or
six times as many millions of years, we see that even
though Jupiter or Saturn had begun their careers as
planets several millions of years earlier than the earth
that start would long since have been much more than
covered by the earth with her five-fold or six-fold rate
of progress through the stages of planetary life, and the
giants would be now much younger than the earth. In
like manner, even if our moon had started her independ-
ent orb-life several millions of years later than the earth,
yet, with her much smaller mass, our companion world
would have lived so much more quickly that she would
have been old when the earth was still young, and
would have reached the stage of death millions of years
before the earth had reached her present condition of
middle life.
I was thus able to classify the members of the solar
system into the representatives of five distinct stages of
rob life, one, or at the utmost two only, of which could
be regarded as suited for the support of forms of animal
or vegetable existence. These were, — first, the glowing
vaporous stage, of which our sun is the only example,
the fiery stage, of which the giant planets Jupiter and
Saturn are representatives; the time of mid-life, repre-
sented by our earth and probably by Venus; old age,
represented by Mars and Mercury ; and death, of which
the moon is the only known example, though probably
among the moons of the giant planets and among the
asteroids there may be other instances.
It was natural to extend the analogy from world-life
to sun-life. If there are young- and old and middle aged
worlds, so also there must probably be young and old
and middle-aged suns. If the larger worlds have longer
stages of world-life than the smaller, and are therefore
probably the younger, having passed through relatively
much smaller portions of their much longer lives, so also
it would seem that the larger suns would be generally
much younger (in development) than the smaller. Nor
is evidence wanting, little though we know of the real
sizes of the stars, to show that this is actually the case.
The stars or suns have been classified by means of
the spectroscope into four orders, which may justly be
regarded as representing four distinct periods of sun-life.
There are those which shine with a steely white lustre,
like Sirius, Vega, Altair, and others, whose spectra indi-
cate an even intenser splendor than that of our sun's sur-
face, and a far extending outer region of hydrogen as chief
among the elements able to absorb much of those sunB'
light on its way outwards into space. The suns of this
order, among which one-half of the six hundred exam-
ined by Secchi were classed, include a few like Sirius
and Vega, which are undoubtedly much larger than our
sun, and almost certainly much more massive. We may
fairly infer, though we know not the real distances of
the remaining stars of this order, that they are all of the
same giant class as Sirius, which emits two hundred
times as much light as the sun, so that assuming his
intrinsic lustre to be twice as great as the sun's, he has a
surface one hundred times as great, which would imply a
diameter ten times, and a volume no less than one thou-
sand times as great. In fact, we find reason to think that
these giant, and therefore youthful, suns exceed our
sun, and his real fellows among the stars, in about the
same degree that the sun exceeds the giant planets, or
that these exceed our earth and her fellow planets of
what is called the terrestrial order.
Then next, we have stars of a yellowish white color,
which are shown by the spectroscope to be closely akin
to our own sun in condition. Such are Capella and Aide-
varan, suns probably akin also to our sun in size. Of
the six hundred stars examined by Secchi with the
spectroscope, about one-fourth were of this second class.
THE OPEN COURT.
597
Thirdly, we have stars of mostly of yellowish- orange
tint, which are shown by the spectroscope to be sur-
rounded by atmospheres powerfully absorptive, and
therefore relatively cool. Such are Procyon, Arcturus,
Antares, and others among the somewhat ruddy stars.
We may safely infer that they are farther advanced in
sun life than the sun which rules our own earth and her
fellow worlds.
Tnen, fourthly, we have stars showing much deeper
tints, — strong red, garnet, purple, blue and green —
which under spectroscopic examination show such evi-
dence of absorptive atmospheres as to indicate a yet
more advanced age than the third class, if we may not
regard them as actually decrepit.
The final stage of the caieer of a sun — namely, the
stage of death — could not be recognized in the same way
as the four stages of actual life. For the death of a sun
comes only when the sun is absolutely dark; and to a
dark orb the spectroscopic method, which depends on
the analysis of light, cannot possibly be applicable.
But yet we have clear evidence (if such a term is not
self- contradictory ) of the existence of dark suns in the
galaxy. An orb does not cease to exert the attractive
powers due to its mass when it ceases to be truly a sun,
in being a source of light and heat, and with them life,
to dependent worlds. Its perturbing action may be
recognized indirectly by means of light-messages, if the
orbs which it disturbs be themselves luminous. And
astronomers, in point of fact, more than suspect, if even
they may not be said to have absolutely demonstratt d,
the existence of dark suns by the perturbations which
suns still full of their primeval lustre have been observed
to undergo. It may be said that the regular changes in
the lustre of that strange sun Algol, the Winking
Demon Star of Arabian astronomers, attesting as they do
the existence of an opaque attendant nearly as large as
that sun itself, demonstrate the existence of at least one
dark sun, in a different way, but still by the teachings of
light- messages. Nay, for my own part, I recognise the
giant planets in the solar system as dark suns: young
as worlds, they are old, if not dead, as suns — actually
dead if darkness means death, though they may be so
hot that they may still possess some degree of life-nour-
ishing power for the satellite worlds attending on them.
Thus far I had advanced in dealing with the subject
«f life in other worlds, and life-supporting power in
other suns, as early as, 1S75, within six years of the sug-
gestion of the thought that the life-bearing stage of a
planet's career is but a portion of the planet's life-history.
During those six years, but with growing clearness,
thoughts of the probably limitless variety existing among
worlds and suns had presented themselves. But I had
Hot definitely considered such ideas — still less had I
dwelt upon them.
But of late the conviction has been forced upon me
that until these considerations have been duly taken into
account, no just ideas respecting other worlds and other
suns can possibly be formed. It is not merely in the
philosophic study of a problem not strictly scientific, but
in the strictly scientific inquiry into the probable struc-
ture of the universe, that such considerations present
themselves, and call for discussion in the strictly manner.
When we are dealing with the probability of life in
other worlds, indeed, we cannot push to its full limits the
argument from analogy (which is, in fact, all we have
for our guidance), without coming upon the considera-
tion that the whole life-history of one planet may in any
given case, and must in an immense number of cases, be
as utterly unlike the life-history of another planet, as
the history of one planet is unlike the history of another
belonging to a different class. The two planets doubt-
less each pass through the glowing vaporous stage, the
fiery era, the life-bearing period and the stages of old
age, decay, and death, just as an oak and a poplar (not
to take a wider range of variety) pass severally through
the successive stages of tree-life seen in the seedling, the
sapling, the full grown tree, the tree grown old and
withered, and the dead stump. In this respect all orbs
may be said to be alike. But in the details of the sev-
eral stages of planet life there may be as great a variety
as in the details of the stages of planet life, — nay, must
there not in all probability be a much greater range of
variety among planets than among plants? A man who
pictures the conditions of life, for example, on Jupiter or on
the moon, during the periods when one planet will here-
after be and the moon formerly was, a fit abode for liv-
ing creatures, to be the same as the present condition of
our own earth, would probably be as far wrong (merely
viewing the question from the standpoint of analogy)
as an insect would be who, having concluded that the trees
in the forest bad all, like his own elm home, their stages
of tree-life, should conclude that a sapling oak would
grow to be an elm, and that the withered stump of a
poplar represented what had been an elm at some remote
epoch in the history of the forest.
When we turn from the mere suggestions of analogy,
which, though they may be trustworthy in a general
way, can hardly be regarded as of scientific weight
in regard to detad, and consider the probable life-
histories of planets, differing in size certainly, and
probably also in structure, we are forced to precisely the
same conclusion to which we had been led by analogy.
It is manifest that even if two planets unequal in
size are nevertheless formed of exactly the same materials
similarly proportioned, the physical features of the
two planets at corresponding stages of the career of
each must be altogether unlike. Consider, for example,
our earth and the moon, taking the stage of life through
which our earth is passing now and through which the
598
THE OPEN COURT.
moon passed millions of years since. If the moon then
had as much water and as much air, compared with her
mass, as the earth has now, then she had one eighty- first
part of the earth's allowance of each of these important
planetary appurtenances. As the water and air ot the
moon would he distributed over a surface which is
between one-thirteenth and one-fourteenth of the earth's,
it is clear that there would be but one-sixth as much of
either to each square mile of surface on the moon as there
is on the earth. And the actual density of the air would
be reduced in even a greater degree; for, under the
smaller power of lunar gravity — one-sixth only of
terrestrial gravity — the smaller quantity of air over each
square mile would press downwards with only one-
thirty-sixth of the pressure of our air at the sea-level, and
the density of the lunar air would be less in this
important degree.
All those wearing forces, then, which air and water
exert on the earth now, and have exerted during many
millions of past years — forces by which not only the
present aspect of the earth, but her aspect during the
whole time over which geology extends its survey, has
been determined — were altogether insignificant on the
moon during the corresponding portion of her life-
history. Not only were the tools with which the moon's
face was fashioned much weaker, but they were used by
a much weaker hand, — namely, by lunar gravity, having
but one-sixth the strength of gravity as exerted by the
earth. Adding to this the consideration that these
weaker and less effectively used forces continued in
action for a much shorter period of time, we see that the
moon's aspect throughout the whole duration of that
part of her planet life which corresponded with the
earth's life-bearing stage must have been utterly unlike
that presented by our earth. But we have seen that her
physical condition must also have been very different
from our earth's, even if her aspect had been the same
and her structure identical. The conditions of life, both
animal and vegetable, on the moon's surface, and in her
air and within her seas, must have been utterly unlike
those now prevailing on the earth, and also unlike those
which have prevailed or will prevail during all portions
past and present of the earth's life-bearing career. All this
we recognise, be it noticed, even on the most favorable
assumptions with regard to possible resemblance in
original condition and structure; but since the effects of
the great diversity of mass must have been fully as great
in every st ige of the primeval progress of each planet,
while the glowing vaporous and fiery stages lasted much
longer, and were probably far more decisive as to the
future ch iracteristics of the forming planets than the life-
bearing stage, we see that in all probability even the
resemblance of structure which we imagined must be
given up, and still more marked divergencies admitted
in all the circumstances determining the characteristics
of life upon the earth and moon respectively.
In comparing any other planet with the earth, we
not only have considerations such as these to take into
account, but also those others which have long been
recognised (i hough their full significance is only now
beginning to be realized), which depend on differences
in the lengths of the various planets' days and
years, the different amounts of light and heat planets
receive from the sun, and other peculiarities which must
importantly affect the development of animal and
vegetable life. The life-history of a planet like Mars
or Mercury, for example, must differ in marked decree
from that of our own earth; but even were the stages of
life the same on either planet as on the earth, the much
smaller amount of heat received by Mars, and the much
greater amount received by Mercury, must produce
important differences in the' conditions under which life
would exist on the surface of either planet, as compared
with the conditions (luring corresponding stages of the
life-history of our earth. It is barely possible, though
exceedingly unlikely, that peculiarities in the atmospheres
of planets nearer to or farther from the sun than the
earth may tend to temper, in one case, the excessive heat
of the sun, and in the other to augment the effects ot the
smaller amount of heat he supplies. But even if this
were the case — even if we were justified in thus
imagining peculiarities of which our earth, the only
planet we can study, affords no evidence — these very
peculiarities would result in different conditions of life,
and lead to ihe very conclusion to which we should be
guided by considering the m >re probable peculiarities
resulting from difference of distance from the sun.
It is clear, then, that the conditions under which life
wou'd exist in two planets, whether unequal in mass
and unlike in physical structure, or traveling at different
distances from the sun, or differing in all respects from
each other, would be unlike. Of old, this consideration,
when it was noticed at all, led only to the inquiry
whether such creatures as exist on the earth could exist
on other worlds, in what respects they might need
protection against undue heat or cold or great changes
of temperature, and in what degree they might thrive
under conditions differing more or less markedly from
those which prevail on the earth. Dr. Whewell went
further than others in considering the effects of such
varieties of condition when, in dealing with the giant
planets, he discussed the probable results of their great
distance from the sun and their difference of mean
specific gravity. I differ toto cixlo from Dr. Whewell
in regard to all the points of detail mentioned in the
followii'gp issage — and indeed my views as to the intense
heat still pervading the masses of the giant planets, have
long snee displaced those which Dr. Whewell here
advances; but the general idea running through the
THE OPEN COURT.
599
passage, the idea — namely, that where the cbnditions
differ the features of life must differ also — is altogether
sound, and the liveliness of imagination shown
throughout the passage is much to he commended :
"Taking into account the circumstances of Jupiter's state;
his probably bottomless waters; his light (if any) solid materials;
the strong hand with which gravity presses down such materials
as there are; the small amount of light and heat which reaches
him, at five times the earth's distance from the sun ; what kind of
inhabitants shall we be led to assign to him? Can they have
skeletons where no substance so dense as bone is found, at least
in large masses? It would seem not probable. And it would
seem they must be dwellers in the waters, for against the existence
there of solid land we have much evidence. Thev must, with
so little of light and heat, have a low degree of vitality. They
must then, it would seem, be cartilaginous and glutinous (query:
gelatinous?) masses; peopling 'he waters with minute forms;
perhaps also with larger monsters; for the weight of a bulky
creature, floating in the fluid would be much more easily sustained
than on solid ground. If we are resolved to have such a
population, and that they shall live by food, we must suppose that
the waters contain at least so much solid matter as is requisite for
the sustenance of the lower classes; for the higher classes of
animals will probably find their food in consuming the lower.
I do not know whether the advocates of peopled worlds will think
such a population as this worth contending for, but I think the
only doubt can be between such a popu ation and none. If
Jupiter be a mere mass of water, with perhaps a few cinders [!]
at the centre, and an envelope of clouds arou' d it, it seems
very probable that he may not be the seat of life at all. But il
life be there, it does not seem in any way likely that the living
things can be anything higher in the scale of being than such
boneless, watery, pulpy creatures as I have imagined."
Underlying all this there is the idea of the special
creation of creatures to correspond in nature with the
conditions under which thev would have to live. The
modern view according to which the various species and
varieties of animal and vegetahle life, as it were, adapt
themselves to their environment, enables us not only to
reason more confidently as to the difference of life-forms in
planets unlike our own, but also as to the difference in the
whole process of life development in such worlds as com-
pared with ours. Knowing that so far back as we can trace
the existence of life upon this earth, from the primary
age onward, through the secondary, tertiary, and recent
ages to our own time, thioughout many millions of
years, there have been multitudinous de\elopments of
animal and vegetable life in all directions, wherein the
tree of life could spread its infinitely varied branches,
we can see that in a planet where from the very
beginning of life, through the whole life- bearing stagr,
the conditions were dissimilar, the whole tree of life
must have been unlike. Our biologists are beginning
to recognize how this antl that species or variety owed
its very existence to the character of the environments;
antl astronomy shows surely that all the conditions
which the biologist recognizes a decisive in the develop-
ment of animal and vegetahle life on the earth must be
quite diff rent in other planets: thus then it is absolutely
certain that if the theory of biological evolution is sound
(which no one now doubts whose opinion is of weight),
all the forms of life in other worlds must be unlike those
existing on our earth.
We may not be quite so certain, though it appears
altogether probable, that the forms of life in worlds
whose life stages were much shorter than those of our
earth, must have been inferior to the most advanced of
those which have developed here. For it seems
conceivable, however unlikely, that in a planet having
shorter life periods, the conditions might have been such
as to favor the rapid development of the higher forms
of life. We have reason to believe, indeed, that on the
earth races have remained little unchanged sometimes
for hundreds of thousands of years, and have then
undergone rapid changes in response to marked changes
in the conditions under which they have subsisted.
Doubtless the progress of development might be more
rapid in a planet whose life stages were comparatively
short, than it has been upon our earth. Yet time must
be an important factor in the development of life,
regarded as a whole, upon a planet. And we must
regard it as at the least highly probable that on Mars,
on Mercury, and in the moon, few of the higher forms
of life were (or have been) developed,' those forms being
also entirely unlike the higher life forms on our earth.
As for the development of a creature akin to man, when
we consider the exceedingly definite nature of the
course along which evolution proceeded in developing
man, the multitudinous conditions on which his develop-
ment as the creature he is depended, and the enormous
length of time required to produce him from among all the
numerous races developed upon the earth, we perceive
the utter unlikelihood that any creatures resembling him
exist on any other world in the universe. There may
well be — nay, we might almost say there certainly must
be — creatures resembling man in intelligence in other
worlds than ours, but it would be absurd to assume, and
unsafe even to imagine, that such creatures would have
the form and appearance of the human race on earth.
It must also be regarded as improbable that in worlds
like Mars, Mercury, and the moon, having much shorter
lives than our earth, creatures possessing intelligence
such as man has, and still more unlikely that creatures
like the civilized man of our own time (in which I include
the last six thousiind years at least) have ever existed on
those short-lived worlds. When we consider how
many millions of years our earth continued as an abode
of millions of millions of living creatures ere yet even
the lowest types of human life were developed, and
during how many tens of thousands of years millions of
human beings existed before thinking, reasoning,
philosophic man was developed upon this earth, we see
that Nature which is thus prodigal in regard to time may
well be prodigal also in regard to space, and leave many
worlds in a solar system, as well as long-time intervals
6oo
THE OPEN COURT.
in the history of any given world, unadorned by the
presence of reasoning, philosophic beings.
The same thought seems to me to be suggested when
we look forwards to the probable future of our earth's
history. The civilized man is vigorously preparing a
rapid close to his own existence. The period during
which the materials of civilization (as it now exists at
any rate) can endure at the present rate of their
consumption, is a period which can be but as a second in
the earth's future history. Within a few hundreds of
years (or a few thousands at the outside) the earth-
stores on which civilization is draining so lavishly, and
with evergrowing activity, must be absolutely exhausted,
and man will be left to depend, like other animals, on the
earth's annual produce — on herincome, her capital being
exhausted. That under such conditions man will retain
his present position must be regarded as unlikely, to say
the least. It would seem that whether we look
backwards or forwards, we must recognize the existence
of that special development of terrestial life — civilized
man — as limited within a few thousands of years, as
lasting in fact but for a time which compared with the
duration of life upon this earth is as a few minutes
compared with lifetime.
THE AIM OF THE ETHICAL MOVEMENT.
BY PROF. FELIX ADLER.
Report of an address given before the Convention of the Union of the
Societies for Ethical Culture in Chicago, Sunday, Nov. so, 1*97.*
It lias fallen to my lot to close the exercises of convention
Sunday. What subject, under such circumstances, can be more
appropriate than to consider the real underlying aim of our work?
And 1 propose, in the brief time which I shall occupy, to con-
sider a number of questions which naturally arise in the mind
when the aim of the ethical movement is stated, and to give brief
replies to those questions. The first question of this kind that
naturally arises is this: Is a society for ethical culture a re-
ligious society ? I think we ought to face that question frankly
and fairly. It is evident that we have among our members not a
few persons who do not in the least care for religion ; who protest
against religious belief in any shape. We have, on the other
hand, persons who are deeply and fervently religious. I think I
may say that all the lecturers of the society thus far are religious
men. But is the society for ethical culture, as such, religious?
The word "religion" has always implied a theory of a universe,
and of man's relation to the universe. If we take the word in
this its natural meaning, I think I must sav for myself It would
be unfair to call the Society for Ethical Culture a religious
society, because we do not oblige our members to an acceptance
of any theory of a universe, or of man's relations to a universe.
We ask no questions concerning the belief of our members.
We have no creed which they need to subscribe to before being
admitted, nor any outside creed adopted or accepted by the
society. On the other hand, there is a sense in which I believe we
would all agree that our societies are religious societies. In this
sense they are religious, in that we believe that the work in which
we are engaged gives us, and would give to others, if they would
only join, the same satisfaction that religious belief and forms
and ceremonies give to those who are in the churches. We feel,
* Not revised by tlie Professor Adler.
as a matter of principle, that we do not need to insist upon it as a
matter of doctrine; we feel, as a matter of principle, that the per-
formance of duty and all that implies is an inspiration — a religious
inspiration, a deep, warm, fervent inspiration ; that it does for us
what religious doctrine does for the old-time believers. It gives
us an aim in life. It answers to us the question: Is lite worth
living?
And why is it worth living? To perform our duty. Lite is
worth living because we have duties to perform. It is worth liv-
ing for no other reason. This work in which we are engaged
thus sets a purpose in our life. It inspires us in times when we
are active and able to meet our responsibilities; and it gives us
comfort and consolation in times of affliction. No one has yet
adequately spoken upon this thing. No one has yet adequately
declared what wealth of comfort there is in the idea of duty. It
is in the nature of every affliction to open to us larger duties, more
difficult and finer duties, than have been imposed upon us before.
In the performance of these larger duties which affliction unfolds
to us lies our consolation. They give us strength. They educate
us. They lift us up. They spiritualize us. We can claim, then,
that our societies are religious societies in the sense that they
give us the same satisfaction as is given to those within the
churches.
The next question is, taking the word religion in the way I
have used it, Are our societies anti-religious? By no means are
they that. There is only one point in which we come into col-
lision with the teachings of the current religious systems. All
the positive religions desire, as they tell us, is to elevate the moral
life of the members of the churches and the community. So far
as that aim goes there seems to be no difference between us. But
mark the great difference in the method. They all say, "We
want to lead men to do what is right" ; but they add, " No man can
do what is right unless he first accepts certain doctrines." There
are certain conditions which must be fulfilled before men can pro-
ceed to lead a moral life. For instance, you can not be virtuous,
do what is good, be moral, unless you first believe in God. There-
fore, you must lay the whole emphasis of your teaching on belief
in God, or belief in a future state of rewards and punishments.
Before these conditions are fulfilled, before these beliefs have
been followed up, it is hopeless to expect of men that they can be
moral. Now, here we differ from the churches; and this point
over which we dispute is a most important point of departure.
The important point of departure is this: They think it is neces-
sary to reach the conscience indirectly. We believe it is possible
to reach the conscience directly. We say that whether a man be-
lieves or not is immaterial so far as right action is concerned. We
believe it is only necessary to hold the rule of right-doing before
a man, and that if it is really right he will accept it, whether he
believes the theory of it or not. The appeal to conscience is
direct, and the response of conscience is immediate. Now, this is
the chief point to which I would call the attention of my hearers.
It is the radical point from which we depart from the churches.
The effect has been, as shown by history, that this assumption
that there are certain preliminaries which must be fulfilled ha6
led men to give their chief time and attention to these prelimi-
naries; and in the attempt to build up these indispensable condi-
tions to the moral life, strange to say, the religious world has
ignored the first principles of morality. You know what re-
ligious historv ttlls us on this subject; that it has initiated cruel
wars, that it has been the cause of murder, and has given use to
inhuman and unnatural forms of punishment and torture, and
given thousands and thousand of human beings to the flames, all
for the purpose of securing in their minds those indispensable
conditions which are the requisites, they say, to a moral life, a
virtuous life. And even yet is this so. Million^ and millions of
dollars are being spent to-day in the sending out of missionaries
THE OREN COURT
OOI
to the heathen — -not to cultivate, not to civilize them, not to plant
schools — though that is done incidentally — but for the main pur-
pose of inculcating beliefs without which, it is believed, a virtu-
ous life is impossible. Other millions are spent in erecting
churches and chapels for the purpose of teaching, not that which
is good in itself — for no man claims that a belief in hell is good in
itself — but that which is supposed to be necessary for the accom-
plishment of the ulterior object. I have read, in a story of one of
the loveliest of the saints. Princess Elizabeth, of Hungary, how
the Princess, as she looked up to the figure of Christ on the cross
and saw the agony in his face, quiet mechanically took off' the
golden crown from her own head and put it away from her, and
how, when her attendants, in astonishment, asked her "What are
you doing?" she answered: "This golden crown of mine mocks
the crown of thorns." The Episcopal bishop of New York asks
for millions of dollars to build a magnificent sanctuary while
there are thousands in New York suffering from grinding pov-
erty, from hunger, from crime, and almost homeless, and all these
millions he wanted to spend for the purpose of teaching these
indispensible conditions — those beliefs without which moral
action is impossi ble, instead of spending at once these millions in
feeding the hungry, clothing the bare, giving decent homes to
those who are without shelter, banishing ignorance, and doing
away with vice. The roundabout method of the Christian church
has born evil fruit. The way you seek good is false. By teach-
ing that belief is necessary you are putting obstacles between man
and right action. We say that the direct appeal is necessary.
Call upon men to do the right. Make it plain to their minds
what right is, without any of your beliefs, without any of your
conditions. Men will respond to your appeals and follow the
line of conduct you propose. This is the essential point of
departure of the ethical societies from the ethical teachers of
the church.
The third question which I would ask — and it is the last — is
this: Are we not in danger of falling into an external view of
morality if we insist on right action only? I answer that no act
is right unless the motive that leads to it is right. We do not
claim to lay down a law as to what is the right motive. We only
ask every man and woman to act from what they believe to be
the right motive, but we will not attempt to force them to accept
any particular motive as the right one. There are a great manv
different philosophical systems and theories contending together
as to what the right motive is. The utilitarian tells us that the
motive must be measured by the usetulness of the object sought.
The materialist says that obedience to natural law is alone the
right motive. And so on with the others. Now, then, I confess
that there appears, at first sight, great danger that we may lose
our sense of union — that we may lose our sense of solidarity in
this movement if we commence by disputing on theological
sects. The arguments of the natural sects are no more sweet to
me than those of the theological sects. There is no philosophi-
cal view on which the ethical movement stands. It does not
stand on the Spencerian nor the Pantheistic system, nor the
material. The ethical movement simply says: Do the right
from what you believe to be the right motive. The movement
is unpledged and tree, and will so remain. I trust, as long
as it exists. There is but one thing, one plank, in our plat-
form— practical righteousness; and that is the text to which the
different theories will be finally brought. So I say to the philo-
sophical theorist that that theory which produces the best re-
sults, that theory which evolves the finest types of character,
that theory which gives us the noblest and most exalted standards
of character, that theory which shall be most triumphantly
proved by its fruits, will have the victory. By their fruits shall
they be judged. Not in the closet of the thinker, but in the open
mart of lite, where temptations beset us, there shall philosophic*
meet and contend, and there shall they be judged.
Yes, I think we are on absolutely safe ground in saying that
our single plank is practical right-living, right conduct, practical
righteousness. And what does that mean? Does that onlr
mean goody-goody talk? Does it mean only obeying the
decalogue— not killing our neighbors ami not breaking any of
those more obvious rules of conduct? No, my friends. Practical
righteousness means depths beyond depths of hope; glory bevond
glory of human grandeur and worth. It will mean, in times to
come, a new state founded on justice, a new organization of
society in which the few shall not strive lor wealth at the ex-
pense of the toil and. the misery of the manv, but in which all
shall be able to lead a whole human life. It will mean, in the
time to come, a new law of purity in the relations between the
sexes, a law of purity not only outside of marriage, but a new
law of purity within marriage; a fairer interpretation of the duties
which the husband owes to the wife and which the wife owes to
the husband; a new conception of the dignity and worth of
womanhood. It means — it will mean in the time to come — a new
reverence for childhood, a new education; and it will mean, also,
in the time to come, a new conscience, headed from the deep
springs of ethical truth, and a new heart lifted above the petty
themes to which the degeneracy of the times has led us to descend
— lifted so as to enable it to express the noblest and the loftiest
aspirations of the human soul. That is what we mean by practi-
cal righte msness. That is the work, members of the societies for
ethical culture, in which we are engaged. Who shall say that it
is not a large and inspiring work — that it lacks in divine impulses
— that it has no power to stir and exalt? Let us pledge ourselves
anew as we have met here to-day in this great city of the West.
Let us pledge our allegiance to it anew. Let us pledge ourselves
to be true to it, and it will make us true. Let us elevate its in-
terests high above all sordid interests. Let us consecrate to it
our life and our strength; and in its name and for its purposes let
us stand together as one band of brothers, united in our true and
holy cause.
THE AMERICAN ETHICAL SOCIETIES.
Mrs. McCullom, a member of the London Ethical Society,
at the concluding session of the Convention of the Union of
Ethical Societies, held in this city, said last Sunday:
"I am sure that many English people would join me in saving
that we owe a debt of gratitude to the American Ethical Societies
for so clearly showing us how to organize the work and express
the faith in which we are vitally interested. In England where
speech on religious matters is far less free than it is here, and
where custom is iar more tyrannical, that faith is held bv many
quietly and silently, not without suffering, for it is a hard thing
for scattered individuals, without any organization, to cut them-
selves from the religious sympathies which count for so much in
everyday life. To these believers in ethics the news of the
American Ethical Societies comes like a veritable gospel, and
their feeling was well expressed by one who attended an ethical
lecture in London, and said she felt as though she had stepped
out from a fog on to a breezy common.
"The London Ethical Society was formed about a vear ago,
but has done little. Most of the members have long been en-
gaged in teaching, in working for the C. O. A. the C. II. F. and
similar organizations, so that their hands are already full. They
have therefore confined themselves, so far as the societv is con-
cerned, to giving Sunday evening lectures at the east end of Lon-
don; discussion is allowed after the lecture and interesting ques-
tions are sometimes asked. I am sure that if the Ethical move-
ment in this country were more widely known and more accurately
understood in Great Britain, it would win many adherents among
6(32
THE OPEN COURT.
those whose motto is "Reason and Freedom be our watchword,"
and who therefore cannot work happily under the clerical man-
agement that controls so many of our philanthropic efforts.
Progress among us is greatly retarded by the action of those — ■
and thev are many — who go to church for form's sake or to avoid
comment. They select, perhaps, the most liberal church they
can find, thev repeat there words they do not really believe, they
subscribe to church funds, and then think they have done their
duty. You, in America, are plainly showing us that they are
wrong, that honesty demands that we should not endorse the
public expression of opinions we think misleading, that we should
clear our minds from confession, that, in fact, as one of your lec-
turers put it, 'It is the duty of every man to be reasonable.' And
this dutv is especially imperative for women also, for if we are to
pass on any truths effectively to the next generation, we must
understand it clearly ourselves. We must not believe,
merely because we wish to believe, or say that the happiness
of life depends on the nobility of some cherished notion;
that is the language of moral cowards. We are here in
circumstances and with limitations that are not of our
making or choosing, and the great questions for us are, what can
we believe truly, and how can we act worthily. If facts are ha rd
we must summon more courage to face them, remembering thatj
if we shirk them, it is our children that will pay the penalty; that
if we accustom ourselves to mental narcotics we shall hardly be
able lo teach our boys to be good moral citizens.
"I trust that in the near future an increasing number of
women, both here and in England, will realize that clear thinking
brings peace and joy, and that the work of the Ethical Societies
can fully satisfy any religious demand that it based on reason.
It is as true now as in the days of the Roman poet that
"Heaven lies about us, and we do its will
Not uninspired though all the shrines be still.
CORRESPONDENCE.
THIRD CONGRESS OF THE GERMAN SOCIAL DEMO-
CRATS.
To tlte Editors:
On October 2d, at Bruggen, near St. Gall, in Switzerland,
was opened the third congress that has been held by the social
democrats of Germany since the promulgation of the anti-socialist
law in 1878. The congress held in Copenhagen, four and a half
years ago, had been of extraordinary importance, as was shown by
the result of the elections in the year following, and by the ever-
increasing severity of the repression on the part of the govern-
ment. The law was even more rigorously applied and more
arbitrarily interpreted than before; the right of free speech was
restricted or abolished; the clubs of the socialists were dissolved,
their meetings prohibited and their journals suppressed. District
after district was placed under the state of siege, and all the
avowed members and prominent leaders of the party were ruth-
lesslv persecuted, imprisoned or expelled. However pressingly,
therefore, the need of another congress had made itself felt, a
change of tactics had become imperative in the face of these per-
secutions, and, since it was impossible to convene a congress in
the fatherland, it was resolved to accept the hospitality offered by
a neighbor country. Private invitations were issued, the circum-
stances of time and place were kept a secret from the government,
and a congress was organized to be held in Switzerland. So that
when, on the first Sunday in October, from all quarters of the
German Empire flocked the representatives of the party, none of
the constituted authorities either in or out of Berlin had an ink-
ling of the thing, while all the necessary arrangements for the
reception and comfortable quartering of the delegates had been
most admirably made.
From all parts of Germany, with the solitary exception of the
Northeastern districts, in which the party is comparatively weak,
owing to the agricultural population and the undeveloped state of
industry, delegates had congregated. The number ot delegates
present amounted to eighty, an aggregate never attained by any
previous congress, and a fresh proof of the vitality ol the move-
ment and of the devotion and fearlessness of its members, seeing
to what consequences the men taking part in the congress expose
themselves.
At a preliminary meeting, the customary greetings and
introductions having been gone through with, it was decided that
the proceedings should commence on the morning of the next
day with the election of a president. Ex-deputy Auer, who spoke
in the name of the conveners of the congress, opened the first
daj''s sitting. Ignatz Auer, a harness-maker by trade, is a tall,
middle-aged man with a red beard. Elected in 1S77, he has taken
an active part in the movement, both in and out of Parliament.
In 1880 he pronounced a three hours' speech against the state of
siege in Berlin and the abuses of arbitrary power under it; in
18S1 he was expelled from Berlin and subsequently from Ham-
burgh.
Deputies Singer and Hasenclever were elected presidents.
Singer is a prosperous manufacturer and a Jew. He is a wealthy
man and a most generous one; chief founder of the Refuge for
the Homeless, an institution supported by private contributions;
when, after the proclamation of the state of siege in Berlin,
large numbers of socialists were forcibly expelled, he contributed
5,000 marks in aid of their families. Both he and Hasenclever are
prominent members of the party, the latter a tanner by trade,
elected for Berlin and Breslau; was a friend and disciple of the
great German agitator, Ferdinand Lassalle, and president of the
Workingmen's Association founded by the same.
Bebel was the first to speak. August Bebel, perhaps the most
popular of all the socialist leaders, is a man of about forty-six;
delicate in appearance and unassuming in manners, he has a fine
and open countenance, with brown hair and beard; he is a very
fine orator, persuasive in argument and unrivalled as a debater.
He has suffered imprisonment for many years, and has only just
regained his liberty in time to put in an appearance at the congress.
Bebel said, that if the material condition of the party could be
taken as a standard measure of its moral and political power, it
was high. Repression and persecution had been powerless to
injure it: quite the other way, in proportion as the violence of
the government had increased, the ardor and spirit of sacrifice of
the socialists had been stimulated, and he was happy to be able to
affirm that, financially speaking, their position was a most satis-
factory one. In the course of his speech Bebel explained that
the total income, by voluntary contributions from the German
members of the party had amounted, from 1SS3 to 1SS7, to the
sum of 135 748 marks, and to the sum of 208,655 marks when
including the contributions from comrades abroad and a deposit
in the bank. Before concluding, the speaker desired to call
attention to the admirable spirit and fortitude shown by the men
in the districts under the state of siege, and further desired to
thank the German comrades in the United States and Switzer-
land for the very material help afforded by them. The members
of the congress express their grateful recognition of this act of
solidarity by spontaneously rising from their seats.
Present at the congress: after having obtained permission to
attend, were many Swiss notabilities: Dr. Victor Adler, from
Vienna, editor of the excellent journal: Die Glcick-Hcit (Equality),
Frau Guillaume Schack, and Ernest Belfort Bax, from London.
Frau Schack is a middle-aged lady of noble family. She is of a
philanthropic turn of mind and an ardent convert to socialism.
Belfort Bax is a distinguished English socialist; a tall and thin
young man with a slight stoop, very dark eyes and expressive
THE OPEN COURT.
603
features. He is one of the founders of the London Socialist
League, and has been, with William Morris, co-editor of the
Commonweal. He is a brilliant essayist and an excellent scholar.
After much and thorough-going discussion, a series of reso-
lutions were put to the vote, and for the most part unanimously
carried. It was resolved that the line of conduct hitherto followed
by the socialist deputies in the Reichstag he maintained; that all
indirect contributions be condemned together with the monopoli-
zation aimed at, on purely fiscal grounds, of all general and
indispensable articles of consumption; that the tendency shown
by the refusal to tax brandy and sugar, and the proposal to
increase the duties on corn, be denounced as benefiting the
land-owners to the detriment of the lack-land classes. Respect-
ing the so-called governmental social reforms, Auer declares that
he recognizes in the rejection of the law proposed by the social
democrats for the protection of the workers, a conclusive proof
that the governing classes in Germany are wanting in the will to
do anything toward ameliorating the condition of the working
class.
It was further resolved that u only such candidates be sup-
ported as shall accept our platform and openly declare themselves
social democrats." And that an " international congress be
called for 1SS8, in view of a common action in furtherance of an
international law for the protection of workmen."
An important resolution was passed, to define the position of
the Social Democrats to the Anarchists. The resolution was de-
fended by Wilhelm Liel Knecht, a veteran of the party and one
of its chief leaders. Liel Knecht is a man of remarkable ability,
and.of extraordinary firmness of character. As early as 1S4S he
took part in the rising of Baden, and ever since he has been an
indefatigable worker in the service of the movement, fighting for
it alike in the Reichstag as an orator and in the press as editor of
the official organs of the party. In accordance with the expressed
wish of the Congress, his speech on Anarchy is to be published in
pamphlet form. The resolution declares that the Anarchist
theory, inasmuch as it aims at absolute individual autonomy, is
anti-socialistic, nothing better than a one-sided development of
middle-class liberalism, although in its criticism of the existing
social system it starts from the socialist standpoint. Above all it
is incompatible with the socialist demand for the socialization of
the means of production and the social regulation of production
and results, unless production is to be reduced to the dwarfish
standard of the small artisan, in insoluble contraditions. The
cultus, on the part of the Anarchists, of a policy of force, to the
exclusion of all other, is based on a gross misconception of the
idle of force in the history of peoples. Force is quite as much a
reactionary as a revolutionary factor — nay it has oftener acted as
the former. While condemning all individual acts of violence,
we make the representatives of reaction answerable for the same.
There exists no Anarchist party in Germany, but there are
" agents provocateurs in the pay of the reactionists, who use
them against the working-class."
A commission of three members was appointed and charged
with revising and slightly modifying the present programme of
the party. An adopted amendment proposes to substitute for the
principle of co-operation the demand for the expropriation of the
land and the means of production. Lastly, it was resolved that
all differences arising between members of the party be settled
not through the medium of the press but by arbitration.
Addresses and letters of congratulation had been received from
the Socialists of all countries; and in conclusion, President Singer
gave expression to the thanks of the party for the hospitality given
them in Switzerland. He pointed to the fact that the natives who
had attended the sittings, had manifested their surprise that con-
gresses, such as the one just held, should be prohibited in Ger-
many, considering the orderly and business-like character of the
proceedings. Amidst most enthusiastic cheering and applause
the St. Gall Congress, one of the most successful ever held, came
to a close after a four days' duration.
A characteristic feature of the Congress has been that all the
resolutions have been voted unanimously or bv an overwhelming
majority, a proof that whatever individual differences of opinion
may obtain on miner points, members and leaders of the partv are
at one as to the fundamental principles involved. Another
notable fact it is that a very marked tendency has been shown
throughout in favor of the extreme left of the socialist fraction in
the Reichstag, of those members who repudiate all compromise
and openly take their stand on the platform of Social Democracy.
A final conclusion to be drawn from the successful course and
character of the St. Gall Congress is that all the forms of persecu-
tion successively tried by Bismarck and the powers that be in
Germany have definitively been found wanting. Coercion laws
have proved powerless; all the pains and penalties of the penal
code so arbitrarily and mercilessly inflicted have not helped the
imperial government and have not hurt Social Democracy.
Certain it is, to cite the Paris Temps, that, "all these measures ot
repression point equally to the ardor of the government to fight
socialism, and to the growing success of this dangerous doctrine. "
Paris, November. LAl'RA LAFARGUE.
THE STUDY OF HUMAN SUFFERING.
To the Editors:
The interesting truths which you point out in a current edi-
torial on the subject of pleasure and pain are so common y ovei-
looked that I must thank you for continuing in this way a topic
which I had partly treated in my essay on "The Mystery of Pain
in a New Light." As you suggest, the happy half of the world,
even at present, knows but little of the suffering half. The great
trouble is, while keeping one's good intention apparent, and with-
out deserving the charge of cynicism, to make the happy half of
the world realize this fact, to show it that the very circumstance
of being comfortably fed and warmed and settled in life largely
incapacitates it for really feeling what extreme pain is. The
lawyer who, on taking up the newspaper after his cup of coffee
and morning drive and walk in the flower-garden, finds himself
led by the account of some dreadful casualty to reflect on the suf-
fering in the world, and who reassures himself, after awhile, by
the thought that it is no use worrying about such things — that
they will all be explained sometime, and that it is enough for
him to be a good lawyer and make his family as happy as possi-
ble, hardly realizes how much his cup of coffee and his drive and
his flower-garden have contributed to the logic of this conclusion.
He is more apt to think this conclusion due to the good sense
and reasoning power and blurt" energy which he is conscious of
possessing, and to attribute a contrary conclusion to a want of
these traits.
This sort of constitutional obtuseness which actually thinks
itself meritorious is very difficult to encounter, and those who
undertake the task may easily doubt their power to make any
general impression. In our own homes, when suffering prevails
we feel called upon to put all other interests aside, but in the
larger world it will probable be a very long time before people
feel impelled to pause in the pursuit of pleasure at one place be-
cause it is a world of sadness somewhere else.
The point I would like to bring out is not at all the failure of
generosity in the well-disposed; certainly, at the present time, no
one can question the prevalence of much helpful charity. My
object is to indicate not a want of feeling but a want of perception.
In so far as suffering is discerned it receives consideration, but
there are certain causes in the happily-circumstanced which pre-
vent a discernment at all proportionate to the reality. The warm
604
THE OPEN COURT.
atmosphere that surrounds the mind of every man comfortably
situated in life is a natural barrier against any wide and penetrat-
ing realization of the pain far spread over the surface of the
globe, and which is an integral part of the fate of man. It pro-
duces an inclination, this warm atmosphere, to shut out unpleas-
ant reflections, just as one hastens to close a door that admits a
cold draft to a comfortabl'e room. The fact is within the self-
observation of us all. We, willingly give to pity and to charity,
but bevond that we will not go; our mental happiness must be
kept intact — ihe room warm. We will not bare our minds to the
harsh reality of a world of pain, though sometimes, here and
there, a figure may be seen ready for the encounter, generally,
when the question presses, men simply avoid the problem of suf-
fering. It may be better to defer explanations, their avoiding
minds urge; one cannot settle everything at once, and perhaps
these doubts come from the devil; one should trust more; indeed
it will help people most to think man's destiny blissful, whatever
the truth, and if one does recognize the truth no good is done ;
perhaps after all the situation is exaggerated ; philosophy, too, has
answered these questions, and, even without philosophy, one may
well doubt whether a world so beautiful can harbor a sinister
meaning; the manlier way is to trust the beauty of sunsets, the
exaltation of music, and the exquisite inspirations of the human
mind, and wait for another world to show that everything in this
one is for the best.
These are the thoughts the avoiding mind urges, and that
they are simply self-excusing thoughts is revealed by the absence
of any anxiety to examine their contraries. It is never asked
whether deferring explanations may not be dangerous; whether
the situation may not be underestimated; whether the devil does
not tempt to too much trust; whether the solutions of philosophy
are any thing but glosses; whether the beauty of the world can
prevent its famines; whether the manlier part, notwithstanding
our exquisite inspirations, is not to face the truth about things.
These questions are never asked, and yet the thoughts which
prompt them are more unselfish than the others, which are often
mere paltry, self-excusing thoughts, intended to keep our foolish
minds happy.
The reason for discussing this subject must be evident to all.
Only when the suffering in the world is recognized for what it is,
can an adequate beginning be made in treatment. When pleas-
ant, ^elf-excusing views are put aside, a hundred serious minds
will be given to the problem which now consider it but casually,
as on a ship that is finally known to leak all hands go to the
pumps.
To me, indeed, it seems a point of honor that every intel-
lectual worker should give of his ability to this work, and this is
almost the only ethical lesson my mind discerns in the much-
talked-of theory of evolution. Though theological evolutionists
do not allude to the fact, it remains true that the survival of the
fittest is the most brutal method the mind can imagine for
advancing a race of living beings, as it is also, and by a strange,
unnoticed coincidence, absolutely the only method that can be con-
ceived to have arisen in chance without a guiding hand, did one
care to entertain that view. According to this theory, which is
undoubtedly true, a happy life at the present time owes its ex-
istence and its happiness to a process involving the painful failure
of countless innocent lives, born less fit for the struggle than their
contemporaries. Does not the acceptance of a happy life on such
conditions involve a point of honor? I think there are many, and
that there will be more, who need not ask that question of them-
selves twice to find an answer. And with this question and this
answer the real study of human suffering begins.
Xenos Clark.
" Beware of desperate steps — the darkest day,
Live till to-morrow, will have passed away." — Cotvj>er.
IDEALISM AND REALISM.
To the Editors :
Will you tolerate a suggestion or two, rather in the spirit of
inquiry than otherwise, anent the issue between Idealism and
Realism?
It appears to me that much difficulty arises from a failure te
exactly apprehend our own and others' meanings in the use of
several terms constantly employed in the treatment of the sub-
ject. There is a further difficulty that these terms are used with
several more or less different meanings, often during one judg-
ment or inference as well as in the expression thereof. Thus we
allow the boundary line between the / and not / to be drawn,
now' here, now there, and often all at once, as it were, and unper-
ceived; so, also, with the boundary line between those states
of consciousness we term Knowledge and Belief.
Take, for instance, the frequent affirmation, " We know and
can know nothing save the affections of our own consciousness.'
Here we distinguish between the Ego and consciousness, and put
this the object of that. But it ought to be put thus: Present con-
sciousness is alone knowledge. For even ihe present memory
of any past mental experience implies a belief in the true corres-
pondence of the present with the past presentation. The present
remembrance is known immediately the past experience is made
present immediately. Now, if the notion of knowledge is thus
restricted, Idealism is driven to a vanishing point, for present con-
sciousness is simply momentary. Or, if Idealism repudiates the
the restrictions, where can it take a stand without incorporating
belief as an essential constituent of knowledge? This is to me an
important point that I am very solicitous to be enlightened upon,
if any solution exists. For, granting that Knowledge have any
constituent of Belief, I see there no boundary within which we
can enclose the notion of Knowledge save such a one as wrill in-
clude all that body of beliefs which prove impregnable to doubt,
— by ivhich I mean not to include suppostitious doubt, but doubt
really felt. Of course, Subjective Knowledge would differ from
Objective Knowledge as to its mode of derivation, but not in its
essential nature. Realism would stand established if Knowledge
were defined, as above suggested.
Perhaps, however, I only show my superficiality of informa-
tion and reflection.
I may add that, as I conceive them, the issue of Idealism vs.
Realism is quite a different one from that between Idealism and
Materialism.
Francis C. Russell.
BOOK REVIEWS.
Pine and Palm. A Novel by Moncure D. Conivay. New York ;
Henry Holt & Co., 18S7. (Leisure Hour Series), pp. 348.
Price $1.00
The reader who has been accustomed to M. D. Conway's
more serious writings does not take it as at all out of place to find
him in the role of novelists; the pretty touches of fancy, the vivid
bits of word painting, the bright flow of wit, the subtle hints of
unwritten romance contained in his moral teachings, seem to
have prepared us for his " first appearance '' as story-teller. The
book, which deals in a conciliatory spirit with the differences
between the North and South, comes at an opportune time when
efforts are being made in many directions by statesmen, essayists,
novelists, and others to close up the last gap in the " bloody
chasm," which nearly separated the Union, and to weld together
in brotherly love the States once " dissevered, belligerent, and
drenched in fraternal blood." " Pine and Palm," however, seems
properly to belong to an earlier date of such peace-making, and
strikes us as having been written in ante-bellum times, as it deals
THE OPEN COURT.
605
with the issues then before the public. The tone, too, of the
story is that of a younger writer than the M. D. Conway of to-day,
who would no", we surmise, be able to conceive of two such
superlatively virtuous, amiable and noble representatives of the
North and South as the Damon and Pythias of this story — Went-
worth and Stirling, two model Harvard students. Mr. Conway's
own experience as a Virginian, a Harvard graduate, and an anti-
slavery man previous to our civil war, helps to make very
realistic many descriptions of thrilling episodes common at that
period, in which Stephen Foster, Wm. Lloyd Garrison, Wendell
Phillips, Capt. John Brown and others play appropriate parts, in
the serio-comedy of negro camp meetings and of anti-slavery
mee'ings, and the tragic scenes of slave-rescues North, the slave-
marts South, in the early history of "bleeding Kansas" and the
thrilling drama enacted at Harper's Ferry. In one of his South-
ern heroines, the lovely Gisela, we are forcibly reminded of the
romantically true story of those brave Southern workers for
freedom, Sarah and Angelina Grimke\
At no point does Mr. Conway's story drag, even though he
gives us, in its course, sketches of several sermons, anti-slavery
lectures, and transcendental talk. His heroes and heroines,
though rather impossible creations from a commonplace point of
view, are yet very interesting, and ideally satisfactory, while the
story ends, as stories ought to, with the good duly rewarded and
happy, and the rather weak villains either repentant or punished
in a mild and tender-hearted sort of way. Mr. Conway's
kindly treatment of the " bad 'uns " of his story is perhaps a
tribute to the tender-heartedness of the one to whom the volume is
dedicated — his wife; and we like him all the better for such treat-
ment and for — his dedication.
Recollections of a Minister to France, 1S69 — 1877. By
E. B. Washburne, LL. D. With Illustrations. New York:
Charles Scribner's Sons, 1SS7. Two vols. Price $8. For
sale by A. C. McClurg & Co., Chicago.
Two very handsomely bound and printed volumes of some
700 pages are these before us, containing a record of the thrilling
experiences of Hon. E. B. Washburne during a stirring period of
French history, while acting as Envoy Extraordinary and Minis-
ter Plenipotentiary from the United States to France from 1S69
to 1S77, a period embracing two of the most interesting events in
the later history of that country — the Siege of Paris and the rise
and fall of the commune. It is with these events that Mr. Wash-
burne's book principally deals, although he describes, with less
particularity, many other interesting but less historic matters
pertaining to his eight and a half years' sojourn in France. He
writes: " While all the other diplomats of the first-class powers
left Paris at the breaking-out of the insurrection, I deemed it my
duty to remain, as I had not only the interest of our country but
the interests of the Germans to look after." As the representa-
tive of a friendly neutral and powerful nation, Mr. Washburne
had been asked to protect the interests of the Germans in Paris
during the war between the French and Prussians, a position he
found more onerous than he had expected, but which he filled to
the utmost of his ability, though he says, " I had but a faint idea
of what the undertaking was going to involve, for I had not sup-
posed it possible that I should be charged with the care and with
the superintendence of more than thirty thousand people expelled
from their homes on so short a notice. * * * The legation
began to be crowded from day to day by persons desiring pro-
tection, advice, information and assistance." Thus it happened
that he was brought into intimate connection with the leaders of
all sorts, and a participant in many of the events of that time. So
his book becomes an important addition to history, since he wrote
from personal knowledge and recollection. It is written in a
simple, plain, but graphic style, which presents to the reader a
lively and interesting panorama of a dangerous episode.
It adds a melancholy interest to this work that the death of
its author was almost simultaneous with its issuance from the
press.
A very fine portrait of Mr. Washburne graces the front page
of the first volume, while the work is enriched by many pictures
of the leading spirits of those days, such as M. Thiers, Gambetta,
Empress Eugenie, Emperor William, Jules Favre, Marshal
Bazaine, and others; and spirited illustrations of the most stirring
events of that revolutionary period are given.
TIie Shakespearean Drama. A Commentary by Denton y.
Snider. The Tragedies. Boston: Ticknor & Co., 18S7, pp. 41S.
In the midst of the Shakespeare-Bacon-Donnelly sensation,
Professor Snider's book appears very opportunely.
In the preface he queries: "What difference does it make in
the judgment of Shakespeare's work whether he was a Catholic
or Protestant? Whether, indeed he was called Shakespeare, or
by some other name? His book remains the same, and must be
judged as it is; any argument to the contrary implies that our
view of Shakespeare is to be determined by our view of some-
thing else, or of somebody else."
The raison d'etre of Mr. Snider's contribution to the Shakes-
pearean literature is, in his own words, "to show each drama as a
whole, in its thought, organization, and characters; then to group
cognate dramas into a higher Whole by their common fundamen-
tal principles; at last to behold all the dramas of the past as one
Whole — in fine, to sum up Shakespeare. Such a plan, if success-
ful, will unfold the inner meaning as well as the outward struc-
ture of the Shakespearean drama." The author well says: "There
can be no doubt in the statement that the unique and all-sur-
passing greatness of Shakespeare lies in his comprehension of
the ethical order of the world. * * * Men see in him their
highest selves, and hence take him as their greatest exponent."
Why Shakespeare's dramas have been thought most worthy of
this writer's attention is thus explained: "The drama represents
man in action. It exhibits him in the infinite web of his com-
plications, with influences passing out from him, and coming back
to him, and thereby portrays in the shortest space, and in the
most striking manner, the relative worth of human deeds. Nor
does it rest content with the mere external doings of man; on the
contrary, it penetrates his innermost nature, and probes the pro-
foundest depths of his spiritual being. For it unfolds motives,
ends, convictions; and in fact, these internal elements constitute
its most important feature."
Mr. Snider, in this work, further confines himself to a con-
sideration of the trtigic dramas of Shakespeare, impelled thereto
by his belief that "a tragedy is not produced merely by an indis-
crimate slaughter of the characters at the end of the play. There
must be something within the individual which brings him to
destruction ; there must be a principle which fills his breast and
drives him forward to his fate; his death is to spring from his
deed." The tragedies analyzed thus are "Timon of Athens,"
"Romeo and Juliet," "Othello," King Lear," "Macbeth," and
"Hamlet."
The style of this work is pleasing, the commentator's own
thought elevating; and the volume, solid and handsome in its
make-up, will be found a valuable help in the study of Shakes-
peare.
The Right of Property and the Ownership of Land. By
If. T. Harris. (Reprint from the Journal of Social Science.)
Cupples, Hurd & Co., 94 Boylston Street, Boston. Price 25
cents; pp. 40.
Henry George's famous theory is compared in this pamphlet
with actual facts from the best sources, by an impartial scholar,
accustomed to philosophical reasoning. Dr. Harris proves, from
6o6
THE OPEN COURT.
the last national census and other standard authorities, that the
average amount of rent paid by each individual in the United
States for land without buildings, at six per cent, on assessed
valuation, would be, if we were all tenants, only "eight dollars
apiece per year, or 2 1-5 cents per day." Even in Great Britain
and Ireland, rents average only 2^ cents daily for each inhab-
itant; and there the assessed value of land scarcely doubled
between 1S01 and 1882, while that of houses increased more than
sevenfold. In other words, the alleged grievance of payment of
rent for land to individual owners is a mere drop in the bucket.
The common saying, that "The rich are growing richer and
fewer, while the poor are growing poorer and more numerous," is
next proved, not only from British but from American statistics,
to be dangerously false; though Dr. Harris does not consider the
reasons for believing that an exception to the general improve-
ment of the condition of the working classes has recently been
made in the United States by the excessive increase of our tariff.
Neither does he remember how much of the prosperity of skilled
laborers in England, since 1840, has been due to free trade, or he
would not repeat Carlyle's slander of political economy as " the
dismal science," and bestow such undeserved blame on Adam
Smith, Ricardo and Malthus. These defects are slight, however,
compared with the merit either of the arguments already referred
to, or of those showing that factory hands are much better paid in
comparison with other laborers, especially those on farms, than is
generally supposed; that if Henry George's plans were set in
operation, farmers would be crushed, while all who live in cheap
houses would be taxed too heavily; and that " History looks upon
the invention of private property in land as one of the mightiest
steps towards human progress."
The Revue lie Belgique for October opens with a full account
of the Dutch poet Vondel, who vindicated the memory of Barne-
veldt, and furnished to Milton that conception of Satan which is
the grandest feature of Paradise Lost. Another interesting
article tells how a young Frenchman named Fabre gave himself
up, in 1756, to be sent to the galleys in place of his aged father,
who had been arrested for the crime of hearing a Protestant
preach. While toiling among convicts, in hardships which were
embittered by remorse for falsehoods which he had told in order
to save other Huguenots from persecution, he was asked by his
betrothed, whether she ought to listen to a rich man who sought
her hand with the approbation of her family, then oppressed by
poverty. He was disinterested enough to advise her to marry;
but her heart revolted at the last moment, and she remained true
to her lover, who married her on his receiving pardon after eight
years of penal labor. We are also furnished with the plot of a
drama which was founded on these facts, and did much to swell
that tide of popular feeling which finally brought toleration to
French Protestants two hundred years ago, thanks above all
other men to Voltaire.
The Art Amateur for November is more remarkable for the
variety and richness of its illustrations than for its reading
matter. The print in oil colors represents a fine bunch of purple
grapes with stem and leaves. It is very strong and effective in
color, and where the natural object cannot be procured (which is
always much better) gives good material for a study of this most
valuable example of light and shadow. A design for tapestry
painting, "The Sportsman," by R. Arthurs, is in a bold, vigorous
style, well adapted to the subject and the purpose for which it is
intended. The most popular illustrations are, however, the
numerous sketches of cats and kittens, which will delight all
lovers of these household pets. Pleasant stories are told oi
Landseers' method of studying these animals, which
are very difficult to portray well. The Breton peasant
by Jules Bretonne, is earnest and simple, and is a good
specimen of this popular painter's style. A Flemish maiden of
the seventeenth century, is in quite the opposite style, but is very
quaint and pleasing. There are many minor studies and designs
which are very attractive. We turn with interest to the article
called "Art Amateur for iSSS," to see what good things are
promised for the coming year, and find a rich feast is to be set
before the subscribers to this popular art journal. With each
number there will be a color study of landscape, flower, or figure.
Victor Dargon's flower studies will be continued, the flowers
being appropriate to the months in which they are published;
this will give the student an opportunity to compare them with
the natural flowers. Special attention will be given to china
painting, with practical instruction and designs. Ellen Welby's
designs and Edith Scannell's sketches of children in outline, will
be continued. Furniture Decoration, Wood Carving, Church
Needlework, Tapestry Painting, and Photography will have their
appropriate place. Mrs. T. M. Wheeler will contribute a series
of talks on " Embroidery in America." The literary department
will contain art notes and hints, criticisms of books and paint-
ings, and biographies of American and foreign artists. The
monthly visits of this bright periodical are sufficient to keep the
amateur au courant with what is going on in the world of art,
and to refresh and help the student with suggestion and
information.
The first number of the American Journal of Psychology,
edited by G. Stanley Hall, Professor of Psychology and
Pedagogics in the Johns Hopkins University, has appeared, and is to
be published quarterly by N. Murray, Baltimore. The editor
announces that it is his object to record the psychological work
of a scientific character as distinct from a speculative character.
The vast progress made in this department of late years is little
realized, and the field for such a journal is, we believe, very large.
The journal will have three departments : Original contributions
of a scientific character, digests and reviews, and notes, news, brie
mentions, etc. Controversy will be excluded as far as possible.
We doubt if it is possible to debar speculation from such a
magazine, and the first article on " Normal Knee Jerk," by
Lombard, discusses causes which are to some extent speculative.
The numerous tables reminds one of the Smithsonian publications.
There is a golden mean in such matters which it is very difficult
for publishers to strike. We hail this great work as the beginning
ofanewera in American psychology. It reflects largely what
has been piled up (in psychological inquiry into the mind) in
Germany during the last twenty years. It is to be hoped that
the immense amount of work that has been done in German,
French and Italian laboratories will find proper recognition.
The Freidenker- Almanack for 188S is rich, not only in astron-
omical and chronological information, but in proverbs and other
brief quotations, as well as in original articles. There are no less
than twenty-one poems, besides the ten little gems by Hermann
Schuricht, called " Shooting-Stars." Among the other poets are
Otto Soubron and Hugo Andriessen, to the last of whom we also
owe a very interesting account of Francesca da Rimini. Paul
Carus explains "The meaning of Monism." Aristotle's doctrine
of Substance is set forth by Robert Nix. The labor question is
brought forward in "They Will not Learn Anything," by Maximil-
ian Grossman, and in "Socialism and Individualism," by J. Lucas.
We have also part of an address on "Prejudice" by Edward
Schroeter; a satire on conservative apathy, entitled "Nothing
New," by Friedrich Schiinemann Pott; and an instructive sketch
on the history of the Constitution of the United States and its
principal amendments, by C. Hermann Boppe.
The Open Court
A Fortnightly Journal,
Devoted to the Work of Conciliating Religion with Science.
Vol. I. No. 22.
CHICAGO, DECEMBER 22, 18S7.
I Three Dollars per Year.
) Single Copies, 15 els.
THE FOOL IN THE DRAMA.*
BY FRANZ HELBIG.
As in life, so also on the stage, which purports to be
a mirror of life, we frequently find seriousness and jest,
wisdom and folly, side by side and mutually offsetting each
other. The drama had scarcely extricated itself from
its first beginnings, when the fool appeared on the stage.
Folly has its part in Life as well as in Art. Exposed
foolishness is the best friend of reason, for it guards man
against falling into folly.
Although Gottsched, in 1737, induced Caroline Neu-
berin to banish the merry-maker of the German plav,
the " Hans Wurst," from the stage in a solemn auto-da-
fe, folly crept in again in all manner of disguises. This old
German " Hans Wurst," the personified condensation of
folly, was far more than a mere merry-maker. He was,
so to speak, the suppressed popular sentiment, as Robert
Prutz remarks in his lectures on the history of the Ger-
man drama. " The people could not place an independ-
ent drama in opposition to, or even in competition
with, the drama of the clergy, the schoolmen, and the
courts; so it created a dramatic representative, it origi-
nated a mask behind which the popular sentiment, after
it had been driven from every other position, took ref-
uge as behind a last secure intrenchment. It is the
intellectual weapon of wit to which he who cannot van-
quish his powerful adversary with real weapons gladly
resorts. Thus the merry figure of the German " Hans
Wurst " may be regarded as the personification of popu-
lar wit.
Not only Germany, but also other literary nations,
experienced a similar necessity of incarnating the wit in
which the oppressed spirit found relief, in some particu-
lar character. And it is remarkable that all these
national fools derived their names from the favorite
dishes of the various nations. As the German " Brat-
wurst " (sausage) was godfather at the christening of
the German " Hans Wurst," so in the Netherlands he
was called" Pickle-herring" and " Stockfish" (codfish);
in France, "Jean Pottage " (soup); in Italy, " Signor
Maccaroni"; and in England, "Jack Pudding."
•Translated from the German in Wtsterman's Monatshefte for August,
There is a deep significance in this designation. It
is a protest of the confirmed realism of the common
people against the idealism of the educated classes,
against the foreign learned culture and the excessively
refined manners of the higher ranks. As Robert
Prutz very correctly says, "These comic masks invariably
come into existence when the popular sentiment has
suffered a great rupture, a sudden dissension; when, in a
word, the people feels itself estranged of its own accord,
— when it finds itself face to face with a government, a
culture, a literature, in which it has no part, which it
neither knows nor understands, by which, on the con-
trary, it feels itself grieved and oppressed as by some
externally imposed foreign object. The people re-
placed this unreal, visionary world by the real world, in
which, above all, something good to eat can be found.
They contrasted a substantial reality with the incom-
prehensible.
In ancient times, there was a much greater fusion
between idealism and realism; consequently, the ancient
drama did not know this universal typical fool of the
modern world. The merry personages of the old Greek
and Roman drama are not professional fools, but indivi-
dual concrete comic characters. On the other hand, the
German "Hans Wurst" has a definite typical character,
which he retains in all the various guises in which he
appears. He is the spice of all dramatic food. Even
the most serious and most bloody tragedy could not dis-
pense with him; his nauseating, cynical wit and merry
capers incessantly interrupted the majestic progress of
the main action. Lie appears as a braggart of the first
water, who constantly vaunts his courage; but he shows
it only where he knows no danger to exist. No matter how
willing he may be to give occasion for a quarrel or a
fight, if the affair becomes too serious he very seasonably
takes to his heels. And so the fool goes through life
unscathed, while his master, who far surpasses him in
mind and culture, succumbs to its trials. By his predi-
lection for good meals and high fees he parodies his
master's ideal endeavors, and by his chronic appetite he
interrupts the sublime course of the former's thought.
If he could only have his sausage, the old "Hans Wurst"
was indifferent to everything else. To him, eating and
6o8
THE OPEN COURT.
drinking are the essentials, because they hold body and
soul together.
To the average man, everything intangible remains
incomprehensible. Our "Hans Wurst" deems himself
happy for not having studied ; because, if he had, he
could no longer be merry. He supplies by a peculiar
natural cunning what he lacks in culture and knowledge.
Nor does he at times hesitate to further his object by pre-
varication and deception. He is married, but his wed-
lock is nothing but an endless round of drubbings and
scoldings; at the same time he always is the henpecked
victim of his chiding better-half. He is very good-natured,
and if necessary has a heart full of compassion ; then, like a
genuine humorist, he laughs through his tears. And
thus it frequently happens that he lectures his master on
account of his bad behavior.
In this character-study we evidently encounter
elements of the national character. In its "Hans Wurst,"
the people apparently saw its own beloved Ego. In
those times the great lords retained paid fools, whose
duty it was, from time to time, to tell them the truth
and to ridicule them so as to guard them against folly.
The nobles and the rich could indulge in such a luxury;
but for the poor people it was much too expensive. So
they went to the theatre, there to meet folly face to face.
Thus the German " Hans Wurst " was the fool for all —
the people's fool.
When " Hans Wurst " was banished from Germany,
the people»very unwillingly took leave of their beloved
fool. Nor was it its own initiative, but the influence of
the schoolmen, represented by Gottsched, that brought
on the judgment prepared for him by Caroline Neuberin.
For the latter the result was fatal; her performances
were no longer attended, and she suffered severe financial
embarassment. Nevertheless, the good "Hans Wurst"
had outlived himself. The generalization of culture,
and the regeneration of aesthetic feeling arising there-
from, fettered him in his grave. After having vanished
from the stage he flourished only in the puppet show,
where, even at the present day, he delights the hearts
of our children. On the living stage he appears only in
the form of " Leporello."
The "Hans Wurst" comedy continued longest as an
independent comedy, which had gradually diverged
from the serious drama, in the Vienna theatres; here,
late in the eighteenth century, Stranitzky, Prehauser,
and his successor, Herr von Kurz (called Bernardon),
were famous impersonators of this role.
Subsequently, however, the representation of folly
was not concentrated in a single person, but it was
individualized in the most manifold ramifications.
This had partially taken place already in Shakespeare.
The great master of individualizing characteristics was
averse to concentrating all humor in a single personage.
In his plays we find nothing of the real typical " Hans
Wurst," with his red jacket and yellow trunk-hose. He
rather clothed his " Hans Wurst" in doublet and boots,
and called him Sir John Falstaff.
Sir John has a great family resemblance to the
German popular fool. Only the character is exag-
gerated so as to be grotesque, and broadened by truly
genial traits. Sir John, also, is impelled by the lowest
instincts, — feasting and carousing are his favorite achieve-
ments. In spite of his age and his immense paunch, he
is as faint-hearted and timid as a child; nevertheless he
abuses the others by calling them arrant cowards. Thus
he vaunts heroic deeds which he has never committed,
and which in his bragging mouth grow in proportion to
the number of those who believe them. He, the worst
moralist, lectures Prince Henry, and offers himself as a
mirror of the noblest virtue. When the Lord Chief-
Justice reproaches him for having misled the young
Prince, he asserts that it is himself who has been misled.
The lie is his element, in which he is as much at home
as a fish in water. He has notched his sword with his
dagger to prove that he had fought valiantly. To
escape being stabbed in the combat, he lies down on the
ground in the very beginning of it, and pretends to be
dead. To obtain the credit of Mistress Quickly, he
gives her to understand that he has lost a seal-ring
worth forty mark; but the ring was only copper and
scarcely worth eight pence. When he is convicted of
lying, he gets out of his dilemma by a jest or another
lie. When Prince Henry reproves him for his coward-
ice, he answers: "Instinct is a great matter; I was now
a coward on instinct." When the Prince, his protector,
has become King, and contemptuously discards the
white-haired fool and jester, " so surfeit-swelled, so old
and so profane," and banishes him from his company,
the lying hero loses his footing, and the entire fraudulent
existence collapses. It is true, he endeavors to pursuade
Shallow, to whom he has vouchsafed his most gracious
protection, that the King must seem thus to the world;
that what he had heard was but a color. But already
he perceives that his lie is no longer believed. " A
color that I fear you will die in, Sir John," answers
Shallow. To which Falstaff simply replies: "Fear no
colors; go with me to dinner." Thus with the lie, his
wit, on which it depended, also failed him. "Hence-
forth he renounces both sack and women." He even
entertains holy thoughts, something like a fear of the
fires of Hell. The greatest of lying fools now becomes
tedious and prosaic.
Shakespeare also introduces that variety of retained
professional fools who make their living by it, and who
appear in the company of his great heroes. At bottom,
these fools, although so designated, are anything but
fools; they are, on the contrary, very clever fellows who
make it their business to expose the folly of the wise.
Their actions and their character cannot be better
THE OPEN COURT.
Cog
described than in the words of Viola in " Twelfth
Night," where she says of Olivia's clown —
" This fellow is wise enough to play the fool;
And to do that well craves a kind of wit :
He must observe their mood on whom he jests,
The quality of persons, and the time,
And, like the haggard, check at every feather
That comes before his eye. This is a practice
As full of labor as a wise man's art :
For folly that he wisely shows is fit;
But wise men, folly-fall'n, quite taint their wit."
These so-called fools carry on a merry game of
banter and repartee. They are sophists and word-cor-
rupters. " I am indeed not her fool, but her corrupter
of words," says Olivia's clown. In " All's Well that
Ends Well," the clown to the Countess Roussilon
declares himself capable of giving her an answer fit for
all questions, and answers her repeatedly with an " O
Lord, sir!" Again, Olivia's clown proves to her that
she is a fool for mourning for her brother. " I think his
soul is in hell, Madonna," says the fool drily. " I know
his soul is in heaven, fool," angrily replies the countess.
" The more fool, Madonna, to mourn for your brother's
soul being in heaven," concludes the fool. Malvolio in
" Twelfth Night," is therefore not unjustified in calling
" these wise men, that crow so at these set kind of fools,
no better than the fool's zanies."
The most prominent figure in this chorus of fools is
the fool of King Lear. With terrible iron}' he chastises
the King for his folly in rendering himself poor and
subject to the mercy of his daughters. With inexorable
bitterness he comments upon the incongruity of these
actions. " Sirrah, you were best take my cox-comb,"
he tauntingly says; and when the King wanders about
poor and forsaken, he increases this taunt to the ut-
most: " Thou art an O without a figure: I am better
than thou art now. I am a fool, thou art nothing."
The terrible weight of the fool's logic contributes
not a little toward the King's madness; and the scene
in which the poet has the three fools meet on the
heath is one of the utmost pathos: King Lear, who
has actually gone mad, the real fool; — Edgar, Glouces-
ter's son, who assumes madness, the feigned fool; and
the titular fool, who practises folly as a profession, and
who of all three speaks and acts most rationally. .
The Shakespearean fool attained his highest develop-
ment in the character of Goethe's Mephistopheles. He
also, according to Faust, is " a liar and a sophist." He
also comments upon the endeavors and actions of his
lord and master, who has been possessed by conceit and
a desire for wisdom. The ironic, sarcastic manner of
this comment, not only toward Faust, but also toward
others, — for instance, the pupil, the students in Auer-
bach's cellar, Madam Martha — is quite in the vein of the
Shakespearean fool. These also display somewhat of
"the Spirit that Denies." Thus, he mocks the remorse-
ful and tortured Faust: "Already we are at the end of
our knowledge where you poor mortals lose your
senses."
In the old farces and carnival plays, on the other
hand, the Devil always appears as the deceived and
deluded fool, as the " aper of God," as the stupid devil
who generally at the last moment is defrauded of the
hoped-for prize by man's cunning. Goethe, evidently
imitating this mediaeval conception, has Mephistophele ;
succumb to a similar fate in the denouement of his
superb poem. He who has so long fooled Faust and
the world, is now in his turn fooled by heaven, which
takes advantage of his being enamoured of the beautiful
angel, to capture Faust's soul, the pledge of his wager.
{To be continued?)
THE SPECIFIC ENERGIES OF THE NERVOUS
SYSTEM.*
BY DR. EWAID HERING.
Johannes M tiller, the greatest physiologist of our
century, in his dissertations on the senses, established a
theory which is well known as "the theory of the spe-
cific energies of the sensory nerves. " I cannot here
recapitulate his doctrine in his own perspicuous ex-
pressions, which are so worded as to be intelligible only
to a specialist. But a few sentences will suffice to ex-
plain the quintessence of his theory to any one whose
occupation prevents him from bestowing more than that
kindly interest upon physiology which this most fasci-
nating science awakens in the mind of every educated
man.
From the eye and from the ear, from the mucous
membranes of the organs of taste and of smell, and from
the skin of the whole body — viz. the organ of touch and
temperature — proceed thousands of most delicate nerve
fibres. Gradually uniting, they coalesce into steadily
enlarging bundles, which either lead directly to the brain,
or are indirectly connected with it by the spinal cord.
Through these nerve fibres the sensory organs com-
municate with the brain, that most wonderful living
structure which is both the origin and the product of
our consciousness.
When a vibration of ether irritates the nervous mem-
brane of our eye (the retina), a process ensues, the real
nature of which we do not yet understand. We only
know that the irritation is at once transmitted to the
* Prof. Ewald Hering delivered his lecture on "The Specific Energies of
the Nervous System" on some festival occasion. It was published in the
Lotos, and he sent a copy of it with corrections in his own hand, to Mr. Hegeler,
in order to have it translated and published in The Oten Court.
The essay enlarges and justifies Johannes Muiler's theory of the specific
energies of nerves. Professor Hering makes a broader application of this theory,
by showing; that it is a special and physiological aspect of a general biolo ic.il
law, and he justifies it by thus basing it on the broader foundation of a more
general truth. Professor Hering intended the essay to be intelligible to the
educated public at large, and couched his ideas, so far as was possible, in
popular language.
The importance of the subject need not be commented upon.
Editor.
6io
THE OPEN COURT.
fibres of the optic nerve, and in its further progress acts
upon those cerebral parts into which the optic nerve
enters. As the life of these brain structures is in close
connection with our consciousness, it happens that when
a ray of light enters the eye, it causes an irritation of
the nervous fibres and of the cerebral cells; and thus we
become conscious of the sensations of light and of color.
If, now, these same rays, which, when entering the
eye, produced the sensation of light, fall upon the skin of
the hand, and there irritate the delicate rootlets of the sen-
sory nerves, this irritation is transmitted through the
nerves and the spinal cord to the brain, and, instead of
light we are conscious of warmth. How is it that the
identical external agent in one case produces light, and
in the other warmth ?
Moreover, the sensation of light can be produced in
a perfectly dark room by irritating the nerves of the eye
by an electric current; and if we pass the electric cur-
rent through the auditory nerve, we hear sounds and
noises, though the deepest silence surround us. If we
apply the "current to the nerves of the skin, we experi-
ence the sensation of heat or cold, although not in con-
tact with any cold or warm object. And if, by the very
same current, we excite the nerves of the tongue, gusta-
tory sensations are produced. Accordingly, the nervous
apparatus of each sensory organ responds to the same
irritation with different sensations. And again we ask:
How does precisely the same cause produce such a
variety of effects?
Even by the aid of a microscope the anatomist has
not been able to discover any essential difference between
the various sensory nerves. For instance, that part of
the brain which produces the visual sensations does not,
in its ultimate structure, vary noticeably from those
cerebral regions which produce sensations of sound or
temperature. But (and this is the answer to the problem
in question) this sameness of form is not accompanied
by a sameness of nature. The diverse structures of the
nervous system, the nerve cells and the nerve fibres, are
internally different in spite of all external similarity, and
the diversity of the sensations produced is a manifesta-
tion of such difference.
It is the nature of the nervous substance in the visual
organ to produce sensations of light, and only such. It
is the bell which sounds, and not its tongue; and simi-
larly it is not the vibration of ether, but the nerve, that
produces light. No matter whether it be a ray of light,
— whether it be pressure or a blow upon the eye, an
electric current, or any irritation whatever, — that affects
the nervous apparatus, it invariably manifests itself as
light or color. In the same way, we become conscious
of the irritations of the auditory organ in the form of
sound or noise, no matter what their cause, which may
be aerial vibrations or any morbid irritation of the inner
ear, or an orgasm of the blood.
Johannes Muller named the inherent function of
certain nerves to communicate certain sensations, which
could not be produced otherwise, to our consciousness,
the "specific energy " of those nerves. More than half
a century has elapsed since this great physiologist devel-
oped his theory in grand and magnificent proportions;
and thus, in scientific terms, he formulated an idea, the
original germ of which lies buried in the distant past as
far back as Aristotle. Johannes Midler's doctrines were
re-echoed in innumerable writings, but it cannot be said
that the seed he sowed fell upon fertile soil, or that it
was developed in any essential feature. A few par-
tially successful attempts were made to promote Muller's
theory of the sensations of color and of sound; but, aside
from that, his doctrine bore little fruit. On the contrary
it was suppressed, even by Johannes Muller's own
disciples. It again became customary to regard all
nerve fibres as having essentially the same nature, and to
suppose that the same kind of irritation is transmitted in
all fibres of the various nerves. The question as to why
the nerves of the different sensory organs produce such
various sensations was either entirely abandoned, or it was
deemed sufficient to say that the cause should be sought
in the brain, although the same causes which were sup-
posed to prove that all nerve fibres are of the same
nature, would hold good also in the case of the cerebral
cells and fibres. Even in some of the numerous writ-
ings of the present day, we meet with authors who,
confounding philosophy and physiology, declare that
the theory of the specific energies is one of the great
aberrations of physiology.
In consideration of this fact, permit me, as an
enthusiastic follower, although no personal disciple, of the
great scientist, to disclose and reveal the deep significance
of the great master's doctrine, and to show that it is the
application of a principle which has been or surely will
be accepted in other provinces of biology.-
The animal kingdom comprises an inexhaustible
multiplicity of form, and to a layman who is not initiated
into the science of biology it seems almost incredible
that all these creatures, so manifoldly differing in their
forms and habits, should, as germs in the first stage of
their development, be so homomorphous! As a rule,
even the most experienced eye, with the assistance of
every means of scientific analysis, would not be able to
recognize in a germ the animal into which it is going to
develop. The fish as well as the bird, and the insect as
well as man, so far as we can judge according to external
appearance, all begin their lives as most simple and
microscopically small, spheroidal structures. Nor does
this uniformity exist only for the eye; for chemical
analysis resolves them all into the same ultimate
elements.
We ask how is it possible that totally different forms
can develop from apparently like germs, and the answer
THE OPEN COURT.
611
is, that this resemblance of the germs is merely external.
By the aid of even the most powerful microscopes, we
barely discern only the roughest outlines of their
structures.
In the heavens, whole systems of suns appear only
as nebulae, which even the most powerful telescopes
cannot resolve into their single stars. As observation is
impossible, we can only surmise their structure. Simi-
larly the ultimate and most delicate frameworks in the
architecture of the living substance of germs is with-
drawn from the observation of even the most minute
research. Could we approach nearer and nearer to one
of these nebula;, one star after the other would emerge
from the apparently homogeneous mass; we would see
planets revolving around their suns, and satellites about
the planets. Thus, if with our corporeal or intellectual
eye we could penetrate into the minutest internal
structure of the substance of germs — if we could compre-
hend the arrangement and motion of the molecules and
atoms — we would discover that the living germ substance
of each animal species has its specific properties, and the
substance of each single germ has its individual proper-
ties on account of which, in a further evolution, a special
and peculiar type must mechanically develop.
Whether these internal variations of the germs are
chemical or physical, is, at present, immaterial; for the
physical properties of a substance are conditioned by
cheir chemical qualities, and when we inquire into the
molecular and atomic structure of a substance, the divid-
ing line between the domains of chemistry and physics
disappears entirely. We cannot, in the immediate future,
however, hope to find a chemical formula for the indi-
vidual germ substances. To reveal the delicate secret of
living matter by the comparatively crude methods of
chemistry, would be like trying to explain the mechan-
ism of a watch by melting it in a crucible, and examining
the molten mass with regard to its ingredients.
As we can not at present solve the problem of
internal variation of the externally similar germ
substances, we must be satisfied with the statement that
the germs of each animal species possess an inherent
and innate faculty — viz., a specific energy, which directs
its developments in a manner characteristic to this
animal and to no other. Again, each single germ
possesses an individual energy which, in addition to the
normal features of its species, secures an individual
character to its future development.
Let us now approach our problem from another side.
When the naked eye is not able to discern the more
minute organization and delicate structure of an
organism, the anatomist employs the microscope, and
a new world of discernible facts is revealed to him.
The apparently homogeneous form dissolves into
innumerable distinct structures; millions of the minutest
separately-existing being-, different in shape and internal
structure, compose a systematically arranged aggregate,
thus forming the diverse organs; and these beings, in
spite of the complicated interdependence, lead quite
separate lives, for each single being is an animated
centre of activity. The human body does not receive
the impulse of life like a machine from one point, but
each single atom of the different organs bears its
vitalizing power in itself. The current of life does not
emanate from one special part of the body, but all its
minutest parts are themselves sources of life. The
architecture of the human body which consists of these
elementary organisms, or cells, as they are called, has
often been explained. The harmonious interaction and the
division of labor among these innumerable particles has
been compared to the judiciously adapted co-operation of
the individual members in a well regulated community.
As in such a community, so also in the human organism, a
special kind of work is consigned to each group of
individuals; and, according to the various functions, the
elementary organisms are differently formed; but those
elements which possess the properly so-called vital power,
in every respect exhibit the most striking resemblance,
although it may be hidden by and interwoven with vari-
ous less important solid or fluid ingredients.
In all living cells and fibres of the various organs we
always encounter the same colorless, almost fluid, soft,
easily changeable substance in the shape of most delicate
threads, nets or drops. It is the properly vital element of
the cell. There the enigma of life lies buried, for it is
the moving and creating power in the elementary organ-
ism. It produces the contraction of muscular fibres, and
transmits the irritation in the nerve fibre;// builds up the
solid and strong mass of the supporting bone, and the
tough fibre of the tendon. 7/ shapes the feathers of the
bird, the scales of the fish and horns of the stag.
Yet, it is everywhere apparently the same, and if it
is isolated from its proper sphere and surroundings, and
considered by itself, the most experienced eye cannot
tell which of the different functions was performed by it.
Again we ask, how is it possible that apparently
equal causes produce such different effects. And here
no one will doubt that in spite of external similarity the
living substance in the cells of the individual organs is
internally different ; and a difference of function neces-
sarily results from this difference of internal structure.
It is an innate function. The specific energy of the living
substance in the liver produces bile as the specific energy
of the root of a hair builds up the horny mass of hair.
All the innumerable elementary beings or cells of an
organism are the offspring of one single germ cell in
which the development commenced. Bv division the
first cell was split in two. Although both were inti-
mately connected with each other, they were neverthe-
less to a certain extent independent cell'. These
two cells divided again, and formed other cells,
6l2
THE OPEN COURT.
and so on. Thus by a constantly renewed formation
of more living substance the number of the elemen-
tary structures increases in an almost inexhaustible
multiplicity. But in the progress of multiplication also
form and arrangement of the cells are changed. They
separate into divers homogeneous groups, each of which
differs from the others in character in so far as it per-
forms a special function. The living substance is specialized
in the process of development according to its function
and destination. All the united different specific ener-
gies which later on will develop to full life separately
in its descendants, lie concealed, although only potentially,
in the substance of a germ.
In the light of these considerations the diversity of
function in the nervous substance can no longer surprise
us. Its external similarity prevents us from considering
it as internally different, and from claiming for it specific
energies according to the doctrine of Johannes Muller.
(To be concluded!)
FOLK-LORE STUDIES.
BY I . J. VAXCE.
/.
In a gossipy sketch of "Washington Irving at Home,"
in the May Century, Mr. Clarence Bull notes that
Irving has been rightly called the last of the my-
thologists. Thus, to show how even educated people
regarded the inimitable " Legend of Sleepy Hollow,"
and the happy stories of Diedrich Knickerbocker, Mr.
Bull quotes the criticism of a well-known scholar of
Dutch ancestry, who thought perhaps that he was
passing an awful sentence on the genial author of the
Sketch Book, when he said that it was painful to see a
mind like Irving's " wasting the riches of its fancy on
an ungrateful theme." Would that Irving had squand-
ered a still larger portion of his mental endowment and
inheritance on this ungrateful theme, — on this Folk-Lore !
The truth is, that Irving was the last of the mytholo-
gists because mythology at that time did not pay; it
was an ungrateful theme because it found no appreciative
audience or readers.
It is hardly necessary to say that this attitude toward
the rich stores of a people's legends and romances has
quite disappeared. Indeed, some enthusiastic students
have not hesitated to argue that the Folk-Lore of a people
is of more importance in the history of progress — Cul-
ture-History, as the Germans well term it — than the
Court or Epsom. At all events, the legendary lore and
popular tales, which still survive among our simple-
minded folk, are to-day the most striking witnesses of
the evolution of culture from those low grades of human
thought and feeling that characterize primitive and
uncivilized communities.
Now, about the time that Washington Irving was
wasting so much time with the simple legends of the
Dutch along the Hudson, a German scholar, Jacob Grimm
by name, was wasting many valuable years in collecting
childish legends and popular tales so dearly treasured by
rude and uncultivated German peasants. From that
day until this, the by-ways and hedges of all Europe
have been more or less ransacked by keen-eyed and
inquiring disciples of Grimm, eagerly taking down the
marvelous stories as they fell from the lips of the
peasantry. What was thus taken down, not only found
its way in print, but found thousands of readers. And
now the lettered were willing to sit at the feet of the
unlettered. Folk-Lore societies were quickly established
for the purpose of collecting and preserving these fanci-
ful legends, and its members are now numbered by the
hundreds. But above all, when scholars came to put the
popular stories from all over the globe side by side, a
most astonishing similarity was at once observed. It
seemed impossible that the Hindus and Germans, the
Greeks and Romans, should have borrowed their tradi-
tionary lore after they had separated and settled thou-
sands of miles apart. There was — there could be — but
one obvious explanation, and that was, of course, that the
framework of the story or legend came from a common
source. Thus a new science was born, and christened
Comparative Mythology. Together with comparative
philology, it established the kinship of that branch of
the human race known as Aryan.
The question now is, what have our American students
of Folk-Lore done toward contributing their share to the
History of Culture? The answer is brief, but unsatis-
factory: With the exception of some Indian legends
(often colored by the poetical white man), and a few negro
tales, our scholars have done very little toward gathering
materials for the comparative study of Folk-Lore. The
result is, that our students of Folk-Lore have been obliged
to seek foreign fields. Thus, Professor John Fiske, in
his " Myths and Myth-makers," and Professor Crane, of
Cornell, in his " Italian Popular Tales," have shown us
what American students could do, if only the materials
for American Folk- Lore studies were forthcoming.
Confining, then, the subject to America, it may be
asked, where shall we look for the materials of such a
study ? — that is to say : Where are we able to find in
this country those items of superstition or traditionary
lore which make up the body of a people's Folk-Lore?
Obviously, there are two or three classes of native
Americans among whom we may look for striking cases
of intellectual survival. In the first place, the North
American Indians have furnished more or less of a
great mass of popular legends, and the student must
learn to distinguish between what is true and what is
false. Then, the Southern negroes, as recent study
leads us to believe, will ako contribute their full share
of stories to the comparative student of Folk-Lore. Then,
again, there are one or two other sources, such as the
THE OPEN COURT.
613
superstitions current among the French Canadians, and
the fables such as the late Professor Hartt and Mr.
Smith have collected among the Indian tribes on the
Amazon. There may be still other sources, but they
need 1 ot be enumerated at this time.
Without going further, therefore, we believe that
the popular traditions or legends of Indians, Negroes,
and Canadians alone form rich stores for the student of
American Folk-Lore. All the conditions necessary for the
development of Folk-Lore are found among the above-
named folk. These conditions may be broadly divided
into two classes: (1) Those which are due to physical
phenomena or causes, and (2) those which spring from
ignorance, and thus lead men to explain natural causes
by supernatural agencies.
Thus, under the first condition we ha'/e all those popu-
lar tales or traditions which embody usually the sum
total of a rude or primitive folk's knowledge of the out-
ward world. There is hardly an object, animate or
inanimate, which is not used or made to play a part in
these popular stories. Under what Mr. Buckle has
called the " Aspects of Nature," the Piimitive Aryans
had a crowd of myths which were not a whit different
from our modern popular tales. The difference between
Folk-Lore and Mythology is simply one of degree, not
of kind. As the Rev. »Sir George Cox well says,
"Folk-Lore, in short, is perpetually running into myth-
ology."— {Introduction to Mythology, etc., p. v.)
Under the second condition we have a host of popu-
lar stories which are due to popular ignorance. So long
as natural laws remain unknown, anything like a rational
explanation of strange and wonderful phenomena will be
wholly out of the question. " People perfectly ignorant
of physical laws," says Mr. Buckle, " will refer to super-
natural causes all the phenomena, by which they are sur-
rounded."— (History of Civilization, vol. 1, p. 265.)
Although, happily, under the influence of physical
science and education, many of the irrational supersti-
tions of the past have vanished, never to bother us more,
yet many items of superstition still linger on in remote
districts, and these the student of Folk-Lore must indus-
triously track out and jealously preserve. As we have
said, there are still rich stores of popular tales, survivals
of which may still be found among the Indians, the
Negroes, and the Canadians. Fortunately, many of
these traditions have already been gathered, but they
have, so far, been turned to but little account.
We shall briefly try to point out the uses to which
the mass of material thus gathered might be put; for,
as Mr. E. B. Tylor argues, the use of Folk-Lore de-
pends mainly on the answering of the following ques
tion: " When similiar arts, beliefs, or legends are found
in several distant regions, among peoples not known
to be of the same stock, how is this similarity to be
accounted for?"
//.
In attempting to account for similar beliefs or legends
found current among distant peoples not known to be
related, the student of Folk-Lore is very apt to be led
into a labyrinth of inconsistencies. He will perhaps run
across similarities so striking, so ingenious, or so circum-
stantial, that straightway he concludes that there is some
historical connection or relation between the folk among
whom such similarities are found prevailing. He draws
conclusions which, though acute and suggestive, are not
warranted by sound methods of interpretation and of com-
parative Folk-Lore.
There are two methods of studying American Folk-
Lore. One considers its origin, and the other is strictly
a work of comparison and analysis. The first method
is manifestly important in establishing the kinship of
distant peoples; the second shows the individuality of
each cultus and the workings of the primitive mind
either under similar or dissimilar conditions. Hence,
the question, how American Folk-Lore was manufac-
tured is, in our present brief survey, less pertinent than
the inquiry as to how it compares with that of the rest
of the world. We must, in a measure, classify the
crowd of folk-tales which have come up independently
and those which may have a common origin.
Major J. W. Powell, of the Bureau of Ethnology, in
his Third Report (LXVI.) has very well pointed out
that, independent similarities may be ( 1) entirely adven-
titious or (2) may be due to concausation. That simi-
larities of a common origin may be due (1) to cognation
and (2) to acculturation — that is, to imitation. An
example or two may perhaps show the above distinctions
in a clearer light.
The resemblances between the stories relating to
different natural phenomena, for example, are not
evidences that such stories have come from a common
source. Some North American Indian tribes believe
that the winds are the breathings of mythic animals.
This story is found scattered all over the world. Other
Indian tribes have legends about a gigantic bird, the
flapping of whose wings causes thunder. This legend,
found among the Tlinkit and Innuit tribes of Alaska, in
the New World, was also current among several people
of the Old World. Manifestly, the presumption is that
such tales are independent, and are due to concausation.
Again, very many savage tribes have explanations of
the rain surprisingly similar even in minute details.
Thus, in the falling rain, both the Greek and the Savage
saw the dropping tears shed by a tender-hearted deity,
while the electric flash, like the eyes of a Homeric hero,
to them sent forth the dreadful lightnings of an angry
God. Ellis in his Polynesian Researches noted the same
tale among the Tabitians, who say:
"Thickly fall the small rain on the face of the sea.
They are not drops of rain, but they are tears of Oro."
614
THE OPEN COURT.
The plain truth is, that such lore is concausedy and
has been developed independently.
A comparison of a few well-known American
legends with their analogues in the Old World may also
serve to strengthen the above argument in another way
I venture to think that we shall find that popular stories
are more widely diffused than most persons are inclined
to believe.
We may take the Legend of Sleepy Hollow. Who
will forget the school-master, Icabod Crane! How
many of us smile at the fearful race between Icabod and
the headless horseman ! How vivid the scene where
Icabod gallops over the bridge of the Pocantico, scared
out of his wits, and the horseman clattering just at his
heels! This story has become part and parcel of our
native lore. But the frame-work of the story is
found in the German tale of the peasants pursued by the
Wild Huntsman, — our Heme the Hunter. The materials
of course are used differently; in one case the scenery
and local coloring belong to the Catskill Mountains»
and in the other, the descriptions and events are all
applicable to the Hartz Mountains. In the German
tale the Heljiiger (hell-hunter) hunts in the clouds all
the year round except the twelve nights between
Christmas and Twelfth-night. During this time he
hunts on earth, and woe to anyone who meets him in
the woods or leaves his door open during the night for
the huntsman's dogs to run in! That unfortunate person
will meet with great trouble.
We may take next, the familiar legend of Rip Van
Winkle. There has .been a persistent effort on the part
of some students to make this out a sun myth; others,
misled by Washington Irving's note to the tale that it
was "suggested by a little German superstition about
the Emperor Frederick Rothbart and the Kyff-
hauser Mountain;" others, as a well-known English
author, have regarded the legend as a purely autochtho-
nous myth. Indeed, the simple and very charming way
in which Irving has tolci about Rip's sleep is apt to
throw one off of the right scent. Witness, when Rip
woke up, "he looked around, but he could see nothing
but a crow winging its solitary flight across the moun-
tain." Now, it is this home- like and artistic touch that
gives the legend its verisimilitude, and its native flavor.
Perhaps nearest allied to the Catskill legend is the Ger-
man story of Peter Klaus, a goat-herd. One day Peter
was accosted by a stranger, who beckoned him to come
along. He was in this way led to a deep dell, where he
found twelve courtly knights playing at skittles. Not
a word was uttered, though a can of wine was offered
to Klaus, who drank his fill. Thereupon he fell into a
deep sleep, and when he awoke he found himself where
his goats were accustomed to feed, but rubbing his eyes
again and again he failed to see them. On descending
to the place where the village lay, he found everything
changed ; his old friends were dead ; his old acquaintances
had disappeared, while he himself was alone and totally
forgotten. In truth he had been asleep for twenty
years.
In the Scotch story of Tom-na-Hurich — the Hill of
the Fairies — we have another version of the Catskill
Mountain legend. It is the story of the two fiddlers of
Strathspey. The two fiddlers, one Christmas season, ar-
rived at Inverness, and there sought to hire out to such
as would need their services. Shortly after their ar-
rival a gray-haired old man called upon them, and
offered them a good sum of money if they would play
for him just out of the town. They readily agreed, and
followed him to what looked like a shed, and they
noticed that they went through a long vestibule which
led into the hill. They played all through the long
night, and saw such dancing as they had never before or
since in their lives. In the wee sma' hours of the morn-
ing they were dismissed with additional pay. Again
they noticed, as they took their leave, that they went out
of the hill. The sleepy fiddlers soon made their way to
town, onlv to find everything and everybody changed;
the houses and streets had a strange look; while the
towns-people had no recollection of their Christmas
visit. At last one man said : "You are the two men who
lodged with my grandfather, and whom Thomas the
Rimer decoyed into the Tom-na Hurich. Your
friends were greatly alarmed at the time; but that is a
hundred years ago." The story ends rather peculiarly.
The fiddlers went to church that day, and when the first
words of Bible were read, they vanished into thin dust.
We may take, further, the story of the Rabbi Honi,
or Chone Hamagel. The main incidents of this story
are given with some detail in the Talmud. According
to this version the Rabbi was a kind of misanthrope and
skeptic combined. He would take long walks by
himself, and argue and re-argue to great problems of
existence. "What is life? What is life?" he would
ask time and time again. "It is like a fleeting shadow,"
— and that is all the conclusion he could come to. One
day he saw an old gray-haired man planting the St.
John's bread, or carob-tree. The Rabbi Honi gently
hinted to the old man that it was folly for him to waste
his short time and energy in planting a tree whose fruit
would only come in seventy years. " Dost thou hope
to live so long? " Said the old man: " I plant this tree
not for myself. In my youth I gathered fruit from the
trees planted by my grandfathers; now would I provide
for the happiness of my descendants." Thus a new
train of thought quickly arose in Honi's mind; thus a
new set of questions sprang up to perplex him. He
could not satisfy his own doubts. Wearied by his
walk and troubled by his thoughts, the Rabbi falls
into a quiet sleep on a little hill of ground. He
sleeps on and on — for seventy years. He wakes up;
THE OPEN COURT.
615
he rubs his eyes; he gets up and wends his way home-
ward. On his way he sees a great carob-tree flourishing
where yesterday he saw the old man planting a slender
twig. He asks a boy, " Who planted this tree?" and is
told that it was planted by his grandfather. Then Honi
knew that he had slept seventy years. When he comes
to his native city, behold ! the streets, the houses, the
people, are all strange. Even his own relatives have
forgotten him; but they listen to his wondrous tale, and
give him a home. The legend is manifestly fitted to the
Semitic cast of mind, and its motif betrays the workings
of a deeply religious sentiment.
The story of Frederich dcr Rothbart, alluded to by
Irving, has very little in common with the Rip Van
Winkle legend. The Emperor sleeps under the
Rabensping (Raven's Hill) with his armored knights
around him, and ready to come forth at Germany's hour
of need. The legend runs that a shepherd by accident
came upon the scene, and woke the Emperor from his
long slumber. "Are the ravens still flying round the
hill?" Frederich inquired. "Yes." "Then I must sleep
another hundred years."
I venture to think that the Catskill legend of Rip
Van Winkle, together with its different analogues in the
Old World, are only variants of two or three very strik-
ing incidents. These incidents are: (1) the delusion or
enticement; (2) the retreat to a hill; (3) the long sleep.
In regard to the first, we see that Rip Van Winkle
was deluded by the love of whiskey, Peter Klaus by the
love of wine, and the two fiddlers of Strathspey were
enticed by their love of money. In the Talmud version
the Rabbi read that,
" When the Lord turned again the captivity of Zion,
We were then like men that dream."
Thus, from this the Rabbi becomes the dupe of his
"all-subtilizing intellect."
In another large class of stories we have an account of
men who are enticed by the love of beauty. Wagner's
well-known opera of Tannhaiiser is founded on this
version of the legend. In the case of Tannhaiiser the
Queen entices him into the Horselberg, and there keeps
him, a not unwilling captive. Unfortunately with the
native tale there has been mixed a good deal of Chris-
tian sentiment and rubbish. Again, it is the Faery
Queen that entices Thomas the Rhymer into the Ercil-
doune. At the end of seven years he is allowed to
return to the earth, on the agreement that he will go
back whenever a summons should come. One day a
hart and a hind were seen moving up the street, and
Thomas, who followed them into the woods and up to
the down, was never seen afterward.
In these two tales we have a hill, berg, or down, into
which men are enticed. In each the framework of the
legend is quite similar; the materials, however, are
quite dissimilar. It should be observed, that, in some
versions of the main legend, the long sleep is a more
important incident than anything else. We have the
story of the Cretan Epimenides, who, tending his flock,
fell asleep in a cave and did not wake for half a cen-
tury. We have again the mystic number Seven in
connection with long sleep, —as in the different versions
of the Seven Sages of Hellas and the Seven Sleepers of
Ephesus. In the latter the tradition also goes that St.
John was not dead, but only sleeping till the great
consummation of the world should come.
It is not necessary to show further that the American
story is only a common form, a legend diffused through-
out the length and breadth of Europe. These tales of
Rip Van Winkle, of the two fiddlers of Strathspey, of
Peter Claus, of the Rabbi Chone Hamagel are simply
myths —
" Or such refraction of events,
As often rises ere they rise."
As a study of comparative Folk-Lore, the above
sketch brings out pretty plainly one or two things. It
shows, first of all, that there is a good deal of human
nature in men wherever we find them. It shows, also,
that we mortals are "all in a tale." From the stupid
Peter Klaus and the hen-pecked Rip Van Winkle to
the school-master Icabod Crane and the subtile Rabbi
Honi, we all share coincident beliefs or delusions.
{To be concluded.)
TO ARMS.
BY WHEELBARROW.
I have just been reading the proceedings of " The
Trade and Labor Assembly," and also the resolutions of
" The Cigar Maker's Progressive Union." Both
gatherings demand social and economic changes of great
importance, but the Cigar Makers' arc the more " pro-
gressive " of the two. They have reached the
end of rational argument, and propose to fight.
Their program was contained in a " circular,"
the first demand of which was " Destruction of
the existing class rule by energetic, relentless, revolu-
tionary, and international action." They also adopted
some resolutions, the chief of which was " that
the only means through which our aims, the emancipa-
tion of all mankind, can be accomplished, is open rebel-
lion of the despoiled of all nations against the existing
social, economic, and political institutions." Those
resolutions have a flavor of Barnaby Rudge. They
resemble the crimson doctrines proclaimed by the
London apprentices, led by that " relentless " warrior of
the thin legs and the wooden sword, Captain Sim.
Tappertit. Still, for all that, their language is plain,
and they express a bold purpose. A hater of " class
rule" all my life, I am willing to fight for its destruc-
tion. Where is the recruiting office?
Although I am not certain that a "class rule" of
" Progressive Cigar Makers " would be any better than
6i6
THK OPEN COURT
the ''class rule" we are living under now, and although
there is no close affinity between shoveling coal and
making cigars, still, I am willing to stand by the Cigar
Makers as brother constituents in the great confra-
ternity of labor. Unlike most occupations toward
each other, there happens to be no reciprocity of bene-
fits between the Cigar Makers and me. The favors
conferred are all from them to me, and none from me to
them. They are compelled to burn coal, and thus give
me employment, but I am not compelled to burn cigars.
I cannot help their trade to the amount of five cents a
year. I cannot afford to smoke cigars. I have to be
contented with a pipe of tobacco, and think' myself
lucky to get that. My son, however, the short-hand
writer that I spoke of, gets twice as much wages for
scribbling curious pot-hooks and hieroglyphics as I ever
got for shoveling coal, and he can afford to smoke cigars.
I think he smokes more of them than is good for him, but
that's his own affair, not mine. If I had his wealth I
should probably smoke cigars as he does. Whether I
smoke their cigars or not makes no difference; I am as
ready to fight for the rights of Cigar Makers as for my
own; but, although I have sought diligently for it, I have
thus far been unable to find the recruiting office. Where
can 1 find the headquarters of Captain Sim. Tappertit?
Brothers, unless we are ready to open the recruiting
office let us not talk about fighting. By doing so we
expose our own weakness. We bring derision upon
ourselves and contempt upon our cause: That is not
the worst of it; we undervalue the moral forces which
we hold in our own hands. We depreciate the strength
we have by appealing to a strength which we have
not. It may be rash and foolish to fight even for liberty,
but it is brave. To talk fight without intending it
is equally rash and foolish, but not brave. It is neither
wise nor patriotic to persuade the working men that
their moral resources are all exhausted, and that there is
no reform power in the ballot, in the press, and in public
opinion. The statement is not true; and the men who
make it present to us a dilemma of double despair.
Without arms, discipline, leaders, or even a plan of
battle, fighting is clearly hopeless. If the ballotis impo-
tent also, then we must fall back for comfort on bom-
bast and beer. We can fill ourselves with nectar of the
gods at five cents a glass, and boast of our intention at
some future time to paint the universe red. It is all
very fine to pass a string of resolutions, to " sound the
tocsin," whatever that is, and summon us to the fray,
but the resolutors will not lead us. They pretend that
they can no more set a squadron in the field than
Michael Cassio. They invite us to go ahead and do the
fighting. If we win, and accomplish the " relentless "
revolution, they promise to step up and accept all the
offices under the new government. This division of
labor is not fair.
Suppose that we do possess power enough to overturn
one government, have we sufficient wisdom to form
another and a better one? I have serious doubts about
that. 1 think we have a great deal to unlearn before
we shall be competent to establish and conduct a just
government. I fear that even the " Progressive Cigar
Makers" are scarcely equal to the task. At the great
Labor picnic I saw them with " relentless " fury destroy
the stock in trade of a merchant on the ground. His
offense was, that he had some cigars in stock which had
been made by Cigar Makers who were not " Progres-
sive." For this, his property was destroyed and his life
placed in jeopardy. Men, who value liberty only so far
as it gives them freedom to oppress their fellow-men,
talk of building a new civilization on the ruins of the
American political and social system.
For instance, in the "circular" referred to above, I
find a demand of "equal rights for all without distinc-
tion to sex or race, " and I also read that the very meet-
ing that adopted it "protested against the employment
of women. " What sort of "equal rights" will be estab-
lished by a party which refuses to women the equal
right with men to earn an honest living? The Trade
and Labor Assembly also appointed a committee, which
made a report complaining of many wrongs which la-
bor suffers in the City of Chicago, and among them this:
" Female labor is being largely used to replace male la-
bor in skilled occupations, such as telegraphing, book-
keeping, etc. " The radical mistake of the labor re-
formers is the delusion that all persons who work at the
same trade are enemies, snatching bread from one
another. I used to think that way, but now I believe
that the reverse of it is the true doctrine. I believe
now that everybody should work, that the more work-
ers the more product, and consequently the more com-
forts of life for us all.
The equal right of women to work at " skilled la-
bor" is evidence that we are emerging from that social
barbarism which consigned one part of them to the
bondage of the kitchen, another to the insip;d languor of
the drawing room, and another to a dependence on
man's wickedness, so pitiful and so sad that we fear to
look upon it lest it show us the reflection of our own
guilt, and make our consciences rebel within us at the
savagery of man. " Skilled labor" is one of the blessed
agencies that shall redeem women from poverty, from
wash-tub slavery, and from sin. It may be said that I
can talk this way because women don't compete with
me at shoveling coal or carrying the hod. That's true;
but I would talk the same way if I were a skilled
mechanic. If I were a telegrapher or a book-keeper, I
would hold myself unmanly to whine and whimper
should a woman come along and compete with me at
the trade. Throw open to women all the trades, all the
offices, and all the professions, and make her independ-
THE OPEN COURT.
6r
ent. I have another theory also, and it is this: That the
elevation of woman can never degrade man nor her
prosperity injure him.
There are some things that we feel to be wrong,
although we may not have sufficient ability to demon-
strate their injustice. The principle of excluding per
sons from learning or exercising trades I am confident
is not sound, although I may not be able to tell why. I
feel it because I have suffered from it. I told, in a for-
mer article, how my four sons were forbidden to
learn any trade in this land where they were born,
which their forefathers fought to establish, and which
their father fought to re-establish. They were forbid-
den , to learn by the laws of the trades. I feel that the
exclusion was unjust, and that the principle of it is
wrong. My daughter learned a trade in spite of the
doctrine, and it is now proposed that she shall not exer-
cise it. She is a book-keeper. She is competent, has a
good situation, and, although not yet seventeen years old,
she feels absolutely independent. A lot of social re-
formers get themselves together in a beer saloon, and
" resoloot " that she ought not to be guilty of earning
her living at "skilled labor," on the ground that she
works for less wages than a man would work. How
do they know? And whose business is it but her own?
The fact is that she is getting higher wages than some
masculine book-keepers get, although less than some
others. That isn't all ; there are plenty of young men
in town who would gladly take her situation at less
wages if they could get it. There are hundreds of
" males " who would readily work at her desk for ten
dollars a month less than she receives. The people who
are so sensitive about "competition " are quite willing
that she shall compete with. some poor girl as house-
maid, or cook in the kitchen, but they are not willing
that she shall " compete " with a man at a desk. The
most curious thing about it all to me is, that those
" reformers " who make this fussy war on women have
the nerve to talk about fighting men.
ARE WE PRODUCTS OF MIND?
BY EDMUND MONTGOMERY, M. D.
(Conclusion.)
A definite molecular motion of the brain substance is
all we can ever hope of directly becoming aware of,
while observing a brain in functional activity. This
our visual awareness would consist of nothing but a
definitely extended and peculiarly colored space per-
ception, whose constituent elements were undergoing
intricate changes of position. Such a colored percept,
in a state of minute commotion, is indeed the utmost
that our sight could possibly reveal of the wondrous
functional activity emanating from the supreme organ
of animal life. Here, as elsewhere, our objective obser-
vation is incapable of disclosing anything more than per-
ceptual matter in motion. All the rest is and must ever
remain inferential.
Our philosophical task is to render such inference as
consistent as possible with the totality of observed phe-
nomena. And this task devolves upon us because
scientific experience of every kind has taught us that all
parts of the universe are interdependently connected by
definite and natural links. An organism is not in
reality the self-rounded and occluded entity which to
immediate perception it appears to be. All its peculiar-
ities have reference to relations which it bears to its sur-
roundings. Science renders in fact more and more
obvious, that it has been built up, out and out, through
interaction with this its natural medium.
The question then is: What can we legitimately
conclude concerning the nature of the brain and of its
functional activity, beyond what may be immediately
seen "or otherwise perceived by us?
We may first of all be certain that the organ — which
to our perception seems made up of nothing but definitely
disposed filaments, cel'ls and homogeneous substance,
and the function of which seems to our visual observa-
tion to consist of nothing but a peculiar molecular stir, —
that this organ, apparently consisting of nothing but
grouped particles of matter, is in its own intimate nature
possessed of an inconceivably complex and replete con-
stitution, the significance of whose intrinsic activities
could not in the remotest degree be conjectured through
objective observation, even if we came fully to under-
stand the specific laws which govern the path of the
moving molecules. There is a wealth of efficiency
organically locked up in what perceptually appears to
us as brain-substance, which is only superficially and
vicariously disclosing itself to an outside observer in the
form of symbolical signs consisting of nothing but per-
ceptual motions.
How otherwise than endowed with transcendent
riches could the organ be, which in its essence is the
embodiment and sum total of all the main results of
endless vital elaboration ? We are indulging in no
vague conjectures when we are allowing ourselves to
believe in the profound, super-sensible import of brain-
substance. Researches in comparative anatomy and
embryology unmistakably indicate, that the brain has to
be looked upon as a synthetical product of vital activity.
Its specific constitution has evidently resulted from the
structural organization of variously blended influences,
emanating chiefly from the surface of contact with the
medium. This surface, in the course of organic evolu-
tion, has become differentiated into areas variously re-
sponsive to sundry specific modes of outside stimulation.
Thus the areas of sight and hearing have been differ-
entiated from that of touch, each of them corresponding
to a specific mode of outside stimulation. And these
different sensory areas have themselves again become
6i8
THE OPEN COURT.
more and more specialized into diversely sensitive points,
as is strikingly manifest in the skin in the organ of
Corti, and in the retina.
The brain has moreover been developed into a cen-
tralizing and synthetical sphere of organic efficiencies by
the structural fixation of definite modes and paths of
connection, gradually establishing themselves between
the various stages of centrally combined sensory in-
fluences and the motor side of the organism — between
the ingoing and the outgoing efficiencies of organic life.
We must remember, that these developmental connec-
tions and combinations have all originated and been
wrought in closest proximity to one another within the
same central nerve-substance. Thev are in verity in-
timately related ami interdependent organic processes.
We, in whom they occur, become aware of them only
when they are structurally established; realizing them
either introspectively as complex facts of consciousness,
or objectively through our senses as distant and trans-
muted motor outcomes.
Sensory and motor efficiencies are certainly not dis-
tinguished from each other in the central organ, as they
are usually taken to be by outside observers, who per-
ceive only the motor outcomes and infer therefrom cen-
tral activities, which they at once invest in imagination
with the character of mind, that these vital occurrences
do not really possess as perceptible organic processes.
Could the observer exactly perceive what is going on
in the central substance, he would see nothing there but
a molecular commotion, and could not possibly dis-
tinguish which part of this activity had a sensorial or
conscious and which a motor or unconscious significance.
Indeed, it is obvious, that the motor character of such
centrally started activity is not acquired until the mole-
cular commotion reaches the specific motor organs.
Many phenomena, and notably those of so-called " mind-
reading," render it highly probable that the sensorial
and the motor effects — the conscious and the unconscious
outcome of the organic process — originate in one and
the same substance; the former of these effective out-
comes being the inner awareness of the same activity,
which, propagated to the muscles, discloses itself as a
motor performance of so definite a character that the
concomitant conscious state may be conjectured by it.
Surely it is here the organic constitution of the
functioning substance, which determines the strict corres-
pondence obtaining between a definite conscious state
and a definite motor outcome; — not a free-floating con-
scious state which sets going a definite molecular stir in
the brain-substance so that certain muscular fibres may
be moved in a consciously designed manner.
I repeat again most emphatically : Mind or con-
sciousness is only the inner awareness of certain high-
wrought organic activities, which activities are rendered
possible solely by structurally established synthetical
results. We may be sure, that, whenever manifold in-
fluences reach the central substance, their combined im-
port becomes structurally realized in its intimate con-
stitution.
In this connection it is a highly significant em-
bryological fact, that in reproductive evolution the brain
is developed from the ectodermic layer, or sphere of out-
side relations, chiefly as an outgrowth of ,the sensory
surface. The organ, then, which is perceptively re-
vealed to us as a brain, is really the structurally estab-
lished synthesis of sensori-motor efficiencies, and this
could not possibly be the case, unless such synthetized
efficiencies were realized in the intimate constitution of
the substance embodying them.
Consciousness is no synthetical chemist, much less
the creator of the wondrous specific affinities, which
render such consummate chemical synthesis possible as
constitutes brain-substance. Consciousness is evidently
impotent to bring about any kind of structural synthesis.
The building up of higher and higher living substance
has to be looked upon as a creative process, occurring
during interaction of the organism with its medium, and
accruing to it as a cosmic gift beyond all interference on
the part of consciousness.
Through most gradual structural elaboration the
living substance got at last to respond specifically and
adequately to the multifold incitements of the outside
world. The full and wide-reaching attunement of vital
reaction to external influences — strikingly manifest in
highly developed organisms — rests entirely on such pre-
established structural correspondence. Each definite
complex of outside efficiencies, each perceptible existent,
strikes on the surface of the developed organism attuned
chords, which in the central nerve-substance bring into
functional pla)' its appropriate and pre-organized counter-
part or neural cast.
The inner awareness that accompanies this organic
process is conciousness. Keeping exact pace with the
organic development and specialization of the living
substance, the originally dim and uniform sensibility of
the organic individual became concurrently developed
and specialized into corresponding modes of concious
representation, until with us, through inner illumination
during the functional stir, this now subtly prepared
sensibility succeeds in picturing minutely and distinctly,
as vital counterpart, the outside influences affecting our
senses.
The simultaneous living preservation of all the
gradually accumulated organic casts, thus wrought into
the living substance by the external power-complexes
that time after time have stimulated the organic indi-
vidual, enables it thereafter to represent to itself the
many forms and relations of the outside world, even
when not in the least directly affected by them. Being
thus capable of considerately representing in ideal
THE OPEN COURT
OK)
presence the conflicting and concording influences of
many absent contingencies, it develops the faculty of
foresight by which it liberates itself more and more
effectively from the exclusive tyranny of immediately
compelling sense-impiessions, and human beings by
force of the system of abstract motor expressions, called
language, gain at last the power of handling the entire
wealth of their otherwise scattered experience as a
consistent body of knowledge.
Organized correspondences to a wide range of
possible and successive external influences, having thus
become established as a simultaneous possession within
the living individual, by means of the preservation of
results gained through gradual vital elaboration, it is
evident, that the motor bearings and expressions of these
same relations to the outside world have likewise become
gradually established by the same process of vital elabo-
ration. The execution of new variations of movement
can be effected only where the organic region of its ideal
forecast is already so far organically prepared as to be
capable of energizing during functional activity the
corresponding motor outcomes. This may take place
with considerable difficult v at first, but could never take
place at all where the structural possibility underlying
the action is not pre-established in the acting substance.
New specializations and combinations of motor outcomes
have thus accompanied step by step, as complemental
part of the same organic achievement, the specializations
arid combinations of sensory functions. Indeed we find
the sensorial figurations of our relations to the outside
world so intimately intertwined with their motor expres-
sion that the one cannot be functionally stimulated with-
out the other, at the same time emerging into actuality.
This occurs even when the stimulus is artificially
applied, as strikingly manifest in the case where an
experimentally assumed motor attitude, expressive of
some emotion, is followed by the corresponding emotion
itself.
This close organic interdependence of sensorial
meaning and motor expression is furthermore most
subtly and conclusively displayed in the instance of
language, where the motor mark and its mental signifi-
cance are so intimately blended, that the thesis, " No
thought without language," can be legitimately
defended. Indeed we are cjuite incapable of grasping
or of apprehending outside existence, or of conceiving
its relations to our ownself, unless our mental representa-
tion of such existent and its relations succeed in express-
ing itself through appropriate motor outcomes. It is only
through appropriate motor outcomes of correctly estab-
lished organic — and therewith also mental — correspond-
ences, that we are effec ively brought into intercom-
munication with the out-ide wor'd.
Even " attention" and determinate spice, these two
great puzzles of intiospectve psychology, are — objec-
tively speaking — both specific motor accompaniments of
specific sensory functions. Attention is motor tenison
of the region attending; such tension being widely
diffused during anticipation in keeping with the reach of
ideal forecast, or only centrally initiated in case of more
inner or ideal contemplation, but readily narrowed or
peripherically irradiated in correspondence to actual
sensory stimulation, or in more vivid and communicative
expression. And it is with help of adjusted motor
activity of the eyes and limbs that definite spatial rela-
tions are apprehended. We are fundamentally and
essentially sensori motor beings.
Activity in nature, of whatever kind, discloses itself
to direct observation solelv in a vicarious way through
perceptual signs. Our senses cannot reveal to us what
such activity may be in its own intimate nature, and
whether or not it signifies something inwardly to the
acting existent itself. Could we, for example, in our
visual percept of an object realize the vibrating motion
which we infer as actually present in its heated state — a
state otherwise consciously realized by us through our
skin as a peculiar, well-known sensation — even then we
would not in the least know the intimate nature of the
activity which was thus affecting our various modes of
sensibility. For the perceived vibration would be a
mental phenomenon within our own self, and the non-
mental activity in the perceived existent could conse-
quently nowise resemble it. Nor would we at all know
whether or not such activity had self-significance for the
heated object.
With whatever inner awareness inorganic existents
may be endowed, we are not in a position to form
well-grounded analogical conclusions concerning its
characteristics. But with reeard to organic individuals
— especially such as possess nerve-centres — an observer
is indeed in a position to know vastly more than is
revealed to him through mere perceptual motions. The
wealth of conscious experience accompanying in the
observed being the organic nerve-function — a function
perceptible as nothing but molecular motion — this con-
scious wealth he is capable of realizing through analogy
with his own conscious experience. Thus only through
connaturalness of organization or similarity of bodilv
constitution are we empowered to understand the other-
wise impenetrable inner meaning of those at least of
nature's outward doings that occur in beings nearest
related to ourselves.
This figure, formed of variegated patches, now arising
before me as conscious percept of mine, and aroused in
my field of vision by no other means than subtle touches
of an etherial medium, signifies in all reality the veri-
table presence of a genuine human fellow-creature — not
in any way a phenomenal and ephemeral mode of some
unknowable absolute, but, in abiding existence, itself a
substantial incorporation of nature's highest achieve-
620
THB OPEN COURT.
ments, endowed with the same world-containing depth
of being as levealed to myself in the transcendent bod-
ings of my own inner life.
And those slight variations of mimetic expression,
those explanatory gestures and vocal signs of communi-
cation, in themselves only perceptual motions of that
same variegated spectre in my field of vision, are never-
theless wondrously intelligible to me, their inmost
intention being strangely manifest to my awakened
intuition through the sympathetic magic of connatural
relationship and its inwrought wealth of conscious
experience.
After the many considerations here brought forward
it can remain hardly doubtful, that all the manifest
endowments of the individual who thus perceptually
appears to us as a most minutely organized bodily pres-
ence, and whose wealth of inner nature is sympathetic-
ally intelligible through affinity of constitution — it can
remain hardly doubtful that these his manifold endow-
ments are one and all actually and naturally inwoven in
his own living frame; — that the same creature who
makes his presence perceptually known to us, is also he
who perceives, thinks, and gives motor expression and
actuality to his intentions concerning the sensible world.
We know for certain that the veritable being of an
organic individual cannot possibly be of mental con-
sistency; for whatever partakes of the nature of mind,
besides being in its very essence fitful and evanescent, is
utterly powerless to affect the senses of an observer so
as to compel any perceptible revelation of itself.
We know further that the non-mental organic
existent which actually does affect our senses, compelling
its perceptual or bodily revelation, cannot itself in any
way resemble this his mere conscious representation in
the observer.
When we bear in mind these two incontestable and
cardinal truths, we surely must come to the conclusion,
that a being radically differing in its own intimate con-
stitution from its mere perceptual appearance in our
consciousness, — a being in fact quite impenetrable to
objective observation as regards its wealth of inwrought
efficiencies that such a being, in all reality endowed
with super-sensible powers, is having as functional
affection of its own, that wondrous inner awareness
which goes by the name of consciousness and which is
only sympathetically apprehended.
During functional inactivity of the central nerve-
substance the organic individual has no conscious states
or inner awareness, though to an observer the central
nerve-substance remains all the while visible. Now, as
soon as functional activity sets in, preceptible to an
observer only as a molecular stir of that same brain-
substance which had remained all the while visible, as
soon as such organic function sets in or is set going, the
observed individual experiences corresponding conscious
states. It is, consequently, altogether legitimate to con-
clude that consciousness is an outcome of the functional
activity of the organism.
Mind is a product of vital organization. *
TRANSLATION FROM LENAU.
UY * * *
Dwell on me, O, eye of darkness
Sweet unfathomable night.
With thy spell of gloomy magic
Exercise thy fullest might.
In thy veil of melancholy "
Shroud the world out of my sight:
And above my fate forever
Hover blissful holy night.
POETS ON PARENTS AND CHILDREN.
The poor wren,
The most diminutive of birds, will fight,
Her young ones in her nest, against the owl.
— Shakespeare.
His cares are eased with intervals of bliss:
His little children, climbing for a kiss,
Welcome their father's late return at night.
— Dryden.
But does not nature for the child prepare
The parent's love, the tender nurse's care ?
Who, for their own forgetful, seek his good,
Infold his limbs in bands, and fill his veins with food.
— Sir R. Blackmore.
How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is
To have a thankless child.
— Shakespeare.
Fathers that wear rags
Do make their children blind;
But fathers that bear bags,
Shall see their children kind.
— Shakespeare.
Of all the joys that brighten suffering earth,
What joy is welcomed like a new-born child?
— Mrs. Norton.
Children blessings seem, but torments are:
When young, our folly, and when old, our fear.
— Otway : Don Carlos.
* If, as maintained by Professor Cope in No. 19 of The Open Court, " the
proposition that the mind of man and animals is the essential and effective
director of their designed movements " is indeed "one of those fundamental
facts of observation for which no proof is necessary," then, not only
has this entire discussion of mine been absurdly unprofitable, but all our
philosophy since Descartes has amounted to nothing but idle talk. For it was
exact'y the impossibility of conceiving any natural intercommunication between
mind and body that gave rise to all the principal philosophical svslems of the
seventeenth century (Descartes, Genliux, Melebranche, Spinoza, Leibnitz,
etc.), and the general relation of the world in consciousness to a world outside
of consciousness has ever constituted the main problem of philosophy from the
dawn of speculation up to this present hour. Professor Cope is quite at
liberty to shun philosophical speculation and to stick exclusively to objective
observation, but then he must refrain from arguing about facts of conscious-
ness and their relation to our bodily organization; for it is absolutely certain
that facts of consciousness are not in any way objectively observable.
THE: OPEN COURT.
63 1
The Open Court.
A. Fortnightly Journali,
Published every other Thursday at 169 to 175 La Salle Street, (Nixon
Building), corner Monroe Street, by
THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY.
EDWARD C. HEGELER, - President.
DR. PAUL CARUS,
Editor and Manager.
This Journal is devoted to the work of conciliat
inff Religion with Science. The founder and editor
have found this conciliation in Monism, to present
and defend which will be the main object of THE
OPES COURT.
Terms of subscription, including postage, three dollars per
year in advance.
All communications and business letters should be addressed to
The Open Court Publishing Company,
P. O. Drawer F, Chicago, Illinois.
THURSDAY, DECEMBER 22, 1887.
TO THE READERS OF THE OPEN COURT.
In number 21 of this journal Mr. B. F. Under-
wood published my acceptance of his and Mrs.
Underwood's resignation as editors of The Open
Court. The publication is made in a manner intend-
ing to convey to the readers that he and Mrs. Under-
wood have been wronged by me. Mr. Underwood
says, in particular, "... the immediate cause of the
editors' resignation is Mr. Hegeler's expressed desire
to make a place on The Open Court for Dr. Paul
Carus, who never had, it should here be said, any
editorial connection with the paper, who never wrote
a line for it except as a contributor and as Mr. Heg-
eler's secretary, and who was unknown to Mr. Hegeler
when his contract with the editors was made. To
the request that Dr. Carus be accepted as an editor,
the present editors, for good and sufficient reasons,
have unhesitatingly refused to accede, and although
always willing to make concessions when required in
the interest of the paper, a point is now reached
where they feel compelled by self-respect to sever
all relations with this journal rather than yield to
Mr. Hegeler's latest requirements."
I now lay before the readers of The Open Court
my correspondence with Mr. Underwood leading to
his engagement and resignation, so far as it has ref-
erence to the questions brought before the public by
Mr. Underwood, and statements of what took place
at personal meetings in regard to this. Also a transla-
tion of those parts of my correspondence with Dr.
Carus leading to his engagement.
Mr. Underwood's words, to make a place on The
Open Court for Dr. Paul Carus, refers to the fact that
Dr. Carus is bethrothed to my daughter. Mr. Under-
wood has expressed this more fully in his letter of
resignation hereafter published.
I will here state that soon after the publication
of the first number of The Open Court, when Dr.
Carus first came from New York, and before he had
ever seen me or any one of my family, Mr. Under-
wood was already informed by him that he, Dr.
Carus, expected to have an official connection with
The Open Court. This Mr. Underwood wished to
have delayed, and I then did not insist upon Dr.
Carus having an editorial position on the paper.
To form an opinion whether or not Mr. Under-
wood has taken a correct view of the motives of my
actions, the readers of The Open Court will have to
take the trouble of going through the correspond-
ence and memoranda.
Those readers who have not the time to go
through the whole correspondence, will find in a con-
densed form the substance of my transactions with
Mr. Underwood in the memorandum of the meeting
last September, when all differences were discussed.
The nature of Mr. Underwood's letter of resigna-
tion, together with my desire to fulfill completely my
contract with him, have caused me to let Mr. Under-
wood publish the last number of his editorship with-
out any comments or interference on my part.
Neither have I received from Mr. Underwood any
suggestion in this regard beyond the general one in
his letter of resignation of October 28th.
If Mr. Underwood should notice any omissions
which he thinks should not have been made from
the correspondence or memoranda of the meetings
they shall be supplemented on his application.
From the time of the meeting at La Salle in
September to my final acceptance of Mr. Under-
wood's resignation, I have been contemplating what
in a business way my obligations to the late editors
were under the circumstances. The paper, as con-
ducted by Mr. L'nderwood, was costing me fully $500
per number in addition to the subscriptions received.
A question to me was whether it was my duty t«
6i:
THE OPEN COURT.
continue the paper under Mr. Underwood without
change to the close of the year, especially as he be-
lieved that the bulk of subscriptions would come in
during the fall and winter months. But as the num-
ber of subscribers was much less than Mr. Underwood
had expected and did not increase in the fall
months, and having paid for the paper over sixteen
thousand dollars until December 1st, considerably
beyond Mr. Underwood's expectations, I came to the
conclusion that I had done my share in giving
Mr. Underwood an opportunity in the direction of
reaching a business success. I submit the evidence
without argument to the readers of The Open
Court.
CORRESPONDENCE AND STATEMENTS, MADE
FROM MEMORY, CONTAINING THE SUBSTANCE
OF WHAT WAS SPOKEN AT MEETINGS RE-
LATING TO MR. UNDERWOOD'S ENGAGE-
MENT AND RESIGNATION.
Boston, June 22, 1886.
E. C. Hegeler, Esq.:
My Dear Sir — You may know that The Index irom
the time it was founded, has been compelled to
depend partly upon financial aid from generous
friends interested in the paper. To carry The Index
through to Jannary 1, 1887, nearly a thousand dollars
will be required, in addition to the estimated receipts
from subscriptions, etc., and my colleague, Mr. f, and
myself, are authorized and requested by the trustees
to address such persons as we may think interested
in the paper and able and disposed to help make up
the deficiency of the present year. Should you
decide to favor the paper with a donation, it would
be greatly appreciated by us, and by none more than
myself, who, with the business management of the
paper in my hands, have the past year devoted a
good part of my time, energy and ingenuity, to
keeping down expenses and arranging the business
so as to make two ends meet, where the time should
have been given to the editorial department.
Sincerely yours,
B. F. Underwood.
La Salle, 111., July 7, 1886.
B. F. Underwood, Esq.:
Dear Sir — I duly received your favor of the 22nd
ult. . . . Could you make it possible to meet me in
New York's neighborhood, the forepart of next week ?
Should like to have a thorough talk with you — if
we cannot start a paper in Chicago, . . . Perhaps
you can drop me a message, stating your possibili-
ties, Friday evening, to Hoboken.
How much you expect me to contribute to The
Index, you can then also tell me.
Yours, truly,
Edward C. Hegeler.
Boston, July 9, 1886.
Dear Mr. Hegeler — I have just received your
letter, written at La Salle the 7th. I should be pleas-
ed to meet you, and since you suggest it, to talk
over the advisability of starting a paper in Chicago.
Very truly,
B. F. Underwood.
At the meeting then arranged to take place at
Manhattan Beach, Sunday, July 12th, I thoroughly
explained to Mr. Underwood that I wished to start a
Monistic paper and gave him my views in detail, as
they have since been expressed in my articles, "The
Basis of Ethics," and " The Soul," which have appear-
ed in The Open Court. I also explained to Mr.
Underwood that I consider the Agnostic ideas of
Spencer, and others, harmful to progress. These
views seemed plausible to Mr. Underwood, who took
the position that they were rational and sound. Mr.
Underwood informed me that arrangements were
pending with ... to move The Index to New York.
Boston, July 22, 1886.
Dear Mr. Hegeler — I have had a talk with my
associate editor, Mr. f, repeating substantially the con-
versation which you and I had in regard to a paper
in Chicago. At present the understanding with Mr.
* * * is, that if he can arrange to take The Index and
continue it in New York, the transfer shall be made in
January. But, it is by no means certain
that the arrangements will be effected. But little
has been done as yet, so far as we know. In case
that the New York scheme shall fail, some arrange-
ment for the transfer of the paper to Chicago, and
for making it the nucleus of what we talked of, is
possible; but I think there would be some objection
on the part of the present trustees, to having it go so
far from Boston as Chicago, and to having it pass
from the hands of the trustees and become an
individual concern.
So, if the Chicago enterprise is to be carried out,
it will be just as well at present not to count upon
The Index. If circumstances should, at the com-
mencement of the new publication, lead the present
trustees to make a proposition in behalf of the
Chicago project, well and good. It might be started
independently and Mr. f agrees with me there would
be many advantages in that. Mr. f and I talked
over the fact that many of the The Index readers
would give their support to the new paper should I
become identified with it, and we queried how far
this micht diminish the desire of the New York
THE OPEN COURT.
parties to accept the paper, under the circumstances.
As the Chicago enterprise is at present but an idea,
of course nothing will be said about it here, beyond
the conversations between Mr. f and myself. The
relations between us have always been of the most
friendly and cordial nature, although we have not
always entirely agreed in our views. But the busi-
ness management of the paper has been entirely in
my hands, and editorially each has expressed his
own views, without consulting the other, over his
own name or initials. In the five years we have been
associated, there has never been the slightest jar, nor
any question which we have not mutually settled
satisfactorily to both.
And any arrangement I may be a party to in
regard to a new paper, will, while I am on The Index,
be made with Mr. f 's full knowledge, and in a way
that shall preclude the possibility of any misunder-
standing or ground in the future for complaint.
This much I have thought it best to write you
now. More at another time. I have sent you a few
of our Liberal papers that you might look through
them and see the kind of papers that are published
in the interests of Liberalism.
Truly yours,
B. F. Underwood.
La Salle, Aug. 7, 1886.
B. F. Underwood, Esq.,
My Dear Sir — I duly received your favor of the
22nd ult. ... I will repeat to-day, that my desire
to start the paper in Chicago is no new one. . .
I broached the idea to you, I think, before you took
hold of The Index — though it was very indefinite
then, perhaps not even pronounced. I pronounced
definitely then that I wished to draw you here for
local work.
The idea before me now is, that you and Mrs.
Underwood move into my former home, north of my
present one, this Fall, and that we try to start a
fortnightly or monthly in Chicago from here. If it
appears necessary, you to move to Chicago. Of
.course, if we should move The Index to Chicago, you
may have to move there at once. That the paper
be an independent, individual enterprise, I think-
most desirable. I believe that we would well agree
together. The paper should have definitely and
energetically outspoken views, and if we both find
them sound, they will make the paper a success too.
. . . Yours truly,
Edward C. Hegei.er.
Boston, Sept. 9, 1886.
Dear Mr. Hegeler — I have, since the receipt of
your last letter, been awaiting the development of
events which should determine the future of The
Index, that I might write you something definitely.
Thus far, I have learned nothing in regard to the
New York parties. I am doubtful whether any steps
have been taken likely to result in the success of the
new enterprise.
In that case, the Association (F. R. A.), may
decide to continue The Index for another year on its
present basis, as my reports during the summer
months have been more favorable financially than
was anticipated. If this decision is made I will, with-
out doubt, be requested to continue in charge of the
paper as hitherto. There are many tilings that
attach me to The Index, and to Boston; my relations
are, without exception, pleasant, even cordial, with
the trustees and with At the same time,
I like the West; and if I can enlarge my use-
fulness and do a better work for liberal thought
in Chicago, on a paper such as we have talked of, I
shall not hesitate to make the attempt. In that case I
will, if The Index is continued in this city, have to
tender my resignation, or decline re-election as busi-
ness manager and co-editor, at the end of the pres-
ent year. If our talked-of Chicago enterprise is
started, and the Index trustees can be induced to let
us have the paper as a nucleus of our proposed
journal — in case * * * fails in his efforts — I shall be
glad; but knowing the wish of .... to have The
Index in the hands of a board of trustees, in which the
Free Religious Association shall be represented, I
am not hopeful as to this point, and do not count
upon such a transfer. In some respects, as I wrote
you, I believe it would be an advantage to have The
Index; in some other respects it would hamper us.
I do not know whether you still intend to come
East this fall. If you do, it is best that we shall have
another interview, and that we definitely decide as to
what is best to be done. You have the capital, and
of course you will consider — probably have already
considered — the financial aspects of the enterprise. It
is not probable that the receipts will, the first year,
anywhere near equal the expenses. All that I can
promise and guarantee is that if I join you in the pro-
posed enterprise, I will do the best I can to make it
a success. 1 came upon The Index with no expe-
rience as editor of a paper, and no knowledge of the
business management of a paper. The Index was
running down rapidly, and I succeeded in turning the
tide. I have kept the paper up for five years. In
this time I have learned much, and all this gives me
a confidence which I should not otherwise feel; and
still I regard the difficulties of sustaining a radical,
independent journal, as by no means small. Your
own practical talent and business sagacity would be
perhaps more valuable than my experience in journal-
ism; both would be of account. There are features
624
THE OPEN COURT.
of The Index of course, that would not appear in the
new journal. The Index, when I assumed charge of
it, was the organ of an association, and its chief con-
stituency was composed of a class but little advanced
beyond the radical wing of Unitarianism. I have
been obliged to adapt the paper to some extent,
to this class. It has been therefore less scientific
and less a representative of modern scientific thought
than it would have been had the paper been exclu-
sively under my control without any of the inherited
characteristics, and quasi-theological surroundings.
There are some points in your letter we can con-
sider when we meet again, or if you do not come
East this season, we can agree upon by correspond-
ence. Where I shall live is not a matter of much
importance, perhaps. But the paper should be pub-
lished in Chicago, that it may have at the start a
metropolitan appearance and promise. Mrs. Under-
wood's .... help — as on The Index, when she has
been able to contribute — would be of much advantage,
as she has abilities which supplement mine in edito-
rial work. Much of the best work on The Index has
been from her pen.
If the new paper is started it should be, I suppose,
with the beginning of 1887. My contract will keep
me here till then. However, I could have all the
contributors secured, and every thing ready so that
the first number could be issued early in January. As
for that matter, it could be in readiness to be printed
as soon as my name should be dropped from The
Index. I suppose the next trustee meeting of The
Index will be early in October; and by that time, you
and I should have arrived at an understanding suf-
ficiently definite to enable me to determine what it
is best to do. If you shall think it best to defer for
a while the enterprise of a " new paper," it will be
all right, so far as I am concerned; on the other
hand, if you have fully made up your mind to go into
the undertaking, and the arrangements can be made
to begin in January, it will be best to agree upon
details as soon as practicable, and to take advantage
of all favorable circumstances between now and that
time. There will be no difficulty in getting first-class
contributors at moderate cost, but we should decide
as to what is needed, and give writers time to pre-
pare the articles.
I shalbbe glad to hear from you at your conven-
ience. I have delayed writing you too long this
time, but during the summer months I have thought
it best to think over the subject, and to observe what
projects and possibilities existed, before communi-
cating further with you. I am sorry that nothing has
occurred to enable me to write more definitely about
The Index. Cordially yours,
B. F. Underwood.
La Salle, Sept. 19, 1886.
B. F. Underwood, Esq., Boston, Mass:
My Dear Sir — Your favor of the 9th inst. came
duly to hand. I am glad to learn that your inclina-
tion to take hold of the Chicago monthly has pro-
gressed. I have carefully read your letter, which
well informs me of the present aspect of affairs.
The next thing now to be definitely arranged will
be the financial basis of the enterprise. How much
capital have I definitely to agree to give to it? How
much thereof will have to be put in in the first year,
and can what is to be given thereafter, be on the con-
dition, that towards the close of the first year the
enterprise gives a reasonable promise of success?
What contracts do you and Mrs. Underwood have
to ask for your personal work at the enterprise?
The programme of the paper we should be per-
fectly clear about. To me it is an earnest effort to
give to the world a philosophy in harmony with all
facts (a monistic philosophy) which will gradually
become a new religion to it, as it has to me.
To make you nearer acquainted with my views, I
send you for inspection the records of my discussions
with Mr. * * last winter, as unfinished as they are
yet, at least.
I hope we can be together with you and Mrs.
Underwood for a few days, either at Newport or at
Boston, and if you will take the trouble to make
yourself acquainted with the writings and note your
objections, discuss them
Yours truly,
Edward C Hegeler.
Boston, Sept. 28, 1886.
Dear Mr. Hegeler — I have read the records of
your discussions with Mr. * * with much interest, and
portions with entire approval. There are some re-
marks which, as I read them, I found it necessary to
qualify, or to supplement with additional thought
before they seemed quite satisfactory to me, I will
not attempt to specify here. In your naturalistic,
monistic view of the universe, comprehensively
speaking, I fully concur; with your terminology I am
not always satisfied, as I am not with my own; as I
am not, indeed, with any that I know. With your
views of morality, as far as they are developed, and
with your optimistic, or rather melioristic spirit, I
am in full sympathy. I see more good than evil in
nature; and man appears as a factor in promoting
the former and lessening the latter; so that, he who
continues to work for human elevation has no grounds
for pessimism and no occasion for misanthrophy.
Nature is the "All in all," and we, her highest
products — known to us — can by our efforts increase
what to us is relatively " good," and lessen what is
relatively "evil." I will, at my earliest convenience,
THE OPEN COURT.
625
give you my creed, or a concise statement of the
best philosophical and ethical conclusions to which
I have been able to come.
I think if your discussion is to be published, that
it should first be carefully revised. Subjects were
introduced sometimes in a way that broke the con-
tinuity of thought, and caused to be dropped often a
line of thought at the point of greatest interest, to
me, at least. In verbal discussion this is very liable
to occur; but it can be remedied afterwards.
Upon reflection you might see the advantage of
presenting your thought in essay form rather than as
a discussion, which appearing as an oral debate on
philosophical subjects would by its form repel, I
think, more than it would attract. All you have ad-
vanced could, without great difficulty, be systematized
and put in a literary dress that would greatly improve
it, and secure for it a class of readers that would
hardly look at a verbal debate on such subjects.
However, this is but a suggestion, made in accordance
with your request, that I offer any remarks that
occur. More, when I see you, as to this.
Enclosed herewith is an estimate of the cost of
publishing a monthly magazine of size and quality
which I think would satisfy you and would prove
probably the most desirable.
The cost would not, with judicious management,
exceed the figures I give. I would also like to have
the privilege of doing some lecturing, when I can do
so without neglecting the journal. I should make
my lecturing everywhere a means of advertising and
pushing the circulation of the publication, as I did in
case of The Index when I was lecturing two, three
and five years ago.
Another idea I have worth considering. A maga-
zine must be more or less heavy and grows into cir-
culation slowly; and with it, it will be difficult to
reach the masses of Liberals. I have thought it
would help to have a weekly flyer — a little paper of
two sheets, four pages, of the size of Index pages,
to be made up of paragraphs and short letter ex-
tracts, etc., relating to scientific, social, religious and
industrial matters, one page to be devoted to adver-
tising and setting forth the claims of the magazine;
the little weekly to have the same name with the
monthly. Thus, if the magazine should be called,
" The Index Magazine," have the weekly named " The
Index Flyer," perhaps. The paper would enable us, by
keeping our hands on the pulse of the Liberal move-
ment, and by independent, vigorous and impersonal
criticism, by suggestions and propositions, to infuse a
wholesome influence into the active Liberalism of the
country, and to rescue it from the anarchial and
chaotic condition which, with so many writers, seems
to be thought synonymous with free-thought. I believe
the largest estimate I have given, 88,425, can be
made, by economy and good management, to cover
the additional expense of such a paper, or nearly so,
and it would bring in money. Please consider this.
If this enterprise is to be inaugurated, I want to see
it made a success — financially, of course, as well as
morally — and I believe it can be; but after consider-
ing all the circumstances, the encouragements and
hinderances alike, you must render the final decision.
I have given you an estimate of the money to be
paid out. From this the amount of the receipts will
be deducted; and how much they will be can only be
conjectured. If the weekly is published it can be
put at Si. 00 per year, and the monthly at S3.00.
Very truly yours,
B. F. Underwood.
P. S. — The name of the journal is important. It
should be one somehow suggestive of the general
thought and purpose of the publication, and one, the
meaning of which will be readily understood. About
all the names that one can think of in the English lan-
guage have already been used, and most of them are
now in use. I am not satisfied with any that has yet
come to my mind.
Do you not think your name should appear as
publisher of the magazine, or as publisher and
co-editor also? It would be quite satisfactory to
me. Perhaps Mrs. Underwood's name might, to
advantage, appear as associate editor, as it should
have appeared in The Index.
The contributions, I think, should commence on
the first page, and the editorials, book reviews, etc.,
appear in the latter part In such a publica-
tion there must be more or less diversity of thought;
but we could select writers and indicate subjects that
would secure a general unity in carrying out our
project of advancing a scientific and naturalistic
philosophy in distinction to theological and specu-
lative philosophy.
I have learned by letter that Mr. * has not
thought best to start a paper at present; and that * * *
will take hold of it, is yet doubtful. I wrote Mr. f
the other day, that if the New York project failed,
and the trustees wished to entertain a proposition
from you in regard to a transfer of the paper to Chi-
cago, I thought something satisfactory could be
done. No response has yet been made to my letter.
The trustees met last week, but adjourned to hear
further from certain sources, and will meet again
next week.
I shall await an answer to this letter from you,
and if you decide to start the publication, with me
as manager, and under the editorship of myself and
Mrs. Underwood — and yourself as co-editor, if you
choose — I shall at once address a letter to T/ie Index
626
THE OPEN COURT.
trustees, notifying them that my connection with
The Index will terminate at the end of the present
year. Meanwhile, I will at once proceed to make
arrangements for the first number of the new journal
to appear early in January; that is, if the decision
to commence the publication is definitely and posi-
tively made.
If any of my conditions or suggestions are
thought objectionable for any reason, and you have
others to name, I shall, of course, be glad to receive
them. B. F. U.
At the meeting in Boston in October, 1886, the
records of my discussions with * * were taken up
for discussion. Mr. Underwood stated that they
were not in a form suited for publication. The fol-
lowing agreement was made and signed. Mr. Under-
wood explaining that it was necessary that he be
untrammeled in the management of the paper, and
that he possess independent control:
Boston, Oct. 8, 1886.
" The understanding between E. C. Hegeler and
B. F. Underwood is as follows: A liberal publication
is to be started in Chicago early in 1887, to be the
property of E. C. Hegeler, and under the business
and editorial management of B. F. Underwood, sub-
ject to such conditions as the two shall mutually
agree upon; that in consideration of B. F. Under-
wood's agreement to resign his position as manager
and editor of The Index, to take effect January 1,
1887, he shall be guaranteed a salary of Si, 800 per
year for his services, the time not to be less than one
year, assisted by Mrs. Underwood from the time of
the beginning of the work on or for the Chicago
enterprise."
Mr. Underwood further said that he would do his
best to present my views, and made no opposition
to them, as he had also not done at Manhattan
Beach. I am convinced that I also mentioned to
him that I wished the name of the new journal to be
"The Monist," as that was the name I had long
intended for the journal I had expected to found.
Boston, Nov. 3rd, 1886.
Mr. E. C. Hegeler:
My Dear Sir — The New York movement to start
a paper, to be under the direction of trustees, and to
be edited by Mr. * * * has collapsed. I have of
course, been doing what I legitimately could fairly
and justly to get The Index list for our new journal.
At the meeting of The Index trustees held on
Monday last, the discontinuance of The Index at the
end of the present year was definitely agreed upon,
and the paper herewith enclosed will show you what
action was taken. The discontinuance is a certainty.
The business has been managed, since the beginning
of the present financial year (from July, 1886), with
rigid economy, and the receipts with some three
hundred dollars donations, have been sufficient to
meet expenses. The indebtedness of The Index be-
yond the amount on hand at this date is but a trifle
indeed; I am not sure but that there is a balance of
a few dollars in favor of the paper.
I state these facts that you may understand the
situation, for I wish to know from you whether I
shall say to the trustees that you will accept their
proposition. The advantage is in having the first
year — the trying time for all newspapers — a list of
first-class subscribers; men who will be known in a
business way, to the new journal, and many of whom,
by being continued as subscribers will feel an inter-
est in thenew enterprise asa continuation of theiryears
of connection with the editor and contributors. It
is desirable that an announcement, already long de-
ferred, be made if possible in the next Index.
My own opinion is that the value of the list will
be great, and the proposed announcement will give
the new journal, before it starts, the moral approval
and support of The Index — whose successor in a
certain way, as a high class exponent of liberal
thought, it will be. I have been unusually occupied
since I saw you last, but have been through your manu-
script and made some notes. I will have it ready to
return to you by next Monday sure.
Very truly yours,
B. F. Underwood.
Boston, Nov. iSth, 1886.
E. C. Hegeler, Esq:
My Dear Sir— .... At the F. R. Festival
in this city last evening there was frequent mention
of the Chicago enterprise, and much interest and en-
thusiasm shown in regard to it But now the
inquiry of all who write or speak about the paper is,
"What will be its name?" If we can decide upon
that, so as to have it in the announcement of the ar-
rangement which has been made, it will be to the
advantage of the paper. People generally can be
satisfied with nothing until a name has been given to
it. Many names have been suggested, Mr. * * *
suggests "Horizon," other names that have been sug-
gested or that have occurred to us are "Dawn," "The
Radical," "Reasoner," "The Reasoner and Critic,"
"The Sounding Lead," "The Meliorist," "The Tribu-
nal," " The Contemporary." Butthe one which seems
the most suggestive and appropriate to us, and to those
with whom we have talked, who are interested in the
enterprise is the following: The Open Court. It
indicates that the court is open for evidence, and the
discussion of the evidence. The name is new, never
having been, so far as I know, given to any publication;
and it is about the only good name, the only name
THE OPEN COURT.
627
that is easily understood; that is suggestive and
dignified, and at the same time popular, that we
have been able to think of. What do you think of it?
You must excuse the delay in returning your
manuscript. The extra amount of work, incident to
closing up The Index affairs, involving double the
usual correspondence, has left me no leisure to at-
tend to anything else. The manuscript has been
lying on my table, needing a few more comments,
for a week, and every day I have thought I would
get at it. Yours truly,
B. F. Underwood.
La Salle, Dec. 3, 1886.
B. F. Underwood, Esq., Boston Mass.:
Dear Sir — I have given much time to work out a
letter to you suitable to be published in regard to
"The Monist." This is the name to which I
adhere, after going carefully over the field again.
You may say that we intend to be an " open court"
for religious ideas. And the first case before the
court is to be the " Monistic Idea " vs. the " Agnostic
Idea." f is at copying for you part of the pro-
jected letter, for your inspection only, and if you
answer me at once, I may yet get the answer before
I am through with the letter, which I hope to have
in your hands a week from to-day. With compli-
ments to Mrs. Underwood. Yours truly,
Edward C. Hegeler.
B. F. UNDERWOOD, ESQ.: (The abort mentioned copy.)
Dear Sir — By your letter of November 18, I learn
that the time has come when we have to publish the
name and the programme of the new magazine we
are about to found, and I here give you the conclu-
sions I have come to:
I adhere to the name, " The Monist," as that con-
veys most truly the leading idea I have in regard
to this undertaking. The name, "The Monist," con-
veys the idea given in the New Testament in the
passage, " For in Him we live and move and have
our being," when the meaning of the word Him or
God, which is that of a person or individual, that is
a limited being is enlarged in accord with our pres-
ent knowledge to that of the continuous " All," which
includes everything, also ourselves. This idea drives
me to action, giving me that satisfaction which the
religion taught me in my childhood, gave to me
then, and is the definite outcome of the long contin-
ued struggle in me between my early religion and
science and experience.
You suggest the name, The Open Court, and
convey by these words the view I had in regard to
this magazine, that while it shall have a definite
opinion on religious subjects, it shall not only be open
to opposing views, but especially invite them. Let
the title be "The Monist," an open court for those
religious ideas that affect the building up of religion
on the basis of science.
Boston, Dec. 6th, 1886.
E. C. Hegeler. Esq.:
My Dear Sir — In the last Index you will see Mr.
f's announcement, a statement by me in regard to the
new journal, and Unity's Prospectus. I felt the im-
portance of saying something definite. Whatever
modifications may have to be made can be announced
either in the last number of The Index or in the first
number of the new journal. What I have done has
been with the approval and advice of ... . and
other good friends of the Chicago enterprise, who
have concurred in the conviction, that if anything
at all was to be said about the new paper, it would
be not less definite than the statement I have made,
and that any change in the plan could be duly an-
nounced without involving any breach of faith.
Truly yours, B. F. Underwood.
La Salle, Dec. 7, 1886.
B. F. Underwood, Esq., Boston, Mass.:
My Dear Sir — The Index of December 2d, reached
here last night. It was not quite unexpected to me
that it would bring a preliminary announcement of
the proposed new publication, as circumstances com-
pelled you to act. My letter of December 3, giving
you my conclusion in respect to the name, and the
outlines of what was my desire to be the programme
of the publication, will have reached you since. The
main contents are that I adhere to the name, "The
Monist." That conveys most truly the leading idea
I have in this undertaking. It is the idea given in
the New Testament in the passage: " For in Him
we live, and move, and have our being," where the
meaning of the word " Him," or "God," which is that
of a person or individual being, that is, a limited
being, is enlarged, accords with our present
knowledge as to that of the continuous "All," which
includes everything, also ourselves.
This idea joined with ideas on immortality, of
which those of Gustav Freytag, which I commu-
nicated to you a few years ago, form a principal
part, give a solid basis to ethics; I think entirely
that which Herbert Spencer shows us. What origin-
ally might have been called a philosophy has gradu-
ally become a religion to me, in its practical test in
real life.
What leads me in this undertaking is not so much
a sense of liberality, as a desire to communicate my
ideas to others, to see them further developed, and
also to have them contested. I feel they will be
strengthened by contest, and look forward to it with
pleasure.
628
THE OPEN COURT.
I will state here that I conclude from my reading,
which is largely in German, that the ideas I put
forward here, or similar ones, are already held by
many. I wish the journal to be a mediator between
the strictly Scientific and the progressively
inclined world. The special feature must be to
obtain the opinions and criticisms of the ablest men
in the various departments of Science, on the opin-
ions advanced by the journal, as to what is estab-
lished by Science, and also in regard to speculations
that are presented by the journal, if and then, how,
they are in conflict with established facts. The
character of the journal must be such as to win the
confidence of these specialists, and no effort or
money be spared to secure their co-operation.
You have suggested to me in your letter of
November 18, to name the intended publication
The Open Court, and not hearing from me, have
preliminarily published that as its probable name.
You convey by these words the view I had in regard
to the journal, that while it shall have a definite
opinion on religious subjects, it shall not only be
open to opposing views, but especially invite them.
I wrote you on December 3, that while adhering to
the name, "The Monist," I desired it to be an " Open
Court," and that the first case before it be that of
"The Monist vs. the Agnostic."
On reading the announcement in The Index last
night, I struck, however, on a name which, while
conveying my views, will, I think, be satisfactory to
you, and those who will contribute, and to many of
the readers of The Index, namely, "The Monist's
Open Court." Let us take that. Let us hold on to
the plan to make the journal a monthly. It is to
deal with difficult subjects, and time for considering
them will be desirable for both editors and readers.
Let the price be three dollars per year.
I write this letter to you for publication in The
Index, and therefore, while I did not wish my name
mentioned in connection with laudatory preliminary
notices of the intended undertaking, I gladly affix it
to a definite announcement of the same, accompa-
nied by a declaration of principles.
With kind regards to Mrs. Underwood and your-
self, I remain, Yours truly, Edward C. Hegeler.
44 Boylston St., Boston, Dec. 7th, 18S6.
E. C. Hegeler, Esq.:
My Dear Sir — Yours, enclosing the first part of a
letter . . . submitted to me for inspection, and re-
marks, reached me yesterday afternoon, while I was
having a conference with Mr. f. I give up every-
thing else now that I may answer you at once. I
have pondered what you have written carefully, and
write you with the same frankness with which you
have kindly communicated your views to me.
I hope we shall be able to unite on a suitable
name for the journal. "The Open Court" (first
thought of by Mrs. Underwood) seemed to me a very
fortunate name; it is praised by those who have heard
or read it, so far as they have written us, but there
may be a better name; but I do not think the name
you have suggested is what is needed.
Permit me to mention some of the objections
which occur to me, to the name " Monist " for the new
journal.
1. The words Monist and Monism are unknown
to the mass of readers, and would convey to them
no idea whatever. The words have not yet appeared,
I think, in our dictionaries, except in some of the
latest editions.
The object of language is not to conceal, but to
communicate thought, and for this reason, as Aris-
totle said, one who would be a wise teacher, though
he has the thoughts of a philosopher, should use the
language of the people. In a philosophical treatise,
the words Monist, Monistic and Monism are allow-
able, although even there they would, for the majority
of readers, require a note defining them; but the
name Monist for a journal would defeat the very
object of a name, which is to convey to those to
whom it looks for patronage some idea of its char-
acter and aims.
2. While to general readers Monist would be a
meaningless word — which the unfriendly religious,
or mirth-loving secular editors would be pretty sure
to change to Moonist — to the few thinkers acquainted
with the word it simply implies a philosophical theory
in distinction to the conception of Dualism. Now a
liberal journal cannot wisely, in my opinion, be
pledged by its name to a particular speculative
theory, much less should the views of the editors be
thus labeled in advance. Let Monism be presented
and defended (and criticized of course), but let the
readers judge as to the result of the discussion, and
draw their own conclusion, based upon the merits of
the arguments, pro and con, instead of having a pre-
judgment implied in the name of the journal.
3. Monist and Monism are words, the precise
philosophical meaning of which has not become so'
well established as to have the same connotation for
all thinkers who use them. You, I notice, make
Monism the antithesis of Agnosticism. Now ob-
serve what Haeckel says: " I believe that my monis-
tic convictions agree in all essential points with that
natural philosophy which in England is represented
by Agnosticism." (1884). I could easily show you
by quotations from their writings that Spencer,
Huxley, and Tyndall, all avowed agnostics, are also
Monistic thinkers. And Buechner, who resolves
everything into matter, is not more monistic than the
THE OPEN COURT.
629
idealists who reduce everything to ideas. I who am
an agnostic in the sense in which Huxley (who first
brought the word into use) employs it, and in the
sense in which Spencer applies it to himself, am also
in full intellectual sympathy with the monistic phi-
losophy, which endeavors "to derive," as Strauss
says, "the totality of phenomena from a single prin-
ciple— to construct the universe and life from the
same block." I believe that all phenomena, dis-
tinguished as mental and material, have a common
basis, in the ultimate nature of things. But when I
say that I do not know what this ultimate nature is,
I am in the company with Spencer and Huxley, with
Haeckel and Buechner, even, as well as with Kant.
There will be sufficient opportunity for the exposi-
tion of Monistic thought in the columns of the new
journal, but let us not narrow it at the outset by giving
it a name which stands for only a school or class of
thinkers, and which would rather repel many able and
earnest thinkers, with their adherents. Let the name
be comprehensive enough to include in its scope the
consideration of every school and system of philoso-
phy, and then we can present our own views and rely
upon the force of our arguments and the strength of
our positions to win attention and gain assent.
The expression, " a religious magazine," is so
common, and the usual meaning of the word religious
is so strongly fixed in the popular mind, that it would
not, I think, give a correct conception of the charac-
ter and purpose of the publication. My friends and
opponents would be surprised to see my name as
editor of a journal called " a religious magazine."
When liberal thinkers speak in defense of religion,
they find it necessary to use some qualifying words,
— such as the " Religion of Reason and Humanity " —
to distinguish it from what is popularly regarded as
religion, viz.: Theological belief and a system of
worship.
But further; since the new journal should be de-
voted to the consideration, not only of religion, but
of all those philosophical ethical and social questions
which are of current interest and importance, it does
not seem to me wise to use the word religious in the
way suggested.
You observe that the first case before the Court is to
be the " Monistic Idea" versus the "Agnostic Idea."
Of course this statement is based on the conviction
that the two conceptions are antagonistic, wherein you
differ with Haeckel, Spencer and the other thinkers.
I suppose you mean that in the first number of the
journal, you wish to present your views on this sub-
ject. That is all right; I shall be most happy to assist
you the best I can, to present your thought to ad-
vantage. Your articles will — if I understand your
wish — appear over your own name, or any pseudonym
you may decide upon. But there are to be other
articles by contributors, and a certain amount of
editorial matter; and both should be of a character
to attract attention to the new journal, and to secure
for it recognition and influence. Mere philosophical
discussion — in which personally I feel a deep interest
—I know to my sorrow, has attractions for but a
comparatively few; and any publication which makes
it the main thing, is sure to fail pecuniarily, and to be
limited to but a few readers. Even the famous
Loudon Quarterly, JJiud— the ablest philosophical
publication in the world, and established several
years ago — is a continual expense to the proprietors.
A liberal journal, to be a success, must take up and
discuss from an advanced point of view, all the great
questions of the day.
And I am now led to another point of great in-
terest to me. The work of editing and conducting a
first class journal is a very complex work, requiring
not only an aptitude for writing on many subjects,
not only tact and judgment, but that knowledge of
detail which experience alone can give. The selec-
tion of contributions, giving the right prominence
and proportion to the different departments, secur-
ing a unit)' of plan (amid more or less diversity of
thought), in order to give symmetry and complete-
ness to the result of many thinkers' efforts, all this
requires a certain knowledge, which only one ex-
perienced in journalism can fully appreciate. It is
therefore of the first importance that in editing a
journal an editor be unhampered. Suggestions and
advice are always welcomed by a reasonable man;
but in conducting a journal there must be, to secure
excellence and success, the editorial authority to
manage the journal, according to the best editorial
judgment.
In the new enterprise you will have at stake a
certain amount of money. I shall have at stake
whatever reputation I have gained. If the paper
disappoints reasonable expectations, or fails under
my management, the result will be bad for me. You
will be unaffected by it, except pecuniarily; for it
will be known you entrusted the management to
another person. It is natural, therefore, that I should
wish to do my best to make the journal a great suc-
cess; and to do this, I deem it important that /have
the authority to go ahead unfalteringly, and that in
the editorial work I shall have unhampered control.
With the understanding, especially mentioned by us
in our conversation in this city, that you shall express
your views fully in the journal. I hope you will see the
■ mportance of authorizing me— as is indeed implied in
6.3°
THE OPKN COURT.
our agreement — to assume the uncontrolled manage-
ment of the publication, with, of course, all the ad-
vice and assistance you can render, if so disposed.
If, at the end of the year you shall he. dissatisfied with
my methods or work, it will be within your power
and wholly your right to try some other man.
This is the only condition on which a man who
knows anything about journalism, and who has con-
victions of his own, would desire or agree to edit a
journal in which his name was to appear as editor.
If this condition is not entirely satisfactory to you,
please say so frankly. Neither of us wish to be con-
nected with a journal without the fullest understand-
ing on this point.
I am deeply interested in this project; have writ-
ten far and wide in preparation for it; have secured an
unrivalled corps of contributors; have asked some to
have articles ready for the first number; have col-
lected thousands of names, and have everything in
readiness to send out circulars and trust nothing
will prevent the realization of our wishes and hopes;
but the condition I mention is so absolutely import-
ant to the success of the undertaking, and to my
going into the work with spirit and confidence, that
I have thought it best to write thus fully and frankly.
The arrangements with The Index you know of. But
for the Chicago project, I am of the opinion that an
attempt would be made to continue the paper in this
city; but now the general feeling is one of confidence
that the Chicaeo journal will, in a large measure,
supply the place of The Index, and the disposition is
to sustain the former. All the requests for transfer
thus far, have named The Open Court as the journal
of their choice. But if the condition I have named
is contrary to your understanding, or if there is any-
thing in what I have written likely or liable to inter-
fere with the arrangement made with The Index
trustees, do not hesitate or delay to send me a tele-
gram at once; for a change of programme would have
to be made at once, and should be announced in the
next issue of the journal.
I will only add that in my opinion the journal
the most likely to succeed at this time is a weekly;
but that if it cannot be a weekly, the next best is a
fortnightly. For a monthly I see small chance of
success, and I have conferred with many clear-headed
journalists on the subject.
I remain very truly yours,
B. F. Uxderwood.
Boston, Dec, 6, 1886.
E. C. Hegeler, Esq.:
My Dear Sir — The enclosed letter came to me
Saturday last. . . The same statements come to me
from other sources — direct from Chicago, one of
them. I send a copy of my hastily written reply
to the enclosed letter. I am not able to speak defin-
itely about the alleged negotiations, but I should like
to be authorized to deny, as stated in this letter.
Very truly yours,
B. F. Underwood.
The enclosed letter contained the following
passage:
Dec. 3, 1886.
"Dear Mr. Underwood: — My remark was the
mere echo of one made to me by Mr. * * * * While I
cannot profess to quote Mr. ****'$ words, their sub-
stance as I gathered it, was to this effect: That he
hoped you would find the full liberty and independ-
ence in your new relation that you were expecting.
To my inquiry, why you should not, he replied that
the gentleman who was to furnish the money was an
extreme radical, and very fond of having his own
way; that he had been in negotiation with two other
gentlemen besides (and I suppose before) yourself,
who insisted on the most absolute guarantee in
writing, of their exclusive control of the proposed
paper — and they could not obtain satisfactory terms.
He hoped you had everything settled and in writing."
Boston, Dec. 4, 1886.
Dear Sir — Accept thanks for your kind letter, but
I think Mr. ... is mistaken in what he states. He
evidently attaches to some remarks he has heard
undue importance. I have known for some years
the gentleman who will be the proprietor of the new
journal; and although tenacious of his own views, I
have never found him without proper respect for the
convictions of others. I know not what have been
his negotiations with others, but certainly the under-
standing between him and myself is, that I shall have
the business and editorial management of the new
paper. He will doubtless wish to express his own
views, but this he will do as an individual. He is
too reasonable a man to wish me, on account of
his ownership of the journal, to surrender my inde-
pendence in the management of the enterprise.
That is something which no position or salary could
tempt me to do.
Yours truly,
B. F. Underwood.
La Salle, Dec. 10, 1886.
B. F. Underwood, Esq., Boston, Mass.:
My Dear Sir — Your two letters of December 6th
arrived last evening only. Your letter of December
7th arrived this morning. I have only a few minutes
time now to answer and will use this to say, that I
have not been negotiating about the starting of the
Chicago paper, except with Mr whereof I be-
lieve to have fully informed you, this is now nearly
THE OPEN COURT.
631
two years ago. Mr. . . . never asked me about such
a written guarantee, whereof your friend writes, hut
after he was here in La Salle with me some time, de-
clared that he was convinced he could not edit a paper
satisfactory to me. He had shown to me certain
contributions sent him for the same, — the one a very
humorous article on the Easter services in the various
Chicago churches from the "Catholic" to "Swing's"
— and Swing was hardest dealt with, which I told
him were against my views in regard to the paper.
With Mr. * * I talked on the paper in a general
way last winter, — but do not, and did not deem him
suitable for the management of it,— though I believe
he will make a very able, bright contributor. I have
told you of this before.
Regarding your independence in the editorship
and management of the paper, — I would have noth-
ing to do with you if you did not show the full man-
hood which you express in your letter to your friend.
For anything what you write, I will, however, be
held as much responsible as yourself; even if I
contribute the money only for the publication. I
have to close now, expressing my fullest confidence
in your fairness.
Yours very truly,
Edward C. Hegelek.
La Salle, Dec. nth, 1886.
B. F. Underwood, Esq., Boston, Mass.:
My Dear Sir — I wrote you yesterday hurriedly,
closing "For anything what you write I will however
be held as much responsible as yourself, even if I
contribute the money only for the publication."
Since writing the above I have telegraphed you last
night, "Expect publication of my letter and your
answer thereto in next Index and earlier by mail.
Will agree to fortnightly."
I mean here my letter of December 7th which
perhaps has reached you this morning only, — and
that it is satisfactory to me, and that I expect you
will add an answer at once to my letter — and mail
me a copy thereof at once, so that I can send an an-
swer to the expected one of yours for the following
Index. Last evening I then have thoroughly read
your letter of December 7th and made pencil notes
thereto.
I expected to write some longer this morning
than I shall be able. I will refer only to some per-
sonal points. You say: "Much less should the
views of the editors be thus labeled in advance."
1. By the words, "The Monist's Open Court,"
only the person who supports the paper is intended
to be labeled. It should be specially stated at the
head of the paper that the editors are " Agnostics. "
If the Monist entrusts his case so far to the Agnostic
— this certainly implies great faith in his fairnesss.
2. Am willing to wait with the words, " RELIGIOUS
magazine." ....
3. Practically you will have to begin as a con-
tinuation of T/ie Index — but give preference to such
topics that together with other topics will in time
make clear the Monistic Idea.
4. To your remarks, " You will be unaffected by
it, except pecuniarily " Much more than
that; in what you say about my being affected, you
are quite mistaken. My manhood even is at stake.
5. I get along best with independent men who are not
afraid of responsibility. Expect you will not dis-
agreeably notice any restraint from me.
6. You spoke of my being editor with you even
— what I declined. The real position is that of a
partnership where one is usually the silent partner, and
does not unnecessarily annoy the other. Such
mutual restraint as that implies, is the real relation.
7. A telegram in answer to last part of your letter
would only produce confusion, and so I have sent
none — taking upon me the responsibility that in the
real substance there is no fatal difference of opinion.
I look for your letter with great interest in answer to
mine of December 7th — the one to be published.
Sincerely Yours,
Edward C. Hegeler.
Boston, Dec. 1 1, 1886.
E. C. Hegeler, Esq.:
My Dear Sir — Your letter of the 7th came yester-
day, and two telegrams to-day. I send you a line to
say that if the new journal is to be started with you
as proprietor and myself as editor, we ought by all
means to avoid going into a discussion before the
public, in regard to details on which we are not yet
fully agreed, in advance of the first issue of the
paper. It will make a bad impression and weaken
confidence in the permanence of our relation, and
the success of the enterprise. What you desire
to say could, it seems to me, be presented without
alluding to points as yet undecided.
The statement in The Index under the title of a
" New Journal, " is, of course, preliminary, and pro-
visional. That is not to go into the new paper; and
as to the list of contributors, it was made with
especial reference to Index readers; the design being
to carry as many with us as we fairly could. From
these writers, who have all promised to write if
desired, we can select such as we prefer, and add any
other names that will strengthen the new enterprise,
as we may come to see the needs of the paper.
632
THE OPEN COURT.
It has, since I last wrote you, occurred to me that
perhaps you will be satisfied to have the word Monist
omitted from the name, on condition that a notice
is kept standing as a part of the prospectus (or else-
where) something like the one I enclose* herewith.
That would define your position comprehensively,
and make readers interested in the expositions
of your thought which you will present, and
would leave the editors uncommitted and free to
define their position in their own terms. Does it not
strike you as more favorably than "A Monist's Open
Court?" We never apply a name in the possessive
case to a court, unless, for the sake of brevity, we say
a judge's court, (as Judge Gray's Court, — the court
over which he presides and decides as a judge).
I have already informed you that the grounds of
my objection are not my own opinions as to Monism
( for I am as strongly monistic as you can be). But
the grounds are, 1st: — The name is not understood,
save by a very few, and as the name of the paper
would be an almost insurmountable obstacle to suc-
cess from the beginning, 2d: — It would repel many
who understand it from the paper, because of the
committal implied, to a particular philosophical sect
or school, in advance. Many of the writers and sup-
porters of The Index, (who are ready to hear all that
can be said in favor of Monism) would feel no interest
in the paper
I hope I don't seem unreasonable to you. I only
regret I cannot now have an hour's talk with
you — so many things are there to consider which
cannot be written. If you could view the situation,
as it is known to Mr. f and myself, you would see
the importance of what I write, as you cannot now.
Yesterday I sent you a list of names, thinking
possibly some of them might strike you favorably.
I am not tenacious of Open Court, by any means,
and would agree to any other which would be under-
stood and indicate or suggest comprehensively the
scope and spirit of the journal.
Very truly yours, B. F. Underwood.
Boston, Dec. 12, 1886.
E. C. Hegeler, Esq.:
My Dear Sir — I sent you a proposition last even-
ing that a sentence defining your position as a
Monist be incorporated into the prospectus of the
new journal, or at any rate, be kept as a standing
notice. On this condition I believe you will consent
to omit it from the name of the paper.
I have read your letter carefully. If you shall
agree to compromise on the basis I have suggested,
it will be necessary to modify some expressions in
your letter. The modifications I have made, and
have added for your consideration [in accordance
* Substance of this enclosure is repeated in Mr. U.'s letter of December 16.
with letter sent yesterday] an additional sentence,
which you will see enclosed in brackets. If the let-
ter, as copied and slightly modified, can be made a
basis of agreement, it will need no reply and no criti-
cism from me in The I?idex ; but can appear as an
additional part of the announcement, from the pro-
prietor of the new journal.
As I wrote you, the paper, {The Index,) is made up
and goes to press Tuesdays. But this week I shall
hold it back till Wednesday, or until I get a dispatch
from you. Shall I publish the letter from you as here-
with enclosed? If any part is objectionable, indi-
cate it
If you insist upon it, your letter shall be published
verbatim, but first let us see if we cannot agree sub-
stantially, so as to avoid anything in The Index sug-
gestive of controversy between us, as to the new
journal.
I am glad you agree to a fortnightly. A monthly
would mean less work, but it would not, I fear, be
possible to make it a success. In this all journalists
I have talked with concur.
In haste, but truly yours,
B. F. Underwood.
La Salle, Dec. 13, li
B. F. Underwood, Esq., Boston, Mass.:
My Dear Sir — My last is dated December 11.
After mailing it, I telegraphed you:
My letter, expected to be published, is dated
December 7. My answer to your letter of Decem-
ber 7, not adapted for telegraphing, mailed partly
yesterday, partly to-day.
In answer to yours of the 7th, I wish to add yet,
that in regard to Index trustees — if any of the sub-
scribers who have paid The Index in advance should
wish their money returned in consequence of disa-
greement with my standpoint, that I shall not hesi-
tate with repaying their unexpired subscriptions.
In regard to our contract, which was at that time
understood primarily, I think by both of us as a con-
tract for a definite salary, I wish to state yet that
by any action of yours that you may deem to be
your duty to yourself in this enterprise, I shall not
be released from my financial obligation specified in
said contract.
As it was the programme up to the time that the
arrangement was made with the Index trustees, that
you would first come to La Salle and study through
with me in detail the matters touched in my manu-
script, whereupon we would go at the programme
THE OPEN COURT.
633
and commencement of the journal, I took no steps
to re-rent my former house, thinking you might
want to occupy it some time
Sincerely yours,
Edward C. Hegeler.
Boston, Dec. 16, 18S6.
E. C. Hegeler, Esq.:
My Dear Sir — I have already communicated to
you some of my objections to the word Monist, as
the name of the new journal As an " Open
Court " for the introduction and orderly discussion of
evidence, it should not have, even in the way you
suggest — "The Monist's Open Court" — the stamp
of a philosophical creed or theory. In fact, I think
that name more objectionable than simply The
Monist.
Assuming that you do not desire to commit the
publication to Monism in advance, I suggest that
" Monist " be omitted from the name, and that in the
prospectus, or in a standing notice, something like
this be stated: "The proprietor of this journal,
whose philosophy and religion are fitly expressed by
the word " Monist, " will present his views over his
own name or initials, leaving the editors free and
independent in all that pertains to their department. "
By this arrangement your personal convictions will
appear, so far as the name "Monist" can disclose
them, and the paper can still be, as our contract says,
" under the business and editorial management" of
myself, assisted by Mrs. Underwood
You state your leading ideas intended to be con-
veyed by The Monist, refer to your idea, on immor-
tality, you desire to communicate your ideas to others
and to have them contested, and to obtain the
opinions and criticisms of the ablest scientific men
on the views advanced. So far good. This you
give as the "declaration of principles." The pre-
sentation and discussion of your own thought will,
of course, be of prime importance to you, and I
doubt not of interest to many readers, but there are
other than purely philosophical and theoretical ques-
tions which must receive prominence in a journal
that is to obtain readers and exert an influence
to-day, — social, industrial, educational and religious
questions now occupying the mind of our ablest and
most earnest thinkers. I presume that the consider-
ation of these live questions is embraced in your idea
of the aim and scope of the new journal.
You have read my statement printed in the last
two issues of The Index. If it is unsatisfactory to
you, will you please return the enclosed copy with
such modifications, by omission or addition, as you
think are needed. We should come to an agreement
sufficient to admit of a definite statement, if any
substantial changes are to be made, before The Indi 1
is discontinued
Sincerely yours,
B. E. Underwood.
Boston, Dec. 16, 1886.
E. C. Hegeler, Esq.:
My Dear Sir — Since you did not consent to
making your statement for The Index in a way to
obviate the necessity of discussion in regard to our
project in The Index, I had your letter set up as fast
as I could, and wrote the reply that I sent you this
morning (with proof of your letter)
I repeat substantially only what I wrote you some
days ago, more at length. I do not see any reason for
discussing details of the Chicago project before the
public, when it is we who must decide and agree; but
I long ago learned to respect the wisdom of others,
when I could not concur in their wisdom nor con-
vince them of the wisdom of my own.
I note all you have written, which I have read
attentively, and am prevented writing you at length
in reply, only from utter inability.
I do not really think that my liberty or independ-
ence would suffer in my relation with you, and I
offer no objection to the relation as you state it (in
one of your letters of recent date). I think we may
safely leave this matter to be tested by experience.
If it is thought best, instead of having my letter
sent you to-day, follow yours, I shall be content to
print your letter in next issue without any formal
reply, but with simply a brief paragraph, stating
where we differ, and how we agree.
We are now nearing the end of the career
of The Index. Nearly all — all but two, I think — who
have requested transfers of their subscriptions, have
asked to be transferred to The Open Court; many
who have settled, wish to take the new paper, and a
number have paid in advance. The new journal
will have a fine list to begin with — a list which
includes many cultivated men and women. Hundreds
of letters in regard to it have been received, and I
think the prospect is most auspicious. This oppor-
tunity to start a new journal is one not likely to
come again, and I hope nothing will occur to mar
the prospect. I have my ideas of what is best, like
yourself, but I am willing to yield on any point,
which I do not regard as vital to the success of the
undertaking. It has gone out that there is to be a
new journal at Chicago; it has been widely adver-
tised; money is being received for it; and if the
enterprise is to be started, this is the opportunity.
The nearer what we decide upon comes to satisfying
us both, will, of course, be the best.
Truly yours,
B. E. Underwood.
634
THE OPEN COURT.
Boston, Dec. 17, 1886.
My Dear Sir — While I feel hopeful that your next
letter will show sufficient agreement between us as
to the projected new journal, to insure its certainty,
the situation compels me to keep in mind the possi-
bility of its failure by reason of my inability to
comply with all your conditions. If, after receiving
your final statement, I shall decide that your con-
ception of a first-class journal and mine are near
enough alike to make a beginning possible, I will
telegraph you accordingly. If your final letter is
such that I cannot accede to your requirements,
I shall notify The Index trustees at once, and
announce in the next Index the failure of the
project. Your letter of the 7th, and your reply to
mine, to be received, which accompanied proof to
you, shall be printed in the same number. If I shall
be compelled by my own ideas of what is right and
reasonable in the premises, to decide adversely, it
will be on grounds of such radical difference, that
it will be useless to have any further correspondence
or negotiations in regard to a new journal. I assume
that your letter will be final, as a statement of what
the journal must, and must not be.
There will be still one number more of The
Index after the next issue; in that only shall we have
a chance to make any further announcement as to
the change. In the contingency here supposed,
our failure to agree will not, so far as I am concerned,
in any way interrupt our pleasant friendly relations.
You have a right to start suck a journal as von prefer; if
I cannot agree to edit such a journal as you desire, it
is my right to decline. My deepest regret, as to
what has been done, will be over the announcement,
and the influence this project has had deciding the
action taken in regard to The Index. —As for our
written contract .... that need cause no trouble
in the event of the failure of the project. My own
plans would have to be made anew, and possibly an
effort might be made to revive The Index. All this
would be uncertain. The trustees have made no
provision for a possible failure.
Although I am providing for a contingency, I
sincerely hope and believe that we shall come to an
understanding, and that the new journal will be
established, and prove a great intellectual and moral
influence in this country. Yours truly,
B. F. Underwood.
La Salle, Dec. 20, 1886.
B. F. Underwood, Esq., Boston, Mass.:
My Dear Sir — I telegraph you this morning, viz:
"I cannot mail answer to your letter of December
16,* for next Index. Your standpi >int is satisfactory
to me." I hope to mail my answer in two or three
* Meaning Mr. Underwood's first letter of that dato.
days. The important point will be: That I accede to
the name, The Open Court, and further, that in the
declaration of principles, or rather, the programme,
my position be definitely stated, — stating, in a few
words, my purposes as they are known to you from
the beginning of our negotiations. Your letters
of the 17th inst. have also come this morning.
Sincerely yours,
Edward C. Hegeler.
La Salle, III., Dec. 24, 1886.
B. F. Underwood, Esq., Boston, Mass.:
My Dear Sir — I have carefully considered your
remarks in your letter of Dec. 16, and have conclud-
ed to adopt for the new journal the name you gave
it preliminarily, namely: The Open Court. The
programme I request you to modify by inserting,
" The leading object of The Open Court will be to
continue the work of The Index, — that is, to establish
religion on the basis of science, and in connection
therewith it will endeavor to present the Monistic
philosophy. The founder of the journal believes
this will furnish to others, as it has done to him, a
religion that replaces that which we were taught in our
childhood. Besides this, I accept your announce-
ment as published in The Index for the programme
of The Open Court."
I also adopt your suggestion of a standing notice
at the head of the journal, "While the proprietor of
this journal desires to spread by it the Monistic
philosophy and the religion it brings with it, the
editors are free and independent in all that pertains
to their department, the proprietor reserving the
right to express, over his own name, any difference
of opinions from those expressed by the editors, and
also to present, or have presented, his views over his
own name."
In my letter of the 7th I say, that while adhering
to the name, "TheMonist," I desired it to be an
"Open Court" and that the first case before it be
"The Monist vs. the Agnostic." My first thought
as to this was that the Monistic idea should not
be excluded from having to submit to trial, but the
contrary thereof. The further thought came with it,
that the difference now existing between Monists
and Agnostics was of primary importance to be
cleared away. This difference is splitting the
Liberal camp. The utterance of Haeckel in refer-
ence to English Agnosticism, which you quote, I
think does not apply to Herbert Spencer's theory of
the Unknowable. The new journal should endeavor
to ascertain this.
While the name proposed by me, "The Monist's
Open Court," was, in the first place, suggested by
the idea of a compromise, upon further reflection I
would say that such name would make the Monists
THE OPEN COURT.
635
responsible for the justice meted out in The Open
Court, as there is always some power behind a court
whose honor is at stake. In Prussia judgments are
pronounced as follows: " In the name of the King
it is adjudged, etc." Here, in Illinois, the people of
the State are understood to be those whose honor is
pledged for the justice meted out in our courts.
With the name, The Open Court, as it is now
adopted, and with our explanations, both Monists
and Agnostics would have a right to feel aggrieved
if justice should not be meted out in The Open
Court.
I omitted to mention in my letter of Dec. 7, that
what I presented for a programme was meant to be
supplemental to the programme published by you.
Upon your suggestion I have agreed to a fort-
nightly. I think the price should remain three
dollars per year; single numbers, fifteen cents. Let
me say, as it is possible that many who subscribed to
the new journal, or changed to it from The Index,
may not be satisfied with the change in the pro-
gramme, that I deem it my duty to return, if they
desire, any advance subscription money they may
have paid either as new subscribers or to The Index.
Sincerely Yours,
Edward C. Hegeler.
La Salle, III., Dec. 24, 1SS6.
B,. F. Underwood, Esq., Boston, Mass:
My Dear Sir — In answer to your private letter of
December 16th I send the following explanation and
reply. It is my opinion that we should stand quite
open before the public, our ideas in regard to the
journal, our mutual relation, where we agree and
how we differ; our independence of each other should
be known. As I said in my telegram, " nothing will
demonstrate your independence better." And so it
will mine. The fears of some of your friends have
caused you uneasiness; this should remove them.
I want the readers to understand from the outset
that it is not liberality on my part that leads me into
this undertaking, but that a definite idea drives me
to it. I devote the capital and personal efforts which
I give to the service of my leading idea. This decla-
ration is due to. the subscribers as also to myself. If
I do not insist upon the name " The Monist, " I want
it definitely understood that also this I do in the
service of my leading idea.
In the announcement of the new journal it is said
" whose name by his request is for the present with-
held. " This remark surprised me, as I had never
thought of not giving my name openly at the public
announcement of the journal. I feel thereby in the
position as if not daring to stand up for my convic-
tions. For this reason alone I want this misunder-
standing explained in The Index, even if I have to
ask that a supplemental number be issued for that
purpose alone.
The business part of the announcement I request
to read as follows: The first number of a new radi-
cal journal to be established in Chicago, will be issued
early in 1S87, just as soon as the necessary arrange-
ments can be completed. The new journal, the
name of which will be " The Open Court " will be
under the management of B. F. Underwood, with
Mrs. Sara A. Underwood as associate editor. The
proprietor will be Edward C. Hegeler, of La Salle,
111., or a publishing company he may organize.
The latter part of your letter, commencing with
the words, " By this arrangement your connection
will appear, etc., " to the close, I presume you will
omit from publication, as, 1st. What you quote from
our contract should read, " To be the property of E.
C. Hegeler, and under the business and editorial
management of B. F. Underwood, subject to such
conditions as the two shall mutually agree upon. "
2d. The paragraph you commence, "You state that
your leading idea intended to be conveyed by the
Monist, etc," shows an incomplete understanding at
the beginning. I also did not mean that the journal
should be limited to discussing my ideas. Probably
that will fill but a small part of the space. 3d. Why
the closing paragraph should be omitted, I have ex-
pressed at the beginning of this letter.
I call attention here to my changing the word,
"principle" to "standpoint," as this is the right
word for what I meant to express. With kind re-
gards. Yours Truly,
Edward C. Hegeler.
Boston, Dec. 23, 1886.
My Dear Sir — Your telegram and letter of the
20th duly received, the latter just as the Index was
going to press. I have not thought it necessary to
telegraph you, for your generous letter leaves
nothing, so far as I can see, in the way of inaugurat-
ing the Chicago enterprise. Your letter of the 7th,
with mine in reply, will appear this week, with an
extract from your letter of the 20th, and a statement
that another communication will appear from you
in the next issue. B. F. Underwood.
In February, 1S87, before the publication of the
first number of The Open Court, Air. Underwood
presented to me a proof of the standing notice there-
for, without embracing therein the definite state-
ment of my views as had been agreed upon by letter,
and also had been published in The Index upon my
repeated request, but instead gave what appeared to
me an unclear combination of his and my published
statements of the particular aim of the new paper.
Mr. Underwood also presented a proof of the first
636
THE OPEN COURT.
page of the journal, opening the paper with small
editorial notes as in the Index, instead of prominent
contributions, as had been my repeatedly expressed
wish, and also had been agreed to by him in his let-
ter of September 28, 1886.
Desiring to avoid a rupture, I asked Mr. Whipple,
who has for years been my attorney in patent mat-
ters, and whom I know to be a clear and cool-headed
man, to be present at a meeting between Mr. Under-
wood and myself. At this meeting I insisted upon
my Monistic standing-notice, as contained in my
letter published in the Index, telling Mr. Under-
wood that he might follow it with a statement of his
own as he might see fit 'to make it, he alone to be
responsible for that. This resulted in the standing
notice as given at the head of the editorial column
of The Open Court in all the numbers prior to the
present one.
THE MEETING IN SEPTEMBER, 1887.
When Mr. Underwood was present at La Salle in
September last, the agnostic character of the paper,
which was against my intentions, was explained to
Mr. Underwood. I called his special attention to
Mrs. Underwood's lately published editorial poem
"I do not know" expressing my sympathy there-
with so far as a religious feeling is shown therein
and an upright confession made that the writer did
not know to answer the particular questions of re-
ligion [which Monism does]. ( I had reference to my
often expressed declaration that I hold this making
of the "What I do not know " — that is the feature of
the not knowing this "what" — the final object of re-
ligious emotion as detrimental to the progress of
knowledge and injurious to mankind in general.
That I wanted to eradicate this idea, I had prom-
inently pointed out to Mr. Underwood from the be-
ginning of our negotiations.)
I repeated to Mr. Underwood what I had told
him before: It had become clear to me that
Agnosticism was a transitional standpoint to Monism
of those who, having found the teachings of old
theologies untenable, had not yet worked through to
the clear and definite view of Monism.
It was pointed out to Mr, Underwood that in
order to satisfy the readers a journal must editorially
define its position concerning the subjects brought
forward by the contributors.
It was further mentioned that the paper had not
found the expected support. I stated to Mr. Under-
wood that I contemplated Dr. Cams' appointment
as associate editor of the paper, together with Mrs.
Underwood (meant of course subject to my contract
with them in regard to time); that Dr. Carus' work-
was to me the most important part of the paper, as
being in harmony with my views. I could not ex-
pect him to do this work further on without proper
recognition and standing on the paper, and that
such standing was necessary for him for the corres-
pondence with European writers and savants, whose
contributions I especially desired for the paper, ( as
already expressed in my letter published in the
Index. )
Dr. Carus had been engaged by me for the special
purpose of presenting my views in the paper, which
was my reserved right as specified in the Index,
" to present or have presented my views over my own
name." If it has not been added to every contribu-
tion that its publication was made at my demand,
this has been meant as an act of courtesy to Mr.
Underwood and also Dr. Carus.
Upon mentioning my desire that a position as
associate editor be given to Dr. Carus, Mr. Under-
wood, with suppressed excitement stated, that could
never be. In a later conversation it appeared that
his feeling against Dr. Carus arose from the latter's
article, " Monism, Dualism and Agnosticism," which
was published in Number 8, of The Open Court.
I informed Mr. Underwood that Dr. Carus' article,
though written by him independently, expressed my
opinion. It was intended as an explanation in refer-
ence to a statement Mr. Underwood had addressed
to the Boston Investigator (in answer to a challenge ),
defining the nature of Monism and Agnosticism which
was not satisfactory to me. I told Mr. Underwood
that I had partly prepared a short article myself in
answer to his statement, but did not send it, thinking
the one coming from Dr. Carus more courteous to
Mr. Underwood. I explained to Mr. Underwood
that his definition "Agnosticism stands for what I do
not know in regard to the ultimate source of phe-
nomena" was dualistic. A source implied two
things: The earth with an orifice or opening, the
one, (the Creator), and the water (the created) the
other. This explanation did not satisfy Mr. Under-
wood. He said, as I understood him, in reference to
Dr. Cams' contribution: " If I want to insult a man,
I do it direct." I think I then called Mr. Under-
wood's attention to the statement in my letter to the
Index : " Let the first case before The Open Court
be that of the Monist versus the Agnostic. . .
The difference between Monists and Agnostics is of
primary importance to be cleared away."
I also communicated to Mr. Underwood that Dr.
Carus had requested me to take into consideration
a plan of his going to Germany for becoming profess-
or at a university there. In this, he thought, he
would have no difficulty, and he had taken some pre-
liminary steps for his habilitation. This would give
him, he suggested to me, a more effectual standing
THE OPEN COURT.
637
in case I should wish him to assist in founding a col-
lege for philosophy and scientific religion in Amer-
ica, an idea which I had often expressed. However,
I objeeted to his leaving his work at The Open
Court, where he in particular represented the views
which I intended to bring out by the journal.
Mr. Underwood stated that it would be impossi-
ble for him to work together with Dr. Carus, as he,
himself, was a combative man who held to his opin-
ions, and so was Dr. Carus; so that he had better
withdraw. My idea had been that Mr. Under-
wood and Dr. Carus should jointly arrange the
contents of the paper, and that at points where they
disagreed we would discuss the differences in a meet-
ing, when the decision would have fallen upon me.
Both, I thought, in this way would have found leis-
ure for lecturing. Mr. Underwood declining this,
I proposed an arrangement that Mr. Underwood
should manage the paper as heretofore, but that he
first present the proposed contents of the next issue
to me and Dr. Carus for discussion in a meeting
at La Salle and hear our opinions thereon, while
Chicago remain the place of publication.
Mr. Underwood accepted this.
Chicago, Oct. 14, 1887.
E. C. Hegeler, Esq.:
Dear Sir — . . . Last June I asked you to return
to me the copy of legal transcript and form of our
contract which Mr. . . . sent me, and which I
loaned you the da}' I received it. You stated you
would have a search for it made. If you have found
it, will you please send it to me, and if you have not
been able to find it, will you please send me a copy
of the one which Mr. . . . mailed to you at La Salle
the same time he mailed mine.
Very truly yours, B. F. Underwood.
La Salle, Oct. 15, 1887.
B. F. Underwood, Esq.:
Dear Sir — I have not put any value on the paper
drawn up by Mr. ... as it was incorrect and incom-
plete on the essential points, that is, those beyond the
money consideration, though through no fault of Mr.
. . . 's. I recollect that when you handed me your
copy, that I mentioned this, in substance at least.
I now have examined the file of our correspond-
ence and find that you asked for the above in yours
of June 30, when I sent you the copy of our contract,
for which you also then asked. The later sending
of this form drawn up by Mr. . . . has been over-
looked by me. Our contract of October last, supple-
mented by the letters published in The Index, is the
real substance of our agreement. In our meeting with
Mr. Whipple this was made fully clear to you in addi-
tion; so much so, that in Mr. Whipple's memoranda
which are in my possession, there is no note of
final conclusion even. We proceeded in the meeting
to important, practical business — acting under the
contract and the agreement in the published letters.
Respectfully yours, Edward C. Hegeler.
Chicago, Oct. 18, 1887.
E. C. Hegeler, Esq.:
Dear Sir — In reply to your letter of the 18th, I
have to say that I quite agree with you as to the
defectiveness of Mr. . . . 's memorandum of agree-
ment, owing to errors and omissions. As I have
already told you, I had but glanced at the document
when I handed it to you a few minutes after receiv-
ing it, some months ago, and doubt as to its state-
ments has made me the more curious to see it.
If you expressed dissatisfaction with it at the
time, or made any comments on it after reading it, I
certainly failed to understand your remarks, for from
that time I have wondered as to your opinion of the
document. But this point is unimportant. We are
agreed as to the incompleteness of the paper, not to
mention here other errors.
My understanding has been that our agreement
gives you the right to express your views, or to have
them expressed for you, over your own name, and
the right to protest against, or criticise anything pub-
lished in the paper; the protest or criticism to be
presented when so desired by you, on the first page;
and that these reserved rights are the only limits to
my independence and freedom in the editorial con-
duct of the paper. These conditions from the first
have been entirely satisfactory to me. I have always
been as ready to make room for your thought as you
have been to present it. If on this point you ever
think you have the slighest reason for dissatisfaction,
I hope you will at once make it known to me. I only
ask when you have long papers to present, that you
will notify me as far ahead as you conveniently can,
that I may include their insertion in my plans as edi-
tor, and not be compelled to break up the plan of
any given number, by putting aside articles in type,
designed to appear with others, to give symmetry,
proportion and completeness to the paper. I wish
as editor to be (as far as my position will admit of
it) as generous and obliging as you areas proprietor.
If, at any time, a misunderstanding arises between
us, you will find me, I believe, in trying to remove
it, as regardful of your rights and feelings as I am of
my own. I remain truly yours,
B. F. Underwood.
As near as I recollect, when soon after the meet-
ing in September I met Mr. Underwood in Chicago
he pointed out to me obstacles to his coming to
La Salle for a meeting at that time. Then I asked
him to send to La Salle the manuscripts on hand.
On October 17th, a number of manuscripts were
638
THE OPEN COURT.
received from Mr. Underwood. They were returned
with the following letter:
La Salle, Oct. 22, 1887.
B. F. Underwood Esq., Chicago:
Dear Sir — The whole M. S. articles sent by you
on the 17th inst., were retured by U. S. Express yes-
terday afternoon. Dr. Carus examined them all, my
daughter about a dozen. I enclose a copy of Dr.
Carus' opinion thereof given to me upon my express
desire. Yours truly,
Edward C. Hegeler.
The report contained only businesslike remarks
("available," "not available," "subject not suited
for The Open Court," etc)., in reference to the MS'S
— such as Mr. Underwood would have heard, if he
had come to La Salle for a meeting.
Chicago, Oct. 28, 1887.
E. C. Hegeler, Esq:
Dear Sir — When in Boston, a year ago this
month, we signed an agreement, in accordance with
which I subsequently came West to take charge of the
new journalistic enterprise, I hoped that my connec-
tion with The Open Court would last some years.
But during the past few months, and especially
since the last conversations I had with you at your
home, it has seemed to me that the present manage-
ment of the paper is not likely to last long. Dr. Carus
from the time he came West, has wished to have an
editorial position on The Open Court. This is now,
as you told me, desired by you, and I judge from
your remarks, by your daughter Mary, and perhaps
by your entire family.
In view of Dr. Carus' present and prospective re-
lation to you and your family, it is entirely natural
that you should wish to give him such a position as
The Open Court affords; and since you own the
paper, its continuance beyond a few months, at least,
except on condition that he have an editorial position,
is extremely improbable. But the condition is one
to which, as I said to you with equal frankness and
kindness, we can never agree so long as our relation
to the paper continues.
Since our connection with The Open Court is evi-
dently of short duration, and since I am dependent
upon my earnings, I must in justice to myself and those
dependent upon me, look beyond my present posi-
tion; and that I may do this, and remove all obstacles
which the present management offers, to any plans
that you and Dr. Carus may have, both Mrs. Under-
wood and I hereby tender our resignation, to take
effect at the end of the present financial year of the
journal, or as much sooner as may be necessary, to
enable you to make the changes desired, after receiv-
ing this letter.
We wish however our present connection with The
Open Court to continue long enough to admit, jn the
last number issued under the present management,
of a proper statement announcing our retirement, the
statement to be such as you and we may mutually
agree upon.
This letter I assure you is written in no pique,
and in no unfriendly spirit; but with a knowledge
that certain facts have to be faced, yet at the same
time with warm friendship for you and your family,
which is sincerely felt by both Mrs. Underwood and
myself. Truly yours,
B. F. Underwood.
La Salle, 111., Nov. 7th, 1887.
B. F. Underwood, Esq., Chicago:
My Dear Sir — I should not delay any longer giv-
ing some answer to your favor of the 28th ult., in
duty to you; though I can make it but quite short
now. The Anarchist question has occupied much of
my attention, and the trial of my late gardener com-
mences to-daj'.
I have partially prepared a longer letter to you —
the outcome of which is, that I have with regret to
accept your and Mrs. Underwood's resignation, as-
suring you of my sincere interest in your further work.
I will endeavor to free you from your work before
the close of the year — I had thought that it might
be possible that the number after the next one could
be made the closing number of the present adminis-
tration of the paper, but on account of the gardener's
trial I cannot say if Dr. Carus and I will be able to
give time to the paper so soon. Of course your
salary is to continue under all circumstances to the
close of the year, leaving it to you how much help you
will give me and Dr. Carus. With kind regards to
you and Mrs. Underwood, Yours truly,
Edward C. Hegeler.
Telegrams :
Chicago, III., Nov. 19th, 1887.
E. C. Hegeler, La Salle:
Is the present management to continue beyond
number 21 ? B. F. Underwood.
La Salle, Nov. 19th, 1887.
B. F. Underwood, Chicago:
I was expecting and still desire to hear your
wishes in the matter. E. C. Hegeler.
Chicago, Nov. 19th, 1887.
E. C. Hegeler, La Salle:
Ready to be relieved after number 21. Can't get
that out till late next week on account of strike.
B. F. Underwood.
La Salle, 111., Nov. 19th, 1887.
B. F. Underwood, Chicago:
Message received. You may close with number
21. E. C. Hegeler.
THE OPEN COURT.
639
Chicago, Nov. 22, 1887.
E. C. Hegeler, Esq.:
Dear Sir — In reply to my letter of October 28,
tendering my resignation with that of Mrs. Under-
wood's— for the reason that we were unwilling to
accede to your proposition that Dr. Paul Carus be
made associate editor — you wrote under date of
November 17 (Here follows copy of my let-
ter, except passage relating to salary.)
Since your letter left me in uncertainty as to wheth-
er you would close the present management with the
number after the next, i. e., with No. 21. I naturally
expect to hear more definitely from you in a few-
days. Having received no more definite word from
you, last Saturday I telegraphed you, asking whether
the present management was to continue after No.
21. You replied, forgetting perhaps, that it was I
who had been left in uncertainty, and who was wait-
ing to hear from you. "I was expecting and still
desire to hear your wishes in the matter."
I sent you a telegram in reply, saying that I was
ready to be relieved after No. 21, but that the print-
ers' strike would prevent the issue of that number
till the latter part of the next week.
These facts I here state that you may see there
was no neglect on my part in not writing you again
about this matter, when I had not heard further
from you.
If you have decided that No. 21 can, conven-
iently to yourself, be made the closing number of
the present administration of the paper, I will
arrange accordingly. I shall be just as well satisfied
with this as to have the change a fortnight later; at
the same time recognizing my obligation, and assur-
ing you of my willingness, if desired, to conduct the
journal faithfully, according to contract to the time
for which I am to receive salary.
.... If desired, I can send you all the manu-
scripts on hand, and you can send your copy direct to
. the printers, if you choose, and I will gather up the
threads of the business so that I shall be able to
turn over to you that department at the same time,
or which will be better, probably, the first of the
month — December 1. Yours truly,
B. F. Underwood.
CORRESPONDENCE WITH DR. CARUS.
( Translation.')
La Salle, Jan. 21st, 1887.
Dr. Paul Carus, New York.:
Dear Sir — By the kind sending of your poems
through our mutual friend, Mr. Underwood, you have
given me much pleasure. The poems have brought
you much nearer to me. After I had already known
you through your treatise "Monism and Meliorism," to
receive poems from you was quite unexpected by me.
1 should like much to have you nearer La Salle,
in order to have your help and advice in the work
on the new journal, and I have been thinking if
not a suitable position could be found for you in this
vicinity. I must also mention that recently Mr.
Salter spoke of you as qualified to bring my religious-
philosophical ideas into shape for publication.
I do not know how you are situated at present;
philosophical occupation alone would probably not
fill your time satisfactorily; perhaps you would take
charge of the education of older children. If so,
there would be an opportunity for this here. You
could also take charge of the correspondence with
German scholars and writers which I shall wish to
lead in the interest of the new journal. Also the
translation of German articles into English would
give occupation.
.Again, many thanks for your poems, also for your
treatise " Monism and Meliorism " which struck me
very sympathetically, though I as a realist am but
little acquainted with philosophic terms. I shall be
glad to hear from you soon.
Yours respectfully,
Edward. C. Hegeler.
New York, Jan. 24, 1887.
E. C. Hegeler, Esq., La Salle, Illinois:
Dear Sir — Your favor of January 21, has just been
received. In reply to it I would say that I am at
present co-editor of Zickel's Novellen-schatz and Famil-
ien blatter. . . .
In my present occupation I have had occasion to
observe that the German periodicals contain
immense treasures which are almost inaccessible to
American readers. The large publishing houses in
New York very freely- appropriate much that
appears in the English magazines — literary, as well
as scientific. But as a rule they pay little attention
to the French and German periodicals, because, on
the one hand, it involves the labor and expense of
having articles translated into English, and on the
other hand, scientific interests are too limited to
insure great pecuinary results.
It was my intention to establish a periodical to be
called the " Transatlantic Review," which should
contain a summary of the intellectual activity of
Central Europe. I had already planned all details.
Only the essential feature,— a publisher with the
necessary capital, was lacking. When I consider
that you are establishing a periodical which is to bear
a decidedly scientific stamp, and which is to be
devoted to the discussion of the subjects of highest
import to mankind, it seems to me that we might
combine our plans, and that you could assign to me
a certain space of The Open Court, to be called the
Transatlantic Review. This should contain a sum-
b^9
THE OPEN COURT.
mary of the most important recent European
publications, of inventions, discoveries, etc.; and in
addition, a thorough review of the most prominent
popular scientific journals of Europe, so that the
reader might be spared a perusal of the original and
still be thoroughly posted as regards current
thought; and, finally, a translation of one or two
articles of especial value and deserving general
attention.
Of course, this plan could be modified according
to necessity. I have no doubt but that, on the
whole, Mr. Underwood'will approve of it. . . .
With such a department as a Transatlantic
Review, The Open Court, which, according to your
plan, is to serve as a medium for the exchange of
philosophical ideas in America, would also be the
means of communicating information concerning the
scientific work of Europe, and might thus form an
important link between the Old and the New
worlds.
If I interpret your letter correctly, it contains an
offer of a combined position,— partly as teacher, and
partly as co-editor of The Open Court, and corres-
pondent in scientific matters. I would be very glad
to have you make me a definite proposition. . . .
With kind regards to Mr. and Mrs. Underwood,
I am. Yours, very respectfully,
Paul Carus.
La Salle, Jan. 31, 1887.
Dr. Paul Carus, New York:
Dear Sir— Your favor of January 24, reached me
on my return to La Salle. What you write has my
full interest. To what you say in particular regard-
ing The Open Court, I have to answer that Mr. and
Mrs. Underwood are independent editors and man-
agers of the same, though subject to such conditions
as may be hereafter mutually agreed upon; still I
wish to make the path of the editors as smooth as
possible.
* * * But what you wish to carry into effect, the
transplanting of European (especially German)
thought to America, is what I particularly desire.
Very respectfully yours,
Edward C. Hegeler.
# # * *
I herewith close the* evidence on my part — Dr.
Carus has assumad the Editorship of The Open
Court. Our aim is stated at the head of the Edi-
torial department. Edward C. Hegeler.
GUSTAV FREYTAG.
In No. 1 of this journal I informed our readers that
I consider as Gustav Freytag's life-work the presen-
tation of his definite view of immortality as expressed in
the works of this leading author.
In No. 15 of this journal, 1 gave more explicitly my
view of the nature of our soul combining the ideas of
Freytag with those of Hering, Ribot and Noire. I
added that living substance is able to reproduce speech
mechanically in a similar way as the phonograph of
Thomas Edison. It was a special satisfaction to me to
find my position so much strengthened by Max Midler's
lecture, " The Identity of Language and Thought."
The present number of our journal contains the first
part of a careful translation of that novel by Gustav
Freytag, in which he most clearly describes the immor-
tality of our soul in human posterity.
Edward C. Hegeler.
EDITORIAL NOTES.
THE LOST MANUSCRIPT.
Since the founding of The Open Court Mr. Hegeler
has fostered the idea of presenting to our readers Gustav
Freytag's novel, " The Lost Manuscript. " The Open
Court was not founded for the publication of novels;
its immediate purpose is much more serious than to
entertain with charming fiction. Gustav Freytag's
"Lost Manuscript, " however, is a novel that in many
respects answers the purpose of The Open Court.
Freytag has acquired a deep insight into the human soul,
and he presents to his readers the modern psychology in
the form of light novels.
The monistic conception of the soul, was never pre-
sented in a clearer and more popular manner than here.
Whole volumes of psychological research are sometimes
contained in a few pages.
To the reader, the acquaintance with a character
like that of Professor Werner, is like the acquaintance
of a true, high-minded man whose conversation and
mere idle talk frequently are more instructive than
hundreds of books.
In his Memoirs Freytag says, " Although our judg-
ment is at best but imperfect, we are accustomed to
observe and to estimate how life moulds the character of
a man and how it develops his talents. But it is much
more difficult to understand the assistance and the limi-
tations which a living man has received from his parents
and ancestors; for the threads which connect his life and
existence with the souls of past generations, are not
always visible; and even where they can be traced, their
strength cannot always be determined. But it is note-
worthy that the power of their influence is not equally
strong in every life, — sometimes it is formidable and
overwhelming. It is fortunate that what we have
inherited from a distant past, and what we have ourselves
acquired, cannot always be distinguished by every ob-
server. Our lives would be filled with anguish and care if
we, as the descendents of former generations, were obliged
constantly to take their blessing and their curse into con-
sideration. On the other hand, it is pleasant to remem-
THE OPEN COURT.
t>4 i
ber that many successes of our lives became possible
only through the qualities we inherited from our parents,
and also through still older heirlooms which a more
remote generation had prepared for us. "
The grand connection, which links the individual
soul of a man to the souls of others — to the present as
well as to past and future generations, has been depicted
magnificently in " The Lost Manuscript. " The grandeur
of the monistic view, and the religious depth of monistic
psychology, become apparent even to those who have
not yet or who have only imperfectly grasped the truth
of Monism.
The novel has not yet been presented to English
readers, except in an inadequate translation by Mrs.
Malcolm, often so literal as not to convey the meaning
of the original. After a careful revision, and after a
comparison with the original, especially of those parts
which are of deeper and philosophical import, her trans-
lation has been used, so far as it was acceptable.
IT THINKS.
We call the attention of our readers to an odd but
nevertheless very true dictum of Lichtenberg which is
quoted by Prof. Preyer in his Natur-wissenschaftliche
Thatsachen unci Probleme.
" We become conscious of certain concepts or ideas
which do not depend upon us, and of other ideas which
as we suppose do depend upon us. But where is the
limit between the former and the latter? We are aware
of nothing but the existence of our sensations, percep-
tions .and ideas. We should say ' It thinks' just as well
as we say ' It lightens,' ' or ' It rains. ' In saying cogito,
the philosopher goes too far, if he translates it '/ think.'"
The idea contained in this short passage must be
digested, before we can hope to understand the process
of thinking, for it is indeed the leading principle of
modern psychology. Modern psychology looks upon
consciousness not as a cause, but as an effect of many
causes. Consciousness appears to be a simple and ele-
mentary fact, but it is a very intricate and complex
phenomenon, the ultimate constituents of which are our
sensations. And even these sensations are not simple;
they also in their turn are the effects of a wonderful
complication of innumerable causes.
We imagine we think. But thoughts arise in us
according to irrefragable laws. We do not produce
ideas, but ideas produced in the cerebral processes of a
brain become conscious, and thus they produce us. v. c.
TRIBUTES.
BY LEE FAIRCHILD.
BROWNING.
That Browning has, I must confess,
A depth and magnitude;
But legs would be his fame, I guegs,
If he were understood.
LOWELL.
A touch — how delicate is his!
His humor so refined
Its finer shadings those shall miss
Who, seeing, yet are blind.
POE.
What pathos and sublimity;
What mystic woe and pain ;
What hopes forlorn and misery
Make up thy sad refrain!
LONGFELLOW AND WHITTIEK.
They gather, in their simple songs,
Many a common prize
Unhidden from the thoughtful throngs;
In this their greatness lies.
THE CAT.
KRL'MMACHEH.
One day two learned men, who had studied nature
all their lives, and who had spent every day examining
animals of all kinds, and knew how to talk about each
one, sat together discussing beasts and worms, fishes and
birds, and all species of plants and trees, from the cedar of
Lebanon to the hyssop that grows on the wall. Both
were pleased, and complimented each other.
At length, they began to talk about the characteris-
tics and habits of cats. Then they disagreed, and a lively
dispute ensued. For one of them said: "The cat is the
most malicious and noisome animal, false and mischiev-
ous, a tiger in disposition as well as in appearance,
though fortunately not in size and strength, for which
last-named fact we cannot thank and praise Heaven
enough."
But the other said: " The cat may be compared to
the lion; for, besides resembling him in appearance, she
is like him noble and generous; she is cleanly and gentle,
and therefore naturally at enmity with the dirty and
intrusive dog. In short, she is the most useful animal, for
which man cannot thank and praise Heaven enough."
Then the other flew into a passion, for he was fond
of dogs and referred to the dogs of Ulysses, Tobit and
Frederick the Great.
But the other confuted his argument by alluding to
the cats of Leibnitz, the great Philosopher, who had done
so much to enlighten the world and to exalt others in
wisdom and knowledge.
Without coming to any agreement, they parted at
enmity with each other. The one went home to his
aviary; for he kept living birds, some of which the cats
had eaten. The other went to his museum of stuffed
birds and animals, which, to his great vexation, the mice
were destroying. Such are the judgmantg of pasaioa
and egotism.
fM;
THE OPEN COURT
THE EDUCATION OF PARENTS BY THEIR CHIL-
DREN.*
BY CARUS STERNE.
Bret Harte, one of the profoundest psychologists
among modern soul-painters, relates ih his realistic man-
ner, in the little tragic idyl entitled " The Luck of
Roaring Camp," how the birth and early rearing of
an orphaned infant suddenly converts a set of row-
dies and criminals into most tender and solicitous adop-
tive fathers. These men, who have been ostracised by
the community, and who revel in gambling, rioting and
ruffianism, such as can only be found in such a God-
forsaken mining camp, now harbor only the one thought
of insuring the happiness of their " Luck " (thus they
have significantly christened their little legacy) by the
toil of their hands.
Not quite so forcibly, but in the same genial manner,
the American poet has illustrated the paradox " How
the old are educated by the young," in several chapters
of his novel Gabriel Conroy. By his love for children,
the hero of this book is imbued with the spirit of self-
sacrifice; and again Surgeon, Duchesne cures an unmar-
ried actor, whose nervous system has been prostrated by
his arduous profession, by his intercourse with children.
" I haven't seen you stop and talk to a child for a
month," says this practical physician to the professional
actor, Jack Hamlin. " I've a devilish good mind to send
you to a foundling hospital, for the good of the babies
and yourself. Find out some poor ranchero with a
dozen children, and teach 'em singing. Come! Do as
I say, and I'll stop that weariness, dissipate that giddi-
ness, get rid of that pain, lower that pulse, and put you
back where you were."
These views of a great soul interpreter give me
courage to express an opinion which I have always
entertained, — namely, that every child requites much
of the love bestowed upon it by the parents, by making
them better and more perfect beings than they were
before its advent into the family. In fact, the highest
polish, the finishing touches of education, are given peo-
ple neither by home, school, nor church, but 113- their
own children. .Should they be so unfortunate as not to
have any, they will experience difficulties in replacing
this lacking factor in the education of their affections.
Let us take, for example, a young man who has
enjoyed excellent home-training and all the advantages
of a school and university education. He enters upon
life, and, as the poets say, nothing but the influence of
love is lacking to perfect him. At the peril of exposing
myself to the charge of heresy in poetical matters, I
would say, that, according to my observation, success in
love-affairs, far from perfecting, induces wantonness,
vulgarity, and even indifference and insensibility to the
sufferings arising therefrom. For, considering our
* Translated from a volume of essays. Die Krone der Sdwpfung, by Carus
social conditions, is the universal practice of trifling
with the affections of innocent maidens, in which the
vipers of our civilization, the libertines, daily indulge, not
to be denounced as the acme of wickedness ? These
young men are so refined and so tender-hearted as to
avoid crushing a worm ; vet, under the mask of love and
affection, they do not scruple to render one of their
fellow-beings miserable for life. In eighty cases out ois
a hundred they do not even feel themselves obliged to
repair the injury.
Evidently sexual love, per se, does not exercise an
ennobling influence on the mind ; on the contrary, it
hardens the disposition, engenders cruelty, and begets a
desire for destruction, as others besides the so-called Don
Juans have already demonstrated. Only when a firm
union, demanding reciprocal surrender and self-sacrifice,
results from sexual love is it likely to be productive of
good. Even then this bond is scarcely assured, unless off-
spring furnish a living security. In childless wedlock the
enthusiasm of self-sacrifice does not always last. But no
sooner do the mediators appear on the scene than liber-
tines become men in a nobler sense, who detest the
evils of celibacy, and who will not be apt to palliate the
wrongs of which they themselves have been guilty.
Wherein does the wonderful power of an infant lie?
Plainly more in its weakness and helplessness than in its
appearance, which more often resembles a boiled lobster
than a human being. The physical necessity of lidding
herself of the excess of nutriment may contribute much
toward making the little consumer a welcome guest to
the mother. At all events, the parents are fascinated
more by the anticipation of future happiness than by
any personal charms of the little stranger. Beasts of
prey not infrequently devour their first litter, but scarcely
from love. When, however, these little beings have
outgrown their first helpless state and give the first
signs of awakening intelligence — when the first smiles
have been half forced from them — they display an
amiabilitv and charming playfulness which quite fascin-
ate their parents. The delighted mother can now practi-
cally apply to the living toy all the knowledge derived
from her girlish experiences with her dolls. This is the
beo-inning of a life of the most unselfish devotion. The
father (who does not stand in such close relations to the
child) is unconsciously drawn into this magic circle by
his instincts as well as by other circumstances. Chiefly
it is the halo surrounding the young mother, the indes-
cribable expression of blissful exhaustion. Rubens, in
the cycle of pictures illustrating the life ol Maria de'
Medicis, and also Jordan, in a genre picture of the
Zuyder Zee, have given to this the most perfect artistic
expression. It is this condition which produces that
mental attitude by which the baby, from being his
father's rival, becomes his tyrant and absolute master of
the household.
THE ORKN COURT
643
Herewith begins the religious education of mankind,
which is far more effective than that imparted by the
catechism and the pulpit. Out of this parental and filial
love there develops, even in immature minds, a universal
love for humanity. The infant becomes the Saviour —
the earthly father becomes the prototype of the all-wise,
all-bountiful Father in heaven.
The early endeavor to elevate the mother into the
realm of the divine is a deeply-felt and psychologically
well-justified factor in the development of Christian
dogma. It was thus that the mother with the infant on her
lap was made the chief picture at the shrines. The " Holy
Family," so typically portrayed by Raphael, wins all
hearts, even at this day, in Protestant countries, as was
very plainly demonstrated at an art exhibition in Berlin
during the last decade. Knaus, whose genius was a
happy combination of Correggio and Murillo, with a
sprinkling of Rembrandt, exhibited a Madonna
surrounded by the forms of winged and wingless chil-
dren, which deservedly delighted also those who only
have sentiment instead of artistic taste. Beyond doubt,
the "Holy Family" deserves the place of honor at the
altar, for it justly makes the nursery the sanctuary which
produces and constantly feeds the pure flame of love of
man and of God.
Almost all the religious doctrines which add to our
happiness — or, rather, which support us in misfortune
— the belief in immortality, in resurrection and a re-union
after death, have their origin in family life, and the
family has its origin in offspring.
These reflections conclusively prove the great
advance made in civilization by monogamy. For it per-
mits the male sex to share the ennobling influence exerted
by the education of children. Society is therefore fully
justified in antagonizing the doctrine of so-called free-
love, which has found such enthusiastic disciples in the
United States.
The blessings of monogamy are so great that I
should not question the propriety of legislation for
imposing a special tax upon bachelordom, such as some
of the Roman emperors formerly levied upon obesity.
What place, it may be asked, have these sentimental
considerations in the writings of an advocate of the Dar-
winian theory? Perhaps more than is at first apparent.
It seems to me that the animal egotism in man which
threatens to overstep all bounds, exhibits a certain centri-
fugal tendency, and that this tendency would increase
infinitely, were it not for a counteracting centripetal
force, which awakens man to the necessity of voluntarily
adjusting himself to his environment. In all viviparus
and oviparus animals we see examples of this ennobling
intercourse with their young. For instance, the domes-
tic cat, usually decried on account of its egoism, when
suckling her own litter will frequently also nurse the
young of other animals, such as foxes, rabbits, hares, and
even young rats and mice, which at other times she so
relentlessly pursues. When suckling its young, that
most ferocious beast of prey, the tigress, is transformed
into a harmless, playful creature, capable of the utmost
self-sacrifice. To be sure, there is nothing more droll
than young animals of all kinds. The cunning pranks
of young animals make even the most hideous ones ap-
pear fascinating to us.
And, in spite of whatever antipathy we may usually
harbor toward them, the mothers also win our admira-
tion, when we become witnesses of their self-sacrifice.
We see the mothers tear hairs and feathers out of their
breast in order to prepare soft and warm beds for their
young. The viviparus scorpion, which surely is not
credited with any very tender impulses, according to
some accounts, permits its numerous young ones to drain
it of its vital humors; and it visibly decreases in size in
the midst of its rapidly growing progeny. Likewise,
the pelican, which was supposed to feed its young with
its heart's blood, was selected as the symbol of Divine
Love. We cannot but find it natural that female beasts
of prey should courageously defend their young, even
against attacks of the males; on the other hand, we can-
not but be astonished at the heroism displayed by shy
and domestic animals in the protection of their young.
As soon as the danger has been averted, the heroic
mother is again a child among children — she plays with
them just as one plays with dolls. And so a child is the
toy of toys that softens the most callous hearts and
makes children of old people who already stand on the
brink of eternity.
(To be concluded.)
CORRESPONDENCE.
TRADE-UNIONS AND MONOPOLY.
To the Editor :
I regard The Open Court as the best philosophical journal
in America, but would be better pleased (as, I presume, the major-
ity of vour readers would also) to see more discussion of social
and economic problems in its columns. " Wheelbarrow's " arti-
cles are pleasing, but, I fear, sadly wanting in many instances of
seeing things in the light they present themselves to me.
He condemns trade-unions because they monopolize the
trades and restrict apprenticeship. I grant this; but in the pres-
ent social condition there is no other way in which competition
can be restricted. It is, at its best, purely and simply monopoly.
Where there is no attempt at social regulation, the only natural
remedy tor monopoly is counter-monopoly and cooperation.
When skilled workmen combine to prevent competition, it is
merely " a typical illustration of the manner in which intelligence
ever seeks the protection of its own interests regardless of the
interests of others." There is no use in bewailing the "beneficent
law of mutual assistance " when we consider that all men will
" under all circumstances seek their; greatest gain," and to do
this they must pool their interests the same as monopolists. To
all men the more wages they secure for their labor means more
enjoyment, more happiness. And the inequality of the distribu-
tion of wealth will be so until the intelligence of the producer is
&44
THE OPEN COURT.
equal to that of the non-producer, or until the altruistic functions
have become so enlarged as to make the amount of pain in 6eeing
our fellows in distress greater than the amount of pleasure derived
from articles of enjoyment they have created, and which have
been secured by mental aggrandizement.
"Wheelbarrow" says: "The companies monopolize the
profit of telegraphing; the operators monopolize the art." Monop-
olizing the art is only a means employed by intelligent workmen
to create an artificial adjustment of natural tendencies. The fun-
damental principle is to force from the employer a greater wage
than if the workmen worked in severalty and competition reduced
wages to the lowest point that workmen would consent to live on.
Skilled workmen are, for the most part, relatively more
intelligent than unskilled workmen; and it is from this fact that
they suppress competition. Competition is the enemy of cooper-
ation, and always will be; and it is on that ground that trade-
unions restrict apprentices. But there is not always an unreason-
able restriction. The most conservative and intelligent trade
organization in America is the International Typographical Union
and it restricts apprentices to one to every five journevmen
This is not an unreasonable restriction.
As to the "dignity of labor," that is simply a matter of inteL
ligence, and will be 60 "as long as capital and labor remain the
respective symbols of intelligence and ignorance." The whole
foundation of the inequality of the distribution of wealth is merelv
one of relative ignorance and relative intelligence. This is caused
by the inequality of the distribution of knowledge. " Wheelbar-
row " says, truly, " we must all work together "; but how? This
is the rub. It is the distinction between science and art. We all
understand that it is to the interest of producers to combine. We
have that knowledge; but do we know how to apply that knowl-
edge? We must have a knowledge of -vays as well as things
Lester F. Ward says: "To do depends upon knowing, but in order
to do men must know how."
The capitalists have been eminently successful in receiving a
greater proportion of wealth than they are justly entitled to, because
they knew how. The capitalists have bent the inferior intelligence
of the laborer-service because they are more intelligent, not because
they have a greater intellectual capacity. This is the greatest evil
under which society labors. "This is because it places it in the
power of a small number," says Lester F. Ward, "having no
greater intellectual capacity, and no natural right or title, to seek
their happiness at the expense of a large number. The large
number, deprived of the means of intelligence, though born with a
capacity for it, are really compelled by the small number, through
the exercise of a superior intelligence, to serve them Without com-
pensation."— {Dynamic Sociology, Vol. II., p. 602.) This is the
ultimate analysis of the unequal distribution of wealth. For it is
not the idler but the toiler, the real producer of wealth, who has
none; while the man who has wealth is often the man of leisure
— enjoying wealth he never toiled to create. The toiler occupies
his position in consequence of his relative intelligence, while the
idler occupies his in consequence of his relative intelligence.
When we consider this, we can conceive the scope of that great
truth — " Knowledge is power." " To prevent inequality of advan-
tages there must be equality of power, equality of knowledge."
Of the thousand arts and subtle ways used by capitalists, the
most subtle is the art of making acts appear bad and criminal
when done by the laboring class, and proper when done by the
employing class. They obscure their identity by different names
and make them appear different things. To illustrate, let us take
the. case of cooperation. Mr. Ward says: " Owing to the inherent
character of the social forces as exemplified throughout the work-
ings of nature and of human nature, one of the means of increas-
ing power to secure desired ends * * * was the union of
many individuals for the joint accomplishment of a common
object, which intelligence taught them could not be accomplished
by action in severalty." — (Dynamic Sociology, Vol. II., p. 603.)
This the basi6 of society, government, trade-unions, and of all the
great industrial and commercial enterprises of the world. It is a
true principle, as in no other way could any great results be
achieved. The consequence has been that the intelligent class
cooperate, and by means of cooperation become capitalists and
employers; while the ignorant class work individually and inde-
pendent, and have been and are compelled to turn over to the
capitalists the greater part of the value they have created without
an equivalent.
In modern times capitalists maintain their hold upon the
fruits of the toilers' labor by preventing them from knowing their
own interests. This is chiefly done by establishing influential
organs and moulding public opinion. The laboring classes have
few avenues of communication, and perhaps cannot use them.
Those of the laboring classes who can read at all read the organs
of the capitalists, and not being sufficiently intelligent to penetrate
their sophisms, they hear only one side of the question, and gen-
erally acquiesce in the views of capitalistic organs. So much has
this perversion been carried on in this century that Thomas Jef-
ferson said, in 1S07: " Nothing can now be believed which is seen
in a newspaper. Truth itself becomes suspicious by being put in
that polluted vehicle. * * * The man who never looks into a
newspaper is better informed than he who reads them."
Cooperation on the part of capitalists does not go by that
name; it is simply recognized as the only way to do business.
Any attempt on the part of the laboring classes, however, to
cooperate is called a crime against society! As our government
and society cooperate on the same basis as monopolists, and care
not for other governments or other lower societies, on the basis
that it is a monopoly, " Wheelbarrow" might try to abolish them.
We must expect selfishness, and not much altruism, in the eco-
nomic and social spheres. But that selfishness which can see its
own interests by superior intelligence, and seeks to unite together
all who labor for its own interests, is a great blessing to the com-
munity. For every toiler to see his own interests we must have
universal education. Education is the salvation of society.
Harry C. Long.
REPLY BY WHEELBARROW.
To the Editor: Chicago, Dec. 9, 1887.
Appreciating your kindness in submitting Mr. Long's criti-
cism to me for any remarks upon it that I might care to make, I
will notice a few points in his argument. Much of what he says
must go unanswered, because it is too intricate, involved, and
metaphysical for me. It is, no doubt, all right enough according
to the principles of Dynamic Sociology, but as I have not the
least idea what Dynamic Sociology is, I can only reply to so much
of Mr. Long's criticism as is within my sphere of knowledge.
Mr. Long says, " Wheelbarrow's articles are pleasing, but I fear
sadly wanting, in many instances, of seeing things in the light they
present themselves to me." There is a modest self-denial in that
" fear " which reminds me of an old friend, who, whenever he
dissented in conversation, used to say to the other man, " Now,
there's where you and I differ, which, ' I fear,' puts you prima
facie in the wrong."
Mr. Long defends the monopoly features of the trades unions,
and the rules by which they limit the number of apprentices in
the various trades. According to him the ethics of trades unions
is pure selfishness and the right of tyranny; the duty of the
"skilled " to prohibit learning. According to him the golden rule
is, " Do others, for they would do you." Here is a curious distor-
tion of moral doctrine: "When skilled workmen combine to pre-
vent competition, it is merely a typical illustration of the manner
in which intelligence ever seeks the protection of its own interests
THE OPEN COURT.
6.4 s
regardless of the interests of others." This is so obviously incor-
rect that at first I thought "intelligence" was a misprint for
" ignorance," but on reading further I found that it was not. True,
there is a grade of intelligence allied to animal cunning which
does "seek the protection of its own interests regardless of the
interests of others," but this is not the intelligence of civilized man.
Mr. Long confesses that trades unions restrict apprentices,
but, he says, "there is not always an unreasonable restriction.
The most conservative and intelligent trade organization in Amer-
ica is the International Typographical Union, and it restricts
apprentices to one to every five journeymen. This is not an
unreasonable restriction." A little moral intelligence would show
the International Typographical Union that any restriction what-
ever is not only unreasonable but barbarous. The Typographical
Union has no more right to withhold from any boy the art of earn-
ing bread than it has to cut off his finger and thus disable him
from setting type. If that is the most intelligent trade organiza-
tion in America, what must the others be?
When the bookkeepers form themselves into a " union," they
will require that only one boy to five bookkeepers shall be allowed
to learn arithmetic. Their restriction will be quite as " intelli-
gent" as that of the Typographical Union. It will not be any
more " unreasonable." I have said before, and I repeat it here,
that the men who would enslave others easily become slaves. This
has been demonstrated in Chicago within the present week, and,
curiously too, by the Typographical Union. The working print-
ers " struck," and the masters combined against them. After
being " out " some time the printers yielded, and offered to go
back to work, but the masters refused to take them back unless
they "signed the document," the "iron-clad" surrender of their
freedom. In imposing this condition the masters subjected theii
workmen to a shocking degradation. Their act was an act of des-
potism only equalled by that other intolerance which forbids an
honest boy to learn an honest trade. The masters offer as an excuse
for their tyranny that they must either subjugate their workmen
or be subjugated by them. A very small allowance of "intelli-
gence " would show both parties that this alternative is not nec-
essary. But it must be that kind of intelligence which knows
justice when it sees it, and which amounts to a moral perception
strong enough to see that freedom to oppress others is not liberty.
The rest of Mr. Long's criticism appears to be aimed at some-
thing up in the air, with which I have nothing to do. It is some
thing " on the wing," for the aim is wandering and unsteady. It
may be Dynamic Sociology of the most orthodox quality, foi
aught I know, but the argument is difficult and obscure; while some
of the sentences appear to be destitute of meaning, so that I can-
not tell whether I agree with the writer or not; especially as they
seem to have but a "relative" reference to anything I wrote. For
example, this: " As to the 'dignity of labor,' that is simply a
matter of intelligence, and will be so as long as capital and labor
remain the respective symbols of intelligence and ignorance. The
whole foundation of the inequality of the distribution of wealth
is merely one of relative ignorance and relative intelligence.
This is caused by the inequality of the distribution o( knowledge."
That reads like a rhetorical involution from the ponderous wis-
dom of Jack Bunsby. Whether it means anything or not, it ha<
no application to the argument, and therefore I am not called
upon to answer it. Yours,
Wheelbarrow.
BOOK REVIEWS.
On parent knees, a naked new-born child,
Weeping thou sat'st, while all around thee smiled ;
So live, that, sinking in thy last long sleep,
Calm thou mav'st .smile, while all around thee weep.
^Sir Jones: from thf -Persian.
Our Heredity from God.— E. P. Powell. D. Appleton & Co.,
New York.
Mr. Powell's book is attracting wide and deserved attention
and is destined, we think, to make a place for itself next in rank
to the works of John Fiske, as a popular, but careful and intelli
gent exposition of the evolution philosophy. It is, however,
something more than a summary of Spencer; in fact is not a sum-
mary at all, but rather the original and patiently wrought result
of a mind working in the field of scientific philosophy, but work-
ing always after its own individual methods, with perfect fearless-
ness, and a frank determination to accept nothing but the truth.
This mental independence is observed on every page, and occa-
sionally over-reaches itself, as a man bent on preserving a per-
fectly erect position, will sometimes tip a little backwards. Mr.
Powell is a convert from evangelical Christianity to scientific
rationalism. His passage from one to the other was a painful one
and signs of mental conflict appear throughout his book, especially
n the emphatic— sometimes impatient — opposition which he shows,
towards the older forms of faith, and which has led some of the
critics, we think not unjustly, to accuse him of whipping a man
of straw. With exception of this not-very-important criticism, we
have only words of praise and welcome for Mr. Powell's book. It
is a work which will serve the needs both of the advanced student
in evolution and the beginner. The first will find in it a clear and
succinct review of principles he is already familiar with, together
with an admirable summing up of the ethical and religious aspects
of the questions dealt with, while the younger student will be
equally profited by the general scheme of the book, which aims to
present the reader with a clear outline of the leading principles of
the Synthetic philosophy. The book speaks for itself in the table
of contents. It is divided into three parts. The first sums up
"the leading arguments in favor of evolution, as accounting for
structural variety and explaining the actual condition of living
creatures." This part consists of eight -lectures on such topics as
"The Unity of Nature," with three lectures following, dealing
with the arguments from geography, geology and anatomy.— One
of the most interesting of the succeeding chapters in this portion
of the book is that on "The Power of Mimicry." Speaking of the
power of some of the lower forms of life to defend themselves
against harmful attack by assuming a likeness to their surround-
ings which enables them to escape observation, as the plum
curculio rolls itself up into the shape of a dry bud and falls to the
ground. Mr. Powell says that "Nature is charged everywhere
with the idea of escape and self-preservation,"— and man's desire
for salvation is an instinct fairly inherited from life's lowest forms-
"Among lower creatures, those that least assimilate to environ-
ments are destroyed— but with moral beings the assimilation re-
quired is that of character. He is most safe who becomes most
like the Supreme Good." In the concluding chapter of Part I, on
"Degeneration" we are shown how evolution is "a struggle that
in many cases involves failure, in some, success; but in long
reaches of time establishes a steadily increasing increment of
sjain." Part II is employed in showing "the commonality of life
Detween all creatures," and Part III follows evolution after
man is reached, tracing the "rise of intelligence and morals out of
and above all preceding development, until we reach the great
questions of God and immortality." Mr. Powell is a believer in
both, though in respect to the first his views partake of a fine
abstract theism which prefers to dissociate itself from all formal
religious exercise. Mr. Powell bases his belief in continued
existence after death on the principle that with the appearance of
man a new factor is introduced into evolution. The creation of
man was not an accidental circumstance, but stands rather as the
crowning moral event in the universe. His annihilation would
646
THE OPEN COURT.
render the entire system of things meaningless, and a cruel satire.
Mr. Powell deprecates as much as anyone the false ideas of
human profit and recompense attaching to the old idea of immor-
tality, which has done more harm than good ; yet having become
a part of the world's "moral causation," man has demonstrated his
right to final preservation. "If man has attained a possible
eternal ought toward God, has not God the same ought in his
relation toman?" Space does not permit us to give Mr. Powell's
argument in its full force and meaning, but enough has been
given to indicate its general nature and direction. To us it is at
once the most striking and persuasive presentation of the question
we have ever read ; and the chapter which deals with this difficult
but enticing subject, full of snares and pitfalls to the unwary, is a
fitting conclusion to a work, strong, healthful, and inspiring
throughout. c. p. w.
The Ethical Import of Darwinism. By y. G. Schurman,
Professor of Philosophy in Cornell University.
As is so frequently the case, the adherents of a new theory
endeavor to give it the very broadest application, until it almost
vanishes in a misty universality. A similar fate has befallen the
doctrine of evolution, which now is, as our author says, "a mixture
of science and speculation, ot fact and fancy."
In this exceedingly interesting and readable book, Professor
Schurman endeavors to distinguish between science and specula-
tion in the application of Darwinism to morals. In the first
chapter an attempt is made to determine under what conditions
alone ethics can become a science. The second chapter is devoted
to an exposition of the Darwinian theory and the general doctrine
of evolution. Then follow chapters on the ethical bearing of
Darwinism. In the rest of the book the conclusion is reached
that a scientific study of ethics can be constructed only by adopting
the historical method.
This book, written in such a delightful and admirably clear style
is the very best proof of Professor Schurman's belief " that there
is no theory, or criticism, or system (not even Kant's or Hegel's)
that cannot be clearly expressed in a language which in Locke's
hands was strong and homely, in Berkeley's rich and subtle, in
Hume's easy, graceful, and finished, and in all three alike plain,
transparent, and unmistakable."
The Revue de Belgique for November contains, besides other
valuable articles, an interesting essay, " Monsieur Moi," translated
from the Italian by Salvatore Farina. Another essav, which
merited more attention than we could devote to it, is the one by
Aug. Gitte^e, entitled " La Rime d'Enfant." It seems to be full of
fine thought and pretty examples of the poetry of the nursery;
those in the Flemish and Walloon dialects have an additional
philological value.
Seldom has a magazine met with such immediate and pro-
nounced success as Scribner's, which has just completed its first
year. The illustrations have steadily improved, and the publishers
promise that during iSSS they will be better than ever. The
series of papers which Robert Louis Stevenson will contribute
during the coming year will, no doubt, do much toward increasing
the circulation of this already very popular magazine.
The Century Magazine for December prints how a very
timely article "The Sea of Galilee," by Edward L. Wilson. The
chapter in the Lincoln biography by Nicola)' and Hay treats of
Lincoln's Inauguration. Those readers who take an intelligent
interest in the affairs of Russia will be pleased with George Ken-
nan's essav, Prison Life of the Russian Revolutionists.
In this wild world the fondest and the best
Are the most tried, most troubled and distressed.
— Crabbe.
THE LOST MANUSCRIPT.
BY C.USTAV FREYTAO.
CHAPTER I.
A DISCOVERY.
In the outskirts of a German university town loom
up in the evening dusk two stately houses, in which
dwell two landlords who are tax-payers and active
workers. At night they cover with warm blankets;
they are worthy men, but have their whims; and they
estimate the value of the moon exactly in proportion
to the amount of gas saved by her light.
A lamp, placed close to the window, shines from
one of the upper rooms in the house on the left hand.
Here lives Professor Felix Werner, a learned philolo-
gist, still a young man who has already earned a reputa-
tion. He sits at his study table and examines old, faded
manuscripts — an attractive looking man of medium size,
with dark, curly hair falling over a massive head; there
is nothing paltry about him. Clear, honest eyes shine
from under the dark eyebrows; the nose is slightly
arched; the muscles of the mouth are strongly devel-
oped, as may be expected of the popular teacher of young
students. Just now a soft smile spreads over it, and his
cheeks redden either from his work or from inward
emotion.
The Professor suddenly left his work and paced
restlessly up and down his room. He then approached
a window which looked out on the neighboring house,
placed two large books on the window sill, laid a small
one upon them, and thus produced a figure which resem-
bled a Greek rr, and which, from the light shining behind
became visible to the eye in the house opposite. After
he had arranged this signal, he hastened back to the
table and again bent over his book.
The servant entered gently to remove the supper,
which had been placed on a side table. Finding the
food untouched, he looked with displeasure at the Pro-
fessor, and for a long while remained standing behind the
vacant chair. At length, assuming a military attitude,
he said, " Professor, you have forgotten your supper."
" Clear the table, Gabriel," said the Professor.
Gabriel showed no disposition to move. " Pro-
fessor, you should at least eat a bit of cold meat. Noth-
ing can come of nothing," he added, kindly.
" It is not right that you should come in and dis-
turb me."
Gabriel took the plate and carried it to his master.
" Pray, Professor, take at least a few mouthfuls."
" Give it to me then," said he, and began to eat.
Gabriel made use of the time during which his
master unavoidably paused in his intellectual occupation,
to make a respectful admonition. " My late Captain
thought much of a good supper."
" But now you have changed into the civil service,"
answered the Professor, laughing.
THE OPEN COURT.
647
" It is not right," continued Gabriel, pertinaciously,
"that I should eat the roast that I bring for you."
"I hope you are now satisfied," answered the Pro-
fessor, pushing the plate back to him.
Gabriel shrugged his shoulders. " V'ou have at least
done your best. The Doctor was not at home."
" So I perceive. See to it that the front-door
remains open."
Gabriel turned about and went away with- the plate.
The scholar was again alone. The golden light of
the lamp fell on his countenance and on the books
which lay around him; the white pages rustled under
his hand ; and his features worked with strong excite-
ment.
There was a knock at the door; the expected visitor
entered.
"Good evening, Fritz," said the Professor to his
visitor; "sit in my chair, and look here."
The guest, a man of slender form, with delicate
features, and wearing spectacles, obeying, seated himself,
and seized a little book which lay in the middle of a
number of open volumes of every age and size. With
the eye of a connoisseur he examined first the cover —
discolored parchment, upon which was written old
church hymns with the accompanying music. He cast
a searching glance on the inside of the binding, and
inspected the strips of parchment by which the poorly-
preserved back of the book was joined to the cover. He
then examined the first page of the contents, on which,
in faded characters, was written, " The Life of the Holy
Hildegard." "The handwriting is that of a writer of
the fifteenth century," he exclaimed, and looked inquir-
ingly at his friend.
" It is not on that account that I show you the old
book. Look further. The Life is followed by prayers,
a number of recipes and household regulations, written
in various hands, even before the time of Luther. I
had bought this manuscript for you, thinking you might
perhaps find material for your legends and popular
superstitions. But on looking through it, I met with
the following passage on one of the last pages, and I
cannot yet part with the book. It seems that the book
has been used in a monastery by many generations to
note down memoranda, for on this page there is a cata-
logue of all the church treasures of the Monastery Ros-
sau. It was a poverty-stricken monastery ; the inven-
tory is either small or incomplete. It was made by an
ignorant monk, and, as the writing testifies, about the
year 1500. See, here are entered church utensils and
a few ecclesiastical dresses; and further on some theo-
logical manuscripts of the monastery, of no importance
to us, but amongst them the following title: ' Das alt
ungehiir fuoch von ussfahrt des sioigers.7"
The Doctor examined the words with curiosity.
" That sounds like the title of a tale of chivalry. And
what do the words themselves mean? 'The old,
immense book of the exit or departure of the sioiger?
Does sicigcr here mean son-in-law or a tacit man?"
" Let us try to solve the riddle," continued the Pro-
fessor, with sparkling eyes, pointing with his finger to
the same page. "A later hand has added in Latin,
' This book is Latin, almost illegible; it begins with the
words lacrimas ct stgna, and ends with the words — here
concludes the history — adorum — thirtieth book.' Now
guess."
The Doctor looked at the excited features of his
friend. " Do not keep me in suspense. The first words
sound very promising, but they are not a title; some
pages in the beginning may be deficient."
"Just so," answered the Professor, with satisfaction.
" We may assume that one or two pages are missing.
In the fifth chapter of the Annals Tacitus there are
the words lacrimas ct signal
The Doctor sprang up, and a flush of joy overspread
his face.
" Sit down," continued the Professor, forcing his
friend back into the chair. " The old title of the Annals
of Tacitus, when translated, appears literally ' Tacitus,
beginning with the death of the divine Augustus.'
Well, an ignorant monk deciphered perhaps the first
Latin words of the title, ' Taciti ab excessit,"1 and endeav-
ored to translate it into German ; he was pleased to
know that tacitus meant schzvcigsam (silent), but had
never heard of the Roman historian, and rendered it in
these words, literally, as ' From the exit of the tacit
man.' "
"Excellent!" exclaimed the Doctor. "And the
monk, delighted with the successful translation, wrote
the title on the manuscript? Glorious! the manuscript
was a Tacitus."
" Hear further," proceeded the Professor. " In the
third and fourth century A. D., both the great works of
Tacitus, the 'Annals' and 'History,' were united in a
collection under the title, ' Thirty Books of History.'
For this we have other ancient testimony. Look here!"
The Professor found well-known passages, and
placed them before his friend. " And, again, at the
end of the manuscript record there were these words:
' Here ends the Thirtieth Book of the History.' There
remains, therefore, no doubt that this manuscript was a
Tacitus. And looking at the thing as a whole, the
following appears to have been the case: At the time
of the Reformation there was a manuscript of Tacitus
in the Monastery of Rossau, the beginning of which
was missing. It was old and injured by time, and almost
illegible to the eyes of the monks."
"There must have been something peculiar attaching
to the book," interrupted the Doctor, "for the monk
designates it by the expression, lUngcheucr^ which
conveys the meaning of extraordinary."
*64S
THE OPEN COURT.
" It is true," agreed the Professor. " We may assume
that some monastic tradition which has attached to the
book, or an old prohibition to read it, or, more probably,
the unusual aspect of its cover, or its size, has given rise
to this expression. The manuscript contains both the
historical works of Tacitus, the books of which were
numbered continuously. And we," he added, in his
excitement throwing the book which he held in his hand
on the table, "we no longer possess this manuscript.
Neither of the historical works of the great Roman
have been preserved in its entirety ; for the sum of all the
gaps would fully equal one-half of what has come down
to us."
The Professor's friend paced the room hurriedly.
" This is one of the discoveries that quicken the bjood in
one's veins. Gone and lost forever ! It is exasperating
to think how nearly such a precious treasure of antiquity
was preserved to us. It has escaped fire, devastation,
and the perils of cruel war; it was still in existence when
the dawn of a new civilization burst upon us, happily
concealed and unheeded, in the German monastery, not
many miles from the great high road along which the
humanitarians wandered, with visions of Roman glory
in their minds, seeking after every relic of the
Roman time. Universities flourished in the immediate
vicinity; and how easily could one of the friars of
Rossau have informed the students of their treasure. It
seems incomprehensible that not one of the many
scholars of the country should have obtained information
concerning the book, and pointed out to the monks the
value of such a monument. But, instead of this, it is
possible that some contemporary of Erasmus and
Melanchthon, some poor monk, sold the manuscript to
a book-binder, and strips of it may still adhere to some
old book-cover. But, even in this case, the discovery is
important. Evidently this little book has procured a
painful pleasure for you."
The Professor clasped the hand of his friend, and
each looked into the honest countenance of the other.
" Let us assume," concluded the Doctor, sorrowfully,
"that the old hereditary enemy of preserved treasures,
fire, had consumed the manuscript — is it not childish
that we should feel the loss as if it had occurred to-day ? "
" Who tells us that the manuscript is irretrievably
lost?" rejoined the Professor, with suppressed emotion.
" Once more consult the book; it can tell us also of the
fate of the manuscript."
The Doctor rushed to the table, and seized the little
book of the Holy Hildegard.
"Here, after the catalogue," said the Professor, show-
ing him the last page of the book, "there is still more."
The Doctor fixed his eyes on the page. Latin
characters without meaning or break were written in
seven successive lines; under them was a name — F.
Tobias Bachhuber.
" Compare these letters with the Latin annotation
under the the title of the mysterious manuscript. It is
undoubtedly the same hand, firm characters of the
seventeenth century; compare the 's,' ' r,' and 'f.'"
" It is the same hand!" exclaimed the Doctor with
satisfaction.
" The letters without sense are a cypher, such as was
used in the seventeenth century. In that case it is easily
solved; each letter is exchanged with the one that
follows. On this bit of paper I have put together the
Latin words. The translation is, 'On the approach of
the ferocious Swedes, in order to withdraw the treasures
of our monastery from the search of these roaring devils, I
have deposited them all in a dry, hollow place in the house
at Bielstein.' The day Quasimodogeniti 37 — that is on
the 19th April, 1637. What do you say now, Fritz? It
appears from this that in the time of the Thirty Years'
War the manuscript had not been burned, for Frater
Tobias Bachhuber — blest be his memory! — had at that
time vouchsafed to look upon it with some consideration,
and as in the record he had favored it with an especial
remark, he probably did not leave it behind in his flight.
The mysterious manuscript was thus in the Monastery
>_f Rossau till 1637, an^ tne friar) m tne April of that
.ear, concealed it and other goods from the Swedes in a
i.cllow and dry spot in Castle Bielstein."
" Now the matter becomes serious!" cried the Doctor.
" Yes, it is serious, my friend ; it is not impossible that
the manuscript may still lie concealed somewhere."
" And Castle Bielstein? "
" Lies near the little town of Rossau. The monastery
was in needy circumstances, and under ecclesiastical
protection till the Thirty Years' War. In 1637 the town
and monastery were ravaged by the Swedes; the last
monks disappeared and the monastery was never again
re-established. That is all I have been able to learn up
to this time; for anything further I request your help."
" The next question will be whether the castle
outlasted the war," answered the Doctor, " and what has
become of it now. It will be more difficult to ascertain
where Brother Tobias Bachhuber ended his days, and
most difficult of all to discover through what hands
his little book has reached us."
" I obtained the book from an antiquary here; it was
a new acquisition, and not yet entered in his catalogue.
To-morrow I will obtain any further information which
the book- seller may be able to give. It will, perhaps, be
worth while to investigate further," he continued, more
coolly, endeavoring to restrain his intense excitement by
a little rational reflection. " More than two centuries
have elapsed since that cypher was written by the friar;
during that period the destructive powers were not less
active than formerly. Just think of the war and
devastation of the years when the charter was destroyed.
And so we have gained nothing."
THE OPEN COURT.
649
" And yet the probability that the manuscript is
preserved to the present day increases with every
century," interposed the Doctor; "for the number of
men who would value such a discovery has increased so
much since that war, that destruction from rude
ignorance has become almost incredible."
" We must not trust too much to the knowledge of
the present day," said the Professor; "but if it weie so,"
he continued, his eyes flashing, " if the imperial history
of the first century, as written by Tacitus, were restored
by a propitious fate, it would be a gift so great that the
thought of the possibility of it might well, like Roman
wine, intoxicate an honest man."
" Invaluable," assented the Doctor, " for our
knowledge of the language, for a hundred particulars
of Roman history."
"For the most ancient history of Germany!"
exclaimed the Professor.
Both traversed the room with rapid steps, shook
hands, and looked at each other joyfully.
" And if a fortunate accident should put us on the
track of this manuscript," began Fritz, " if through you
it should be restored to the light of day, you, my friend)
you are best fitted to edit it. The thought that you
would experience such a pleasure, and that a work of
such renown would fall to your lot, makes me happier
than I can say."
" If we can find the manuscript," answered the
Professor, " we must edit it together."
"Together?" exclaimed Fritz, with surprise.
"Yes, together," said the professor, with decision;
" it would make your ability widely known."
Fritz drew back. " How can you think that I can
be so presumptuous?"
" Do not contradict me," exclaimed the Professor,
"you are perfectly fit for it."
"That I am not," answered Fritz, firmly; " and I
am too proud to undertake anything for which I should
have to thank your kindness more than my own powers."
"That is undue modesty," again exclaimed the
Professor.
"I shall never do it," answered Fritz. "I could not
for one moment think of adorning myself before the
public with borrowed plumage."
"I know better than you," said the Professor,
indignantly, " what you are able to do, and what is to
your advantage."
" At all events, I would never agree, that you should
have the lion's share of the labor and secretly be deprived
of the reward. Not my modesty, but my self-respect
forbids this. And this feeling you ought to respect,"
concluded Fritz, with great energy.
"Now," returned the Professor, restraining his
excited feelings, " we are behaving like the man who
bought a house and field with the money procured by
the sale of a calf which was not yet born. Be calm,
Fritz; neither I nor you will edit the manuscript."
" And we shall never know how the Roman
Emperor treated the ill-fated Thusnelda and Thum-
elicus!" said Fritz, sympathizingly to his friend.
"But it is not the absence of such particulars," said
the Professor, " that makes the loss of the manuscript so
greatly felt, for the main facts may be obtained from
other sources. The most important point will always be,
that Tacitus was the first, and in many respects is the
only, historian who has portrayed the most striking and
gloomy phases of human nature. His works that are
extant are two historical tragedies, scenes in the Julian
and Flavian imperial houses — fearful pictures of the
enormous change which, in the course of a century, took
place in the greatest city of antiquity, in the character of
its emperors and the souls of their subjects — the history
of tyrinnical rule, which exterminated a noble race,
destroyed a high and rich civilization, and degraded, with
few exceptions, even the rulers themselves. We have,
even up to the present day, scarcely another work whose
author looks so searchingly into the souls of a whole
succession of princes, and which describes so acutely and
accurately the ruin which was wrought in different na-
tures by the fiendish and distempered minds of the kings."
" It always makes me angry," said the Doctor, "when
I hear him reproached as having for the most part written
only imperial and court history. Who can expect grapes
from a cypress, and satisfactory enjoyment in the grand
public life of a man who, during a great portion of his
manhood, daily saw before his eves the dagger and
poison-cup of a mad despot?"
"Yes," agreed the Professor, "Tacitus belonged to
the aristocracy. Who could write the history of the
Roman princes, but one of their own circle? The
blackest crimes were concealed behind the stone walls of
the palace; rumor, the low murmur of the antechamber,
the lurking look of concealed hatred, were often the only
sources of the historian."
" All that remains for us to do is discreetly to accept
the judgment of the man who has delivered to us
information concerning this strange condition of things.
Moreover, whoever studies the fragments of Tacitus that
have been preserved, impartially and intelligently, will
honor and admire his profound insight into the utmost
depths of the Roman character. It is an experienced
statesman of a powerful and truthful mind relating
the secret history of his time so clearly that we
understand the men and all their doings as if we our-
selves had the opportunity of reading their hearts. He
who can do this for later centuries is not only a great
historian but a most invaluable man. And for such I
always felt a deep, heartfelt reverence, and I consider it
the duty of a true critic to clear such a character from
the attacks of petty minds."
65o
THE OPEN COURT.
"Hardly one of his contemporaries," said the Doc-
tor, "has felt the poverty of the culture of his own time
as deeply as himself."
"Yes," rejoined the Professor, "he was a genuine
man, so far as was possible in his time; and that is, after
all, the main point. For what we must demand, is not
the amount of knowledge for which we have to thank
a great man, but his own personality, which, through
what he has produced for us, becomes a portion
of ourselves. Thus the spirit of Aristotle is some-
thing different to us than the substance of his teaching.
For us Sophocles signifies much more than seven trage-
dies. His manner of thinking and feeling, his percep-
tion of the beautiful and the good, ought to become part
of our life. Only in this way does the study of the
past healthily influence our actions and our aspirations.
In this sense the sad and sorrowful soul of Tacitus is far
more to me than his delineation of the Emperor's mad-
ness. And you see, Fritz, it is on this account that
your Sanscrit and Indian languages are not satisfactory
to me — the men are wanting in them."
" It is, at least, difficult for us to recognize them,"
answered his friend. " But one who, like you, explains
Homer's epics to students, should not undervalue the
charm that lies in sounding the mysterious depths of
human activity, when a youthful nation conceals from
our view the work of the individual man, and when the
people itself comes before us in poetry, traditions, and
law, assuming the shape of a living individuality."
" He who only engages in such researches,"
answered the Professor, eagerly, " soon becomes fan-
tastic and visionary. The study of such ancient times
acts like opium, and he who lingers all his life in such
studies will hardly escape vagaries."
Fritz rose. " That is our old quarrel. I know you
do not wish to speak harshly to me, but I feel that you
intend this for me."
"And am I wrong?" continued the Professor. "I
undoubtedly have a respect for every intellectual work,
but I desire for my friend that which will be most bene-
ficial to him. Your investigations into Indian and Ger-
man mythology entice you from one problem to another;
youthful energies should not linger in the endless
domain of indistinct contemplations and unreal shadows.
Come to a decision for other reasons also. It does not
behoove you to be merely a private student; such a life is
too easy for you; you need the outward pressure of
definite duties. You have many of the qualities requi-
site for a professor. Do not remain in your parents'
house; you must become a university lecturer."
A heightened color spread slowly over the face of
his friend. "Enough," he exclaimed, vexed; "if I
have thought too little of my future, you should not
reproach me for it. It has perhaps been too great a
pleasure to me to be your companion and the confidant
of your successful labors. I also, from my intercourse
with you, have enjoyed that pleasure which an intel-
lectual man bestows upon all who participate in his
creations. Good night."
The Professor approached him, and seizing both
his hands, exclaimed, " Stay ! Are you angry with me ? "
"No," answered Fritz, "but I am going;" and he
closed the door gently.
The Professor paced up and down excitedly,
reproaching himself for his vehemence. At length he
violently threw the books which had served as a signal
back on the shelf, and again seated himself at his desk.
Gabriel lighted the Doctor down the stairs, opened
the door, and shook his head when he heard his "good
night" answered curtly. He extinguished the light and
listened at his master's door. When he heard the Pro-
fessor's steps, he determined to refresh himself by the
mild evening air, and descended into the little garden.
There he met Herr Hummel, who was walking under
the Professor's windows. Herr Hummel was a broad-
shouldered man, with a large head and determined face,
wealthy and well-preserved, of honest and old Franco-
nian type. He smoked a thick-headed long pipe, on
which was a row of small knobs.
" A fine evening, Gabriel," began Herr Hummel,
"a good season ; what a harvest we shall have!" He
nudged the servant. "Has anything happened up there?
The window is open," he concluded significantly, and
disapprovingly shook his head.
" He has closed the window again," answered
Gabriel, evasively. " The bats and the moths become
troublesome, and when he argues with the Doctor they
both grow so loud that people in the street stop and
listen."
" Circumspection is always wise," said Herr Hum-
mel; " but what was the matter? The Doctor is the
son of the man over yonder, and you know my opinion
of them, Gabriel — I do not trust them. I do not wish
to injure any one, but I have my views concerning
them."
" What it was about," answered Gabriel, " I did not
hear; but I can tell you this much, it was concerning
the ancient Romans. Look you, Herr Hummel, if the
old Romans were among us, much would be different.
They were daredevils who knew how to forage; they
knew how to carry on war; they conquered every-
where."
" You speak like an incendiary," said Herr Hum-
mel, with displeasure.
" Yes, that is the way they did," answered Gabriel,
complacently. " They were a selfish people, and knew
how to look out for their own interests. But what
is most wonderful is the number of books these Romans
wrote for all that, large and small — many also in folio.
When I dust the library there is no end to the Romans
THE OPEN COURT
651
of all sizes, and some are books thicker than the Bible,
only they are all difficult to read ; but one who knows
the language may learn much."
" The Romans are an extinct people," replied Herr
Hummel. " When they disappeared, the Germans
came. The Romans could never exist with us. The
only thing that can help us is the Hanse. That is
the thing to look to. Powerful at sea, Gabriel," he
exclaimed, taking hold of his coat by a button, " the
cities must form alliances, invest money, build ships, and
hoist flags; our trade and credit are established, and men
are not wanting."
" And would you venture on the mighty ocean in
that row-boat?" asked Gabriel, pointing to a little boat
which lay in the rear of the garden tilted over on two
planks. " Shall I go to sea with the Professor? "
" That is not the question," answered Herr Hummel;
"let the young people go first — they are useless. Many
could do better than stav at home with their parents.
Why should not the Doctor up there serve his country
in the capacity of a sailor? "
" What do you mean, Herr Hummel ? " cried Gabriel,
startled ; " the young gentleman is near-sighted."
" That's nothing," muttered Herr Hummel, " for
they have telescopes at sea, and for aught I care he may
become a captain. I am not the man to wish evil to my
neighbor."
" He is a man of learning," replied Gabriel, " and
this class is also necessary. I can assure you, Herr Hum-
mel, I have meditated much upon the character of the
learned. I know my Professor accurately, and some-
thing of the Doctor, and I must say there is something
in it — there is much in it. Sometimes I am not so sure
of it. When the tailor brings the Professor home a
new coat he does not remark what everybody else sees,
whether the coat fits him or wrinkles. If he takes it
into his head to buy a load of wood which has very
likely been stolen, from a peasant, he pays more in my
absence than any one else would. And when he grows
angry and excited about matters that you and I would
discuss very calmly, I must say I have my doubts. But
when I see how he acts at other times — how kind and
merciful he is, even to the flies that buzz about his nose,
taking them out of his coffee-cup with a spoon and set-
ting them on the window-sill — how he wishes well to
all the world and begrudges himself everything — how
he sits reading and writing till late at night — when I
see all this, I must say his life affects me powerfully.
And I tell you I will not allow anyone to underrate
our men of learning. They are different from us; they
do not understand what we do, nor do we understand
what they do."
"Yet we also have our culture," replied Herr Hum-
mel. " Gabriel, you have spoken like an honorable
man, but I will confide this to you — that a man may
have great knowledge, and yet be a very hard-hearted
individual, who loans his money on usurious interest
and deprives his friends of the honor due them. Therefore
I think the main point is to have order and boundaries,
anil to leave something to one's descendants. Regu-
larity here," he pointed to his breast, "and a boundary
there," pointing to his fence, " that one may be sure
as to what belongs to one's self and what to another,
and a secure property for one's children on which they
may settle themselves. That is what I understand as
the life of man."
The landlord locked the gate of the fence and the
door of the house. Gabriel also sought his bed, but the
lamp in the Professor's study burned late into the night,
and its rays intermingled on the window-sill with the
pale moonshine. At length the learned man's light
was extinguished, and the room left empty ; outside,
small clouds coursed over the disc of the moon, and
flickering lights reigned paramount in the room, over
the writing-table, over the works of the old Romans,
and over the little book of the defunct Brother Tobias.
CHAPTER II.
THE HOSTILE NEIGHBORS.
We are led to believe that in future times there will
be nothing but love and happiness; and men will go
about with palm branches in their hands to chase away
the last of those birds of night, hatred and malice. In
such a chase we would probably find the last nest of
these monsters hanging between the walls of two
neighboring houses. For they have nestled between
neighbor and neighbor ever since the rain trickled from
the roof of one house into the court of the other; ever
since the rays of the sun were kept away from one house
by the wall of the other; ever since the children thrust
their hands through the hedge to steal berries; ever
since the master of the house has been inclined to con-
sider himself better than his fellow-men. There are in
our days few houses in the county between which so
much ill-will and hostile criticism exist as between the
two houses in the great park of the town.
Many will remember the time when the houses ot
the town did not extend to the wooded valley. Then
there were only a few small houses along the lanes;
behind lay a waste place where Frau Knips, the wash-
woman, dried the shirts, and her two naughty boys
threw the wooden clothes-pins at each other. There
Herr Hummel had bought a dry spot, quite at the end
of the street, and had built his pretty house of two-
stories, with stone steps and iron railing, and behind, a
simple workshop for his trade; for he was a hatter, and
carried on the business very extensively. When he
went out of his house and surveyed the reliefs on the
roof and the plaster arabesques under the windows, he
congratulated himself on being surrounded by light and
652
THE OPEN COURT.
air and free nature, and felt that he was the foremost
pillar of civilization in the primeval forest.
Then he experienced what often happens to disturb
the peace of pioneers of the wilderness — his example
was imitated. On a dark morning in March, a wagon,
loaded with old planks, came to the drying-ground which
was opposite his house. A fence was soon built, and
laborers with shovels and wheelbarrows began to dig
up the ground. This was a hard blow for Herr Hum-
mel. But his suffering became greater when, walking
angrily across the street and inquiring the name of the
man who was causing such injury to the light and repu-
tation of his house, he learned that his future neighbor
was to be a manufacturer by the name of Hahn. That
it should of all men in the world be he, was the greatest
vexation fate could inflict upon him. Hahn was respect-
able; there was nothing to be said against his family;
but he was Hummel's natural opponent, for the busi-
ness of the new settler was also in hats, although straw
hats. The manufacture of this light trash was never
considered as dignified, manly work; it was not a guild
handicraft; it had no right to make apprentices freemen;
it was formerly carried on only by Italian peasants; "it
has only lately, like other bad customs, spread through
the world as a novelty ; it is, in fact, not a business —
the plait-straw is bought and sewed together by young
girls who are engaged by the week. And there is an
old enmity between the felt hat and straw hat. The
felt hat is an historical power consecrated through thou-
sands of years — it only tolerates the cap as an ordinary
contrivance for work-days. Now the straw hat raises
its pretensions against prescribed right, and insolently
lays claim to half of the year. And since then appro-
bation fluctates between these two attributes of the
human race. When the unstable minds of mortals
wavered toward the straw, the most beautiful felt, vel-
veteen, silk, and pasteboard were left unnoticed and eaten
by moths. On the other hand, when the inclinations of
men turned to the felt, every human being — women,
children, and nurses — wore men's small hats; then the
condition of the straw was lamentable — no heart beat for
it, and the mouse nestled in its most beautiful plaits.
This was a strong ground for indignation to Herr
Hummel, but worse was to come. He saw the daily
growth of the hostile house; he watched the scaffolding,
the rising walls, the ornaments of the cornice, and the
rows of windows — it was two windows larger than his
house. The ground floor rose, then a second floor, and
at last a third. All the work-rooms of the straw hat
maufacturer were attached to the dwelling. The house
of Herr Hummel had sunk into insignificance. He then
went to his lawyer and demanded vengeance on account
of the light being obscured and the view spoiled; the
man of law naturally shrugged his shoulders. The
privilege of building houses was one of the fundamental
rights of man ; it was the common German custom to
live in houses, and it was obviously hopeless to propose
that Hahn should only erect on his piece of ground a
canvas tent. Thus there was absolutely nothing to do>
but to submit patiently, and Herr Hummel might have
known that himself.
Years had passed away. At the same hour the light
of the sun gilds both houses; there they stand stately
and inhabited, both occupied by men who daily pass
each other. At the same hour the letter-carrier enters
both houses, the pigeons fly from one roof to the other,
and the sparrows hop around on the gutters of both in
the most cordial relations. About one house there is some-
times a little smell of sulphur, and about the other of
singed hair; but the same summer wind wafts from the
wood, through the doors of both dwellings, the scent of
the pine trees and the perfumes of the lime flowers.
And yet the intense aversion of the inhabitants has not
diminished. The house of Hahn objects to singed hair,
and the family of Hummel cough indignantly in their
garden whenever they suspect sulphur in the oxygen of
the air.
It is true that decorous behavior to the neighborhood
was not quite ignored; even though the felt was
inclined to be quarrelsome, the straw was more pliant,
and showed itself yielding in many cases. Both men
were acquainted with a family in which they occasion-
ally met, nay, both had once been godfathers to the
same child, and care had been taken that one should not
give a smaller christening gift than the other. This
unavoidable acquaintance necessitated formal greetings
whenever they could not avoid meeting each other. But
there it ended. Betwixt the shopmen who cleaned the
straw hats with sulphur, and the workmen who pre-
sided over the hareskins, there existed an intense hatred.
And the people who dwelt in the nearest houses in the
street knew this, and did their best to maintain the
existing relation. But, in fact, the character of both
would scarcely harmonize. Their dialect was different,
their education had been different, the favorite dishes
and the domestic arrangements that were approved by
one displeased the other. Hummel was of North Ger-
man lineage; Hahn had come hither from a small town
in the neighborhood.
When Herr Hummel spoke of his neighbor Hahn,
he called him a man of straw and a fantastical fellow.
Herr Hahn was a thoughtful man, quiet and industrious
in his business, but in his hours of recreation he devoted
himself to some peculiar fancies. These were undoubt-
edly intended to make a favorable impression on the
people who passed by the two houses on their way to
the meadow and the woods. In his little garden he
had collected most of the contrivances of modern land-
scape gardening. Between the three elder bushes there
rose up a rock built of tufa, with a small, steep path to-
THE OPEN COURT
653
the top. The expedition up to the summit could be
ventured upon without an Alpine staff by strong mount-
ain climbers only, and even they would be in danger of
foiling on their noses on the jagged tufa. The follow-
ing year, near the railing, poles were erected at short
intervals, round which climbed creepers, and between
each pole hung a colored glass lamp. When the row
of lamps was lighted up on festive evenings they threw
a magic splendor on the straw hats which were placed
under the elder bushes, and which challenged the judg-
ment of the passers-by. The following year the glass
lamps were superseded by Chinese lanterns. Again, the
next year the garden bore a classical aspect, for a white
statue of a muse, surrounded by ivy and blooming wall-
flowers, shone forth far into the wood.
In contradistinction to such novelties Herr Hummel
remained firm to his preference for water. In the rear
of his house a small canal flowed to the town. Every
year his boat was painted the same green, and in his
leisure hours he loved to go alone in his boat and to row
from the houses to the park. He took his rod in his
hand, and devoted himself to the pleasure of catching
gudgeons, minnows, and other small fish.
Doubtless the Hummel family were more aristocratic,
— that is, more determined, more out of the common, and
more difficult to deal with. Of all the housewives of
the street, Frau Hummel made the greatest pretensions
by her silk dresses and gold watch and chain. She was
a little lady with blonde curls, still very pretty; she had
a seat at the theatre, was accomplished and kind-hearted,
and very irascible. She looked as if she did not concern
herself about anything, but she knew everything that
happened in the street. Her husband was the only one
who, at times, was beyond her control. Yet, although
Herr Hummel was tyrannical to all the world, he some-
times showed his wife great consideration. When she
was too much for him in the house, he quietly went into
the garden, and if she followed him there, he ensconced
himself in the factory behind a bulwark of felt.
But also Frau Hummel was subject to a higher
power, and this power was exercised by her little
daughter, Laura. This was the only surviving one of
several children, and all the tenderness and affection of
the mother were lavished upon her. And she was a
splendid little girl; the whole town knew her ever since
she wore her first red shoes; she was often detained
when in the arms of her nurse, and had many presents
given her. She grew up a merry, plump little maiden,
with two large blue eyes and round cheeks, with dark,
curly hair, and an arch countenance. When the little,
rosy daughter of Hummel walked along the streets, her
hands in the pockets of her apron, she was the delight
of the whole neighborhood. Sprightly and decided, she
knew how to behave toward all, and was never
backward in offering her little mouth to be kissed.
She would give the woodcutter at the door her but-
tered roll, and join him in drinking the thin coffee
out of his cup; she accompanied the letter-carrier all
along the street, and her greatest pleasure was to run
with him up the steps, to ring and deliver his letters^
she even once slipped out of the room late in the even-
ing, and placed herself by the watchman, on a corner-
stone, and held his great horn in impatient expectation
of the striking of the hour at which it was to be sounded.
Frau Hummel lived in unceasing anxiety lest her
daughter should be stolen; for, more than once she had
disappeared for many hours; she had gone with chil-
dren, who were strangers, to their homes, and hail played
with them — she was the patroness of many of the little
urchins in the street, knew how to make them respect
her, gave them pennies, and received as tokens of esteem
dolls and little chimneysweeps, which were composed of
dried plums and little wooden sticks. She was a kind-
hearted child that rather laughed than wept, and her
merry face contributed more toward making the house
of Herr Hummel a pleasant abode, than the ivy screen
of the mistress of the house, or the massive bust of Herr
Hummel himself, which looked down stubbornly on
Laura's doll-house.
"The child is becoming unbearable," exclaimed
Frau Hummel, angrily dragging in the troubled Laura by
the hand. " She is running about the streets all day
long. Just now when I came from market she
was sitting near the bridge, on the chair of the fruit-
woman, selling onions for her. Everyone was gather-
ing around her, and I had to fetch my child out of the
crowd."
" The little monkey will do well," answered Herr
Hummel, laughing; "why will you not let her enjoy
her childhood?"
" She must give up this low company. She lacks all
sense of refinement; she hardly knows her alphabet, and
she has no taste for reading. It is time, too, that she
should begin the French vocabulary. Little Betty, the
councillor's daughter, is not older, and she knows how
to call her mother chere ?nere, in such a pretty manner."
" The French are a polite people," answered Herr
Hummel. " If you are so anxious to train your daughter
for market, the Turkish language would be better than
the French. The Turk pays money if you dispose of
your child to him; the others wish to have something
into the bargain."
" Do not speak so inconsiderately, Henry !" exclaimed
the wife.
" Be off with you with your cursed vocabularies, else
I promise you I will teach the child all the French
phrases I know; they are not many, but they are strong.
Baisez-moi, Madame Hummel!'" Saying this, he left
the room with an air of defiance.
The result, however, of this consultation was that
654
THE OPEN COURT.
Laura went to school. It was very difficult for her to
listen and be silent, and for a long time her progress was
not satisfactory. But at last her little soul was fired with
ambition; she climbed the lower steps of learning with
Friiulein Johanne, and then she was promoted to the
renowned Institute of Fraulein Jeannette, where the
daughters of families of pretension received education
in higher branches. There she learned the tributaries of
the Amazon, and much Egyptian history; she could
touch the cover of the electrophorus, speak of the
weather in French, and read English so ingeniously
that even true-born Britons were obliged to acknowl-
edge that a new language had been discovered; lastly,
she was accomplished in all the elegancies of German
composition. She wrote small treatises on the differ-
ence between waking and sleeping, on the feelings of
the famed Cornelia, mother of the Gracchi, on the ter-
rors of a shipwreck, and of the desert island on which
she had been saved. Finally, she gained some knowl-
edge of the composition of strophes and sonnets. It
soon became clear that Laura's strong point was Ger-
man, not French; her style was the delight of the Insti-
tute; nay, she began to write poems in honor of her
teachers and favorite companions, in which she very
happily imitated the difficult rhymes of the great
Schiller's " Song of the Bell." She was now eighteen,
a pretty, rosy, young lady, still plump and merry, still
the ruling power of the house, and still loved by all the
people on the street.
The mother, proud of the accomplishments of her
daughter, after her confirmation, prepared an upper
room for her, looking out upon the trees of the park ;
and Laura fitted up her little home like a fairy castle,
with an ivy screen, a little flower-table, and a beautiful
ink-stand of china on which shepherds and shepherdesses
were sitting side by side. There she passed her pleas-
antest hours with her pen and paper, writing her
memoirs in secret.
( To be continued?)
POETS ON FOOLS.
No creature smarts so little as a fool.
— Pope. Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnos.
Men may live fools, but fools they cannot die!
— Young. Night Thoughts.
Fools grant whate'er ambition craves,
And men, once ignorant, are slaves.
— Pope.
The fellow's wise enough to play the fool;
And to do that well craves a kind of wit.
— Shakespeare.
'Tis an old maxim in the schools,
That vanity's the food of fools;
Yet now and then your men of wit
Will condescend to take a bit.
—Swift.
TRANSLATION FROM HEINE.
[Reprinted with a few slight alterations from The Southern Collegian.}
Du bist wie eine Bliime.
So sweet, so fair, so pure, love,
Like a flower, my darling, thou art.
As I gaze on thee a feeling
Of sadness steals into my heart.
My hand would I lay on thy forehead,
As gently I breathe forth a prayer,
That God may thus e'er preserve thee
So pure, so sweet, so fair.
POETS ON HAPPINESS.
What things so good which not some harm may bring?
E'en to be happy is a dangerous thing.
— Earl of Herling. Darius.
The gods in bounty work up storms about us
That give mankind occasion to exert
Their hidden strength and throw out into practice
Virtues which shun the day.
— Addison.
Some souls we see
Grow hard and stiffen with
Adversity.
— Dryden.
Happiness courts thee in her best array;
But like a misbehaved and sullen wench
Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love :
Take heed, take heed! for such die miserable.
— Shakespeare.
Happiness, object of that waking dream
Which we call life, mistaking ; fugitive theme
Of my pursuing verse, ideal shade,
National good, by fancy only made.
— Prior.
By adversity are wrought
The greatest works of admiration,
And all the fair examples of renown
Out of distress and misery are grown.
— Daniel. On the Earl of Southampton.
We have received from Boston the prospectus
of The Writers Literary Bureau, which offers itself
as a medium between authors and publishers. The
plan of the managers is to read manuscripts, and
then to suggest to the authors the periodicals that
would be most likely to accept them. We have no
doubt that this institute will be found useful by
many.
The Open Court is in communication with some
and will at once put itself in communication with other,
prominent French and German thinkers, such as
Wundt, Preyer, Hering, Noire, Steinthal, Carus Sterne,
Geiger, Haeckel, Carl Vogt, Btichner, Binet, Ribot, etc.,
in order to obtain their sanction to publish translations
of some of their writings in its columns.
The Open Court
A Fortnightly Journal,
Devoted to the Work of Conciliating Religion with Science.
Vol. I. No. 23.
CHICAGO, JANUARY 5, 1888.
( Three Dollars per Year
I Single Copies, 15 cts.
EVOLUTION AND IDEALISM.
BY E. D. COPE.
The doctrine of idealism is naturally attractive to
the minds that believe in mind. To feel that mind is
all in all, and is not bound to " low material things," is
as agreeable to the metaphysician as it is to the seeker
for immortality. Moreover, the doctrine seems to have
a certain support from the scientific side. We know
that our knowledge of what one vulgarly supposed to
be the properties of matter, is not derived from a single
sense, and we readily understand that those properties
would appear to be greatly modified, were the number
of our senses reduced or increased. Moreover, we
know from experience of the abnormal or diseased
states, both of ourselves and of other men, that the
appearances of the objective world may be wonderfully
modified by changes in ourselves. The hallucinations
of delirium and other forms of mental disorder, are mat-
ter of every-day knowledge; and the illusions that may
deceive even the healthy mind are equally well known.
The question between the realist and the idealist is,
what do these facts prove?
They certainly do not prove that a universe which
presents in its parts, and therefore in its entirety,
the two properties of extension and resistance, has no
existence. They certainly do prove that our knowledge
of such universe and of its parts is imperfect. It is to
remedy this imperfection, and to enlarge our knowledge
that many men spend much labor and time. And the
knowledge thus acquired and exactly systematized, is
called science. The pursuit of science postulates the
existence of that which it pursues, not as states of con-
sciousness, but as objective realities. There are reasons
for the soundness of this view, which I propose briefly
to enumerate.
If a given supposed object be in reality a purely
mental state on the part of the subject, a rational cause
for the production of that state is wanting. But letting
this difficulty pass for the time, and letting it be sup-
posed that there is some apparent undefined cause for
such state existent when the subject is present to it, if
the phenomenon be only a mental state, so soon as the
subject mind betakes itself to some other locality, the
supposed cause must cease to exist to that person or
subject. To a second person or subject who may
remain behind the first, the cause of the mental state
does still exist. On the departure of the second person,
it ceases to exist for him, but continues for the third
person, and so on. In the presence of these facts, con-
sistency requires one of two conclusions, on the part of
the idealist; either he must deny the validity of the
mental states of other men, or he must believe in the
Hegelian aphorism, " Existence and non-existence are
identical." Some idealists adopt the one, and others the
other of these two horns of the dilemma.
But the difficulty is immensely increased when we
contemplate the mental lives of the lower animals, with
their varied sense organs and media of contact with the
so-called material world. We can readily imagine the
limitations under which many of them exist through
their structural deficiencies; but we cannot so well
imagine, though we are compelled to believe in the
wonderful acuteness of the perception, and the to us
incomprehensible peculiarity of sensation, produced by
the various special organs of sense with which many of
them are furnished. Think of the tactile sensibility to
slight movements of the water possessed by the blind-
fish of the Mammoth Cave. Think of the sense im-
pressions of which we know nothing conveyed by the
antenna? of insects. Think especially of the " other
world than ours," in which many of the Mammalia
live, in consequence of the high development of the
olfactory sense. We can easily perceive the result of
the idealistic reasoning on the part of the inferior ani-
mals, were they capable of it. To many of them man-
kind would not exist; to others the sun would be a fic-
tion. Those to whom low tones are imperceptible,
would deny the existence of the only vibrations that
some other species is adapted to hear.
The idealistic position which denies the existence of
matter, results from a process of cancellation of the
objective universe bit by bit. One animal after another,
and one sense after another, are proven fallible, and so
the entire objective superstructure disappears. The
realist, on the other hand, adds together all the phenom-
ena derived from all the senses of all conscious beings,
thus getting a positive result, where the idealist gets a
negative one. Which is the more rational of the two
methods? The actual result to thought is, that we learn
the insufficiency of each and every sense, but not its
impotency. We are instructed that our true policy is
to use our senses to the best purpose, and to add to their
6s6
THE OPEN COURT.
number, so that the defect of our knowledge may be
remedied, and our mental vision enlarged more and
more. And this is the mission of science.
But all knowledge, we are told, is relative, and that
of the absolute reality we can learn nothing. This doc-
trine does not necessarily involve idealism, but it is nec-
essarily held by consistent idealists. One can believe
in a material universe and still hold that we do not
know it absolutely or even truly. And as " we are all
poor creatures," many of us are prone to repeat " great
is the doctrine" of the Relativity of Knowledge! And
the scientist echoes, but in a different spirit, great is the
doctrine of the Relativity of Knowledge; yea, great is
our Ignorance! Great is our ignorance indeed, but not
"great is Ignorance!" The scientist does not worship
ignorance; he worships knowledge, and his occupation
is to increase knowledge. To the responsive intellect
and enterprising spirit, the knowledge of our ignorance
is the stimulus to unceasing labor. To men of a more
lymphatic temperament the knowledge of ignorance
seems to paralyze their lives. But science has done
much towards elucidating the order of the universe, and
will do more.
Evolution gives the coup de grace to idealism of
the consistent type. In the gradual unfolding of
organic life it sees the two universal facts, subject
and object. It sees them interact and influence each
other. Under the influence of active, conscious lifg
thousands of tons of substances are transported from
place to place and metamorphosed in the process.
Under the influence of life, from which consciousness
may or may not be absent, thousands of tons of matter
have been made into soil, rocks, and living tissue. On
the other hand, the objective environment has con-
strained all living things into rigid modes, and has
extinguished millions. In the midst of all this turmoil,
consciousness has picked and wound its way, ever gain-
ing in strength and skill, till now we behold man. Of
all animals, man controls his environment most com-
pletely. He begins by making his own heat and
light; he makes his food to grow, and his skin is partly
his own manufacture. He does this, and very much
more, with infinite pains and toil, and yet some individ-
uals of his species actually deny the existence of this
environment, which has compelled him to be what he is!
It is equally competent for the materialist to deny
the existence of mind, as for the idealist to deny the ex-
istence of matter. The materialist, beholding the imper-
fection of the senses may pronounce them to be, one by
one, incompetent witnesses, and declare them to be illu-
sions. The mind, which is the product of these impres-
sions, immediate or remembered, falls with them; it is
also an illusion. But the fact is, both exist, object and
subject, matter and mind. And since matter cannot
study mind, mind must study matter, and by so doing
grow to more absolute knowledge and greater control of
its physical basis, and therefore of itself.
It can now be seen why the study of the "problem
of cognition " has little interest to progressive science.
Its result is an expression of our ignorance in philosoph-
ical form, a proposition which the scientist is not dis-
posed to deny. But when he asks the philosopher
'' what do you propose to do about it?" and gets the
same old story reiterated from the old scholastics to the
latest relativist, he turns from such blind guides to his
own, and to nature's laboratories, and goes to work.
And the theologian applauds the philosopher, and says
of the scientist in his prayers, " I thank Thee that I am
not as this section-cutter, this bug-hunter, nor even as
this bone sharp." But the scientist knows that he holds
the key of the situation, and he lets the philosopher and
the theologian rejoice themselves, each in his appropri-
ate department of Swedenborg's heaven. The field of
Idealism has been well worked out, and we of this age
should thank the mighty men of the past for having
done it for us. We can now go on with an easier mind
in a more profitable pursuit.
Doctor Montgomery's last article in Number 21 of
The Open Court, states at once the strength and
weakness of idealism. Its principal weakness is that it
is unable to stand alone without a good strong realistic
prop somewhere behind. Thus the Doctor says (p.
5S7): "The tri-dimensional, hard, colored, sounding,
scented, heated matter — fancied by Professor Cope and
others to subsist outside consciousness, and believed by
them to be directed and organized by such conscious-
ness— is, indeed, through and through, a fictitious entity,
consisting of nothing but a set of pur own percepts illusive-
ly projected into non-mental existence." This looks like
pure idealism, but he lets in a " non-mental existence."
Now what is this? On page 589 (bottom) he says:
" Now the realistic assumption which the philosophy of
organization here makes, is, indeed, the simplest possible,
and is in full agreement with given facts. It supposes
that there subsist in nature non-mental existents pos-
sessing the power of specifically affecting our individ-
ual sensibility, and of manifesting their special charac-
teristics by means of the different conscious states they
arouse in us." This is a little more definite, and the
Doctor even calls it by its right name, a " realistic as-
sumption." This is quite to my liking, but I cannot
perceive how such " non-mental existent" can have
less than three dimensions and still exist. And in order
to prove to me that mind or consciousness has no control
over this tri-dimensional " non-mental existent," Dr.
Montgomery must go into further particulars. He
must prove to me that an animal does not eat or drink
because it feels hungry or thirsty; does not seek shelter
on account of weather or temperature; expresses noth-
ing in its voice of pain, desire or pleasure; that the
THE OPEN COURT
657
horse does not run because he is whipped, or the bird
build because it feels the necessity of laying, etc., etc.
I must here protest against the misinterpretation of
an expression contained in one of my earlier articles,
which was not sufficiently guarded, it is true, to pre-
clude such misconstruction. It is possible to say cor-
rectly that " mind is a property of matter, as color and
odor are properties of the rose," without meaning to say
that the two properties are such in the same manner, as is
inferred by my critic (p. 5S9). My article in Number
19 of The Open Court is sufficiently clear as to what
I understand by mind as a property of matter, so that it is
unnecessary to go into a fuller explanation. Suffice it to
say that the conscious and the unconscious properties of
matter cannot be confounded by any rational thinker, and
that such confusion is entirely foreign to my thoughts.
More than one-third of Dr. Montgomery's article num-
ber 5 is thus irrelevant. In the other two-thirds I fail,
as yet, to find a definite theory which shall explain the
apparent facts of designed movements of animals differ-
ently from that which is held both by physiological
science and by popular belief. That is, that the design
in them is the direct result of a limited control which
conscious states have, or did once have, over the energy
and the matter concerned in producing them.
THE FOOL IN THE DRAMA.
BY FRANZ HELBIG.
( Continued )
If we regard folly from a pathological point of view,
it is again Shakespeare who has contributed the most
remarkable specimens of this class to the stage — fore-
most among them the tragi-comic figure of King Lear.
After abdicating and despite the warning of his
friends, dividing his realm during his life-time, he still
retains the old habit of ruling. He cannot part with it;
and now he realizes that he has suddenly become a
" naught " as the Fool bluntly tells him.
He is deprived of his retinue; the attendants of his
daughters mock and scorn him; his own faithful servants
are thrown into prison. — All this induces the loss of his
reason. His past greatness is now replaced by an im-
aginary one. He still fancies himself to be what he
was, but no longer is. He is conscious of the approach
of madness and endeavors to prevent it — but in vain.
His power to resist the dreaded evil grows weaker and
weaker; and when he sees his own fate in the feigned
madness of Edgar, who has also been driven from his
home by the intrigues of his bastard-brother, his mad-
ness assumes the form of what is generally called para-
noia. The King is now transformed into the fool, who
walks across the barren heath, a wreath of straw replac-
ing his crown ; in his hand a staff instead of his scepter —
and at his side his own jester as his confidential counselor
and minister, and yet in his own estimation "every inch
a king."
Similarly the insanity of Ophelia and the somnam-
bulism of Lady Macbeth are pathologically quite true.
The sensitive spirit of the former is crushed by the
terribly sad complication of circumstances. The latter il-
lustrates the melancholv truth: How much easier it is to
commit crime than to bear the consequences.
The hallucinations of Macbeth and of Richard III,
hardly come within the scope of this subject, but the
frenzy of unfounded jealousy, as portrayed in Othello and
King Leontes, most certainly does. In the case of the
latter two, reason and judgment are destroyed by their
enslavement to this most terrible of all passions. This
passion, so tragically portrayed by Shakespeare, was
afterwards facetiously treated on the comic stage.
Shylock, the Jew must be included among the
Shakespearean fools, for essentially he is not a tragic
but a grotesque figure. His folly consists in the fact,
that he does not immediately recognize the invalidity of
his bond, which grants him " an equal pound of fair
flesh" from the body of his debtor, — but allows himself to
be outwitted by a woman; and thus he is made an object
of ridicule rather than of pity. His defeat evokes only
delight and derision. Throughout the entire play, the
comic element predominates; as, for instance, in the
casket-scene, — in Jessica's merry nocturnal elopement, —
in the goings-on at the carnival — in Portia's successful
disguise, and in the sportive banter in the fifth act.
The steward Malvolio in " Twelfth Night " is an-
other of the fools, who is himself fooled. — A letter
written by the mischievous Maria, makes him imagine
Olivia in love with him, and causes him to betray his
dormant proclivity for foil)'. In accordance with the
instructions in the letter, he puts on yellow stockings,
cross-garters his legs, and is "surly with the servants."
This extraordinary behavior earns for him the reputation
of genuine madness, and the poor rogue is locked up.
These two characters introduce to us that class of fools,
who are such neither by profession, nor in a purely
pathological sense, but who have, as it were, a tendency
to folly. — They are the weak, impressionable people
whose foolishness becomes apparent only when a certain
chord in their being is struck and made to vibrate. They
are of the kind we are apt to call addle-pated.
This type of fool is numerously represented on the
stage, as is forcibly illustrated in an old carnival-play by
Hans Sachs. In this play, entitled "The Excision of
Fools," a physician and his assistant appear, to cure a
man of the stomach-ache. The doctor tells the sick
man that his body is infested by fools, and that they
must be cut out, if he wishes to recover; and thereupon
he begins to pull out one fool after another. The first that
his tongs seize, is the fool of pride, the second is the
"four-cornered" fool of avarice; then come the fools of
envy, lust and intemperance. Whenever the poor in-
valid imagines that all the fools are gone, still another
658
THE OPEN COURT.
makes his appearance; and when at last he deems himself
entirely cured of his sufferings, the doctor discovers a
whole nest of folly filled with
" Fools of all-known types and fashions,
Pettifoggers and magicians,
Alchemists and financiers,
Grumblers, scoffers full of jeers;
Adepts in the art of lies,
Blackmailers and butterflies;
Knaves and humbugs, flatterers sweet,
Churls and boors he too did meet;
Mischief-makers and yarn spinners,
Ingrates, dolts and other sinners;
Ever-changing fools of fashion,
They, whose worries are their passion ;
Borrowers who never pay ;
Jealous husbands hard to stay," — etc.
We shall now introduce a few groups which show
how manifold and varied are the phases of our subject.
In connection with Malvolio, we first of all meet that
class of old, amorous fops, whose folly consists in their
anxiety to conceal their age by artificial means.
Kotzebue's Count Klingsberg is eminently one of
this category. The sight of a woman is sufficient to
make him lose his head. Aside from this he is gentle and
kind-hearted, and thinks tenderly of his dead wife.
Nor is he careless of matters of etiquette. But his
amorous infatuation makes of him the fop, who tries to
appear young, despite his white hair. It gets him into
one scrape after another. The pheasant which is
ordered for his mistress, is eaten by his son. In order
not to compromise himself, he must give his sister the
shawl intended for her pretty maid ; at a rendezvous,
instead of the young lady he expects to meet, he finds
his own elderly sister. " Well, I'd like to find
a bigger fool than I am," he exclaims after this.
" I see Klingsberg has outlived himself; there is
nothing left him except his old sister." With this
avowal he abjures folly forevermore.
In this species of fool we may also include all those
in whom some quality, in itself laudable, has been so ex-
aggerated as to become ungovernable; as when a man,
from being economical, grows miserly, or when a
father's love becomes a blind worship.
Moliere in his Harpagon gives us an excellent ex-
ample of the former. This fool of avarice has but one
thought, one aim in life : The safe-keeping and accumula-
tion of his hoard. Men and things alike have no interest for
him save when they serve this end. The anxiety about
his money makes him distrustful ; he imagines every one a
thief or a rogue who has designs upon it. He carefully
secretes it, and pretends to be poor. When, despite his
precautions, his hidden treasure is stolen, he becomes
perfectly frantic. " I am undone, and of no more use in
the world! I am dead, I am buried! Will no one call
me back to life and give me my precious money !" he
exclaims in a paroxysm of despair; and when thereupon,
he is offered the alternative of choosing between his
wealth and his fair young bride, he unhesitatingly gives
up the latter. The folly in Harpagon lies in his de-
lusion that the money in itself is valuable, whereas it
only becomes truly so, when brought into use. To the
sensible man it is a source of pleasure and earthly
happiness, but to the fool it causes only privation,
trouble and anxiety.
L'Arronge has created some excellent specimens of
this type of fool — one of them being the shoe-maker
Weicheltin " My Leopold." His love for his son is so
great as to merge into foil)'. It entirely unbalances
him and so clouds his judgment, that he can no longer
distinguish right from wrong, the true from the false.
He becomes rough, hard and unjust until finally misery
and misfortune cure him, and re-establish his mental
equilibrium. His very counterpart is found in old Vosz,
in the " Compagnon." His love for his- daughter actually
makes him jealous of his son-in-law; but he is cured of
his folly by a woman's common sense.
Another class of fools now appears on the scene.
These may be termed the fools of rank and vocation.
The consciousness of their exalted position has become
such as to make them unsympathetic and unappreciative
of all else. The saying: To whom God gives a voca-
tion, to him he also gives common sense — is disproved
by them. Their office and the rank it entails have in
their cases deprived them of common sense.
These fools of rank and vocation find a striking
representative in Schiller's Herr von Kalb. He has
become so vainglorious of his important position, that
he can be rational only when at times he chances to
forget himself. The most tragic event of his life is that,
at a court ball, some twenty-one years ago, Herr von
Bock snatched from him the garter which the Countess
Amelia had lost. Despite his " ounce of brains " he is
quite governed by the consciousness of his importance,
which, however, is not strong enough to be proof against
Ferdinand's revolver. A similar character, in the lower
grades of life, is found in Lortzing's " Czar und Zim-
mermann " in the Mayor of Sardaam. In him, too, the
exaggerated importance of his office, and the folly, which
deems itself wisdom, are personified. It requires but
the glamour of office to cause all the hidden folly of
such a man to blossom forth. The mayor, bloated by
the importance of his office, imagines himself a "second
Solomon," whose judgment is never at fault ; neverthe-
less, despite his cleverness, he always contrives to get
hold of the wrong Czar. In him conceit is mingled
with cunning, and self-importance with servile fear; these,
with his snobbish good-nature and absurd severity, make
him a most amusingly grotesque representative of the
race of fools.
The merchant, Timotheus Bloom, in Toepfer's
"Rosenmiiller und Finke," is another one of this class.
THE OPEN COURT.
659
To be a merchant is his one ideal; all else he deems un-
worthy of his consideration. His thoughts are devoted
to business speculations — gain is his one aim in life; he
thinks in figures, and estimates everything according to
its pecuniary value. His whole life is a succession of
business calculations; his son's happiness is to him merely
an example in addition; his sympathy increases or dimin-
ishes in proportion to the dowry. Anyone who chances
to touch the mainspring of his thoughts and gives him
the prospect of profit and gain has won his friendship.
Upon such occasions the merchant will be moved even
to kisses and embraces. Anyone who proves himself
Bloom's equal or superior in business knowledge and tal-
ent, elicits his warmest regard. In everything else busi-
ness goes before other considerations. He must read his
letter from Manchester before seeing his son, who has
been absent three years. He disowns his brother because
instead of becoming a merchant, he turns soldier — a pro-
fession which is not lucrative, and therefore unworthy
of his consideration. He is punished for his folly in find-
ing that whereas his brother's son has become a mer-
chant, his own son has secretly joined the arm}-. Thus
things turn out exactly contrary to his expectations, and
frustrate all his fool's wisdom.
These fools of vocation are so absorbed in their oc-
cupation, that they neglect all practical intercourse with
the outside world ; as is illustrated in Kotzebue's all-wise
Peregrinus, who, though versed in all the languages
and sciences, is quite lost when in the company of others;
or Benedix's Professor Lambert in "The Wedding
Tour," who consults the classics as to the treatment of his
young wife.
{To be concluded.)
THE SOCIAL PROBLEM AND THE CHURCH.
BY MORRISON I. SWIFT.
It is the work of a wise man to discern the true
issues of his own day. The firm acceptance of those
issues in word and deed is the token of a great and
courageous man.
A memorable century is fast slipping away from us.
So vast have been the achievements of human energy, so
fair the victories of right and truth in the world, that
it requires poise of mind and strength of will to restrain
our assent to the engaging fallacy that the severest
struggles are over. And yet these conquests have done
nothing less than prepare for us a severer problem than
any that our century has yet faced, and one which the
future will probably rank among the greatest of all
centuries.
The great struggle of mankind has been to attain
freedom for. the development of the human personality.
The Protestant reformers saw that this was impossible
without liberty of the individual conscience ; those who won
for every man equality before the law felt the same fact;
when blood was shed on our soil for the slave, it was but
the extension of the idea of freedom to all races. These
movements began as new insights. Another perception
is now making its way in the world. It is becoming
known that the power to acquire a fair degree of material
well-being by honest exertion is essential to the possession
of true freedom ; that men whose daily bread is
precarious, whose entire energies must be devoted to
obtaining it, and who know that their success in barely
living depends not upon their own action, but on the
action and often the arbitrary will of others, cannot
properly be called free.
The industrial organization of the society in which
we live has brought the masses of mankind to this
condition.
It is this fact which defines the issue that we must
meet. How shall opportunity for the development of
manhood be secured for all men? How shall we
establish such fair distribution of the products of human
industry that superabundance and luxury will not exist
while there are deprivation and ignorance undermining
the physical, mental and moral health of individual and
society, by their side in the world?
Has the Church any especial relation to this problem?
It has, because in its true nature the problem is throughout
moral, and the Church is of all organizations the one
whose express mission is the development of a
progressive morality. All of those principles for the
improvement of the moral nature of man which are
embodied in Christianity are so involved in this present
issue that it is not going too far to call it the question of
all questions for the Church of our time.
Let us therefore inquire if the life and teachings of
the founder of the Church indicate for us the solution
of this difficult question.
History has been a growth, and great ideas and
principles have not been suddenly born into the world.
The way was prepared for Jesus. But this fact
distinguished him: He placed himself at the summit of
the pyramid of moral ideas of his time and accepted no
compromises. He listened to the inward voice, and
followed it with perfect fidelity. He was absolute with
morality. Conscious of the past, he could therefore
declare and exemplify a morality superior to it. Hence
if we find Cicero expressing his disdain for artizans and
asking "What can be more stupid than to respect the
crowd of those whom one despises individually ?"* —if
the prevalent temper of the ancient world was to regard
poverty as a disgrace, and to hold the poor man ' to be
incapable of wisdom and honesty;' if it was useless for
him to swear by the Gods, since men were always
inclined to think him a liar and a perjurer,! we see
Christ honoring poverty and living in it himself, founding
the hopes of his new Kingdom upon the poor and
•Professor C. Schmidt's " The Social Results of Early Christianity," p. 65.
fThe same, p. 67.
66o
THE OPEN COURT.
despised, choosing laborers for disciples and sending them
forth to convert the world with ' neither gold nor silver
nor brass' in their purses.* Aristotle said, "There are
labours with which a freeman cannot be occupied without
degrading himself. Such are those which particularly
require bodily strength; but for these labours nature has
created a special class of men. These special beings are
those whom we subjugate, in order that they may take
bodily labor in our stead, under the names of slaves or
mercenaries."f Christ, on the other hand, made service
supreme in the order which he disclosed. His words
were, " Whosoever will be great among you, let him be
your minister; and whosoever will be chief among you,
let him be your servant;"* and he washed the feet of his
disciples to prove that this teaching was no dainty figure
of speech, but a recognition of the equal value of all
service. Carrying these profounder insights of Jesus
into practical affairs, St. Paul affirms that ' if a man will
not work neither shall he eat.'
In a word, the spirit of the ancient world was that
a gifted and fortunate few, a select brotherhood,
comprised the worth of the race. Jesus consented to no
limitation, but declared the equality and brotherhood of
all men before God; his actions and words were inspired
by that central sentiment, the universal brotherhood of
man.
These facts supply us with the needed data for. light
in the present social emergency. The spirit of Christianity
requires the fullest actualization of that universal
brotherhood of man in the world. It requires us to
labor to bring the actions and institutions of men into
conformity with the laws of moral conduct which would
flow from the conception of men as brothers. The
kingdom of heaven so often spoken of by Christ, was
not meant for a myth for human society.
The world has made great strides toward the
realization of these ideas since Jesus impressed them
with his authority. As one obstacle after another has
been realized by those who would see society ordered
according to the principles of righteousness and love,
they have gathered their powers and broken through it
for the unceasing onward march. The great barrier
to-day, which since the time of Christ has been
recognized by occasional seers, but which the best moral
forces of the world have never until now been prepared
to face, is that raised up by the traditional usages and
long-accepted ideas about property and its rights, about
the privileges of individuals regarding its acquisition and
disposition. The social facts and phenomena occasioned
and sanctioned by these ideas stand squarely and firmly
in the way of the realization of the Christian idea in the
world. If they cannot be altered, the advance of Chris-
*Matt. x, 9.
f" The Social Results of E;tr]y Christianity," p. 64.
fMatt xx, 26, 27.
tianity must cease, and the triumph of lower principles
must be acknowledged.
With the problem now clearly in mind, — the recon-
struction of the industrial relations of men upon
moral principles — and recognizing this as the trans-
cendent concern of the Church at this period of
the development of Christianity, since the progress
of Christian principles demands, and depends upon, its
achievement, a third inquiry presents itself. What is
the possibility of the Christian Church; what can it
accomplish? In this country where the Church has the
sincere allegiance of so large a portion of the people,
where its influence and authority are therefore great,
where it represents a large proportion of the specially
organized moral forces of the land, where finally, its
material resources are almost unlimited and the money
power of the country is its friend and supporter, it
would be possible for the Church to bring about the
reform that is needed with little difficulty, if it seri-
ously desired to do so. Many have observed this, and
have waited expectantly for the reform to come. Many,
also, have lost their sympathy with the Church because
it has postponed earnest investigation and action so
long.
It must he confessed that the Church is not aroused
to the weightiness of this subject. The ministers who
have given it thought and place in their round of duties
are the exceptions. What I would say in this connection
is, that all delay of this nature is diminishing the power
of the Church to do effectual service when it shall at
length undertake it. This is because confidence once
lost is difficult to restore, and people alienated do not
often or easily return to their old attachments. If the
Church seems apathetic to their needs in a time of
ferment and transition like the present, the masses may
come to regard the Church as an enemy instead of as a
friend.
Under these circumstances the practicable and effective
course is not difficult to point out. It but remains for
the clergy to seize the opportunity presented to them,
and to bend their whole energy to awaken the slumbering
moral consciousness of the people to whom they preach
upon this vital topic. Some will say that this is a very
easy thing to suggest, but a very hard thing to get done.
" For," they urge, " the clergy as well as the laity are
anxious to let this perplexing question alone as long as
they can."
Let us not, in this study of the situation, recoil from
whatever is true. Dr. Felix Adler has made some
observations in his address on "Reforms Needed in
the Pulpit," which deserve the reflection of those who
would see the pulpit radiating its rightful influence.
"When one remembers the power wielded by the great
preachers in former ages," he says, " one cannot help
reflecting how much the influence of the pulpit has
THE OPEN COURT.
66 1
declined at the present day." And, seeking for the
causes of this decline, he continues, " The chief reason,
as I think, is that the interest of mankind in purely
doctrinal questions has diminished, and that the clergy
have not had the courage or the moral backbone to identify
themselves with the great moral issues of the time, to
interpret the larger moral needs of our age
And while at present, many of our pulpit teachers are
rendering valuable auxiliary services in the various
minor moral movements, yet it is a fact that nowhere
have they taken the grand initiation; nowhere does the
pulpit lead the larger moral movements of the age." I
have undertaken above to define the greatest moral
movement of our age, and it is unnecessary to dwell
further upon the small participation of the pulpit, as yet,
in it.
Now, no one, I think, will quarrel with me if I say
that the first requisite of all influence is the plain
courageous utterance of conviction. On this question of
the laboring classes and povertv, however, it is not
improbable that many are without very clear convictions.
But certainly there are none who can deny the gravity
of the subject itself. I see no escape from the conclusion,
then, that it should be investigated with such faithful
attentiveness as is requisite to the formation of a wise
judgment.
Nothing could be worse for the influence of the
pulpit than the habit into which many preachers
have fallen of sermonizing in defense of Christianity, and
grounding their defense of it upon deeds it has performed
in the past. Is this intended as an apology for present
inactivity? But the present calls for actions prompted
by an insight and wisdom and moral earnestness which
few occasions in history have more greatly needed, and
were the record of the Church immeasurably better than
it is, it could not now afford to do less than to add
strenuous deeds to its history. The best defense against
present criticism is, -surely, not to be amenable to
present criticism.
It is said by some that the pulpit will not go much
beyond those who maintain it. This is to acknowledge
that the opinions of the clergy are to-day bought and
paid for, just as lawyers are hired and legislators sent to
uphold the ideas of their constituency. If this be so, let
the clergy make haste to relinquish their claim to moral
leadership. Let them consciously adjust themselves to the
unspeakably inferior office of providing intellectual and
emotional luxury to those who can pay best.
And when we hear of preachers of Christ who will
recruit the ministry by proving to young men that there
is as much money in the business as in another, we half
suspect that it is coming to this. When we see pastors
of city flocks maintaining costly establishments for ren-
dezvous— wealthy parishioners, over the seething masses
in hunger and ignorance, which in the words of Carlyle
are fast bringing society toward the melting pot, doubt
concerning the moral stamina of our present moral leaders
arises in us. For we remember that Jesus had not where
to lay his head, that his whole life work was done among
the poor ami outcast, where no depths were such that
he would not descend into them; that instead of making
himself a comfortable home among the cultivated classes,
and having the rich as patrons and contributors in his
cause, and going no faster nor farther than the wise and
well-to-do and conservative upholders of the social fabric
of his time could approve, he kept himself safely un-
encumbered by these brakes and weights, and carried the
whole energy of his nature to the work of lifting the
degraded and lowly in society, which morality and
godliness said ought to be done. It was this that gave
irresistibleness and permanence to every act of his. He
did not coquet with duty. He was not seeing that his
own interests would not suffer before he expressed him-
self. The sum of it all was that every interest, material
prosperity, friendship, position, life even, must then and
in alj subsequent times upon the earth be brought into
whole and absolute accord with the highest moral
standards. The person who suggests this in society
today is considered a dreamer. And because indus-
trialism and wealth have grown so strong the clergy
have well-nigh ceased to suggest it, and perhaps to
believe it. Hence people dare say that the ministers
are not much beyond those who support them.
And yet, there is the example of Jesus. The thought
of him and his disciples living in luxury in the world
that he was born into is inconceivable; the thought of
their living in luxury in such a world as ours is to-day, is
none the less repugnant to our sense of their grandeur.
But what of his present disciples in the modern pulpit
and pew! Have eternal principles altered in these
days? Is the obligation to raise up the poor and fallen
any less imperative now than once before? No, but we
have taught ourselves to think so, and hence from our
easy chairs we can proclaim ourselves the followers of
Jesus though misery and misery-caused sin fill and
blacken the earth.
There was in olden times, and is in these latter days,
but one course to followers of Christ. It is to do as
he did and taught — to spend one's resources, whether
energy or material means, in lifting down-fallen hu-
manity.
And, in spite of indications to the contrary, is there
not a slumbering lion in the Christian ministry, which
will ere long awaken and put forth its formidable powers
for the poor and oppressed? Mighty and irresistible
would be the influence of unflinching moral utterance
from the Christian pulpit of this land. The friends of
Christian principles and of humanity await the vindication
by the Christian ministry of its ancient and exalted pre-
rogative to exert this influence.
662
THE OPEN COURT.
FOLK-LORE STUDIES.
BY L. J. VANCE.
III.
We may take next, for the purposes of comparison,
that class of popular tales so familiarly known as
Animal Fables. These mythical tales are diffused
all over the world. They are not the peculiar possession
of the children of the Aryan family. They constitute a
great part of the lore of non-Aryan nations or tribes.
They are to-day as popular among the Indians of North
and South America, the Southern negroes, the Hotten-
tots, and the Polynesians, as ever they were among the
German and Hindu peasants. But above all, these ani-
mal stories have many strong points in common. How
shall we account for such similarities? How comes it
that they are so widely diffused all over the world? In
truth, these are vexed questions at present often warmly
argued between what I may call the 'historical,' and
the 'anthropological ' students of comparative folk-lore.
The historical argument was early and most forcibly
developed by Max Muller. According to his theory
the myth was at first a name or saying about some
natural phenomena, as the sun or moon ; but that, after
their separation the Hindus, Greeks, Romans, and Ger-
mans applied these same names orsayingsto other natural
objects and animals — to birds and beasts. Thus, these
wonderful changes and these wonderful tales are due to
what Muller calls " a disease of language."
This argument has been reinforced and supplemented
more particularly, by the writings of the Rev. Sir
George W. Cox. According to Sir George this class of
popular tales are due not to defective etymologies, but to
defective memories. He also agrees with Muller in
regarding the myth as an allegorical representation of
physical phenomena, originating with the Aryan tribes
in their home in Central Asia. He urjres that so Ions
as our forefathers remained in their original home, they
all would attach the same meaning to all the words in
current use; but after their dispersion when the Greek,
the Roman, and the German had either partially or
wholly forgotten what their ancestors in Central Asia had
meant by such words as Erinys and Hermes, the growth
of tales which regarded such names as persons or beings
with human desires and human feelings would soon fol-
low as a matter of course. Both Max Muller and Sir
George Cox deny that the similarities between the
German marchcn and Greek or Hindu fables could be
ascribed to conscious borrowing. Both agree that the
tales could have been so widely diffused only from
Hindu to German before or at the time of their separa-
tion in Asia.
The anthropological argument ascribes these tales to
the ideas, beliefs, or delusions of primitive peoples. The
students who urge this view hold that they are not
allegorical, nor are these stories nature myths except
when they express natural or physical phenomena.
They, therefore, think that the class of popular tales
is so widely diffused over the world, because primitive
peoples are so widely scattered over the earth's surface.
They further think that the stories are more or less
similar because the primitive mind is more or less strik-
ingly similar.
This argument is strongly reinforced by the studies
of the late J F. McLennan, and by the researches of our
own lamented Lewis H. Morgan. Both of these students
have shown that all savage peoples have passed through
what may be called the " Totem " stage of culture. Thus
Totemism is now the accepted name for the custom by
which a body of kinsmen or kinswomen claims to be
descended from some animal, bird, or other living object.
This object (usually some animal) is believed to be re-
lated to kinsmen bearing its name; it is reverenced by
them as their powerful protector; aye, it is even wor-
shipped in a religious way by the kindred or clan having
it for a totem.
Thus, I am persuaded animal fables are most strik-
ing witnesses of the evolution of human culture from
those low forms of thought and beliefs that characterize
the totem stage. Bearing in mind the savage ideas
about animals, it is easy to see that the growth of tales
which spoke of them — of bears and beavers — as beings
with human feelings, would be inevitable. Now, the
childish account of the animals; the kinship they bear to
men; the way they assume human forms; the manner
in which they act like human beings; indeed, the animal
intelligence shown, which to the savage seems human,
— all this is woven into a great body of story lore. The
greater part of this lore is made up of the magic, tragic,
or comic doings and sayings of the animals. Thus, the
bear, the fox, or the rabbit behave quite like divine
beings, and accomplish the most magical tasks. They
love as men love, and (by some confusion of thought in
the primitive mind) they win for themselves mortal
wives. They fight as men fight; in one case we have
Iroquois' story of ' The Wild Cat and the Rabbit,' in
which the latter is the poor victim, while in the other
case, we have "Uncle Remus'" story of 'The Awful
fate of Mr. Wolf in which Brer Rabbit comes off victori-
ous. I need only notice the harmless tricks and pranks
which Grimm has made so familiar to us under the name
of Reynard the Fox. Then, again, the keen-eyed
savage notices certain peculiartics about the different .
animals, as their size, their form, their colorings, etc.
Consequently we have a number of stories telling us
'Why the Crow is Black;' 'Hnv the Bear lost his
Tail;' and 'Why the Chipmunk has a Black Stripe on
his Back.'
But to conclude: I regard these animal stories rather
as striking instances of what we call intellectual
"survival" than as examples of either false etymologies
THE OPEN COURT.
663
or "defective " memories. Manifestly, Sir George Cox
and Max Miiller fail to account for some of the most patent
facts of human culture. They do not even show that the
myth was at first complete and perfect among the primi-
tive Aryans, nor do they furnish proof of the transfor-
mation of a nature myth into an animal fable. But
above all, they do not explain how it is that these same
tales found their way among non- Aryan peoples, and
become household tales among the rude tribes all over
the world. I venture to think that the simple, pointed
stories of Leland's " Algonquin Legends," for example,
are full}' as clever as the animal stories of Europe, which
have often come to us interpolated with modern beliefs,
— or rather unbeliefs.
But I do not mean to say that the anthropological
arguments are entirely adequate to explain all the im-
portant facts in this class of folk-lore. On the whole, it
does not seem an unreasonable, or even an over-confident
argument, that regards animal fables found all over the
world as " the like working of men's minds under like
conditions." A strictly fair comparison of American
animal stories or fables with similar fables in the Old
World would bring out in a clearer light the point I
make, namely — that these fables or stories are most often
a separate invention. An example will make my
meaning plain.
In the late Mrs. E. A. Smith's collection of Iroquois
myths for the Bureau of Ethnology will be found the
story of ' How the Bear lost his Tail.' The Fox meets
a Bear one day who was anxious to obtain some fish.
" Well," said the Fox, "down at the river you will find
an air-hole in the ice; just put your tail down in to it as I
did, and you can draw out all the fish you want." The
Bear follows the directions carefully, but, the themome-
ter being down to zero, or below, his tail is frozen off.
The story ends with a mock duel between the infuriated
Bear and the cunning Fox.
Now, in Joel Chandler Harris' celebrated stories of
" Uncle Remus," will be found an account of ' How Mr.
Rabbit lost his Fine Bushy Tail.' In this case Mr.
Rabbit is duped by the Fox, in the very same way that
the Bear was victimized. Mr. Rabbits drops his fine,
long bush}- tail in the cold stream, where it soon freezes
fast, and he is compelled to leave it in order to get away.
There are several European equivalents of this story.
In his " Popular Tales from the Norse," Dr. Dasent has
compared the Norse story of the Bear, who, being in-
duced by the Fox to fish through the ice, till his tail is
frozen fast, pulls it off in order to get away, with the
story from Bornu of the Hyaena, who is told by the
Weasel to put his tail in the hole, but the Weasel ties a
stick to it, and the Hyaena likewise, in his haste to get
away, pulls till his tail comes off. Both of these stories,
with due regard for local coloring, attempt to account
tor the tailless condition of the Bear and of the Hyaena.
In the West Highland tale, given by Mr. Campbell,
the Fox shows the Wolf the moon on the ice, and tells
him it is cheese, which the Wolf must hide with his
tail, while he goes off to see whether the farmer is asleep.
Instead of that the Fox wakes up the fanner, and in
order to get away, the Wolf must leave his tail fast in
the ice. Both in this story and in Grimm's well-known
story, the episode lacks most of its point by attributing
the losing of the tail to such an animal as the Wolf.
It is to be observed, however, that all these different
stories are variants of the medieval story in the " Roman
de Renart." Now the question is, did the North
American Indian get the story from the Norseman, or
did the Southern negro take his version from the
German? Certainly not, although the frame- work of
the story is the same in each. Was it necessary for the
Indian, the Negro, the Celt, to get the German or me-
dieval explanation of why the Bear or the Rabbit had
stumpy-tails. Certainly not; although the medieval
account is indeed very plausible. These stories were
invented before Uncle Remus was "bred en bawn."
It is not to be denied that a number of American
folk tales have either been modified or borrowed from
Old World sources. Thus, Mr. E. B. Tylor gives
eight American tales which he regards as "indications
of a deep-rooted connexion" between Noith America
and the Old World. (The Early History of Man-
kind, p. 340.) These eight tales are : The World-Tortoise,
The Man Swallowed by the Fish, The Sun Catcher,
The Ascent of Heaven by the Tree, The Bridge of the
Dead, The Fountain of Youth, The Tail-fisher, and The
Diable B >itcux. Space forbids an examination of these
stories and their analogues in the Old World. Some of
the versions are quite similar, I admit; others have only
a casual likeness; others, again, are alike because they
grexv up under like conditions.
But I think that much, or even most, of the planta-
tion folk-lore — foi the collection of which students are
so greatly indebted to Mr. Harris — can be best explained
by the theory of conscious borrowing. Any one who
has read Dr. Bleek's "Reynard the Fox in South
Africa," will be puzzled to decide whether the Hottentot
stories are indigenous, or were transmitted by the Dutch.
But the reader of Harris's "Uncle Remus," will not be
puzzled to decide whether the stories are original with
the Southern slaves, or were carried by them from their
homes in Africa. The plantation-folk tales were largely
brought to the United States. One or two writers have
traced some of our Southern animal fables to their
mediaeval or classical variants — a fact that may be ac-
counted for by the different European stories, and story
books (La Fontaine's Fables, perhaps) doubtless at the
master's house on the plantation. We have good rea-
sons for believing that the negroes heard versions of La
Fontaine's Fables and after telling and re-telling, the
66+
THE OPEN COURT.
stories were added to, or changed here and there, to su^t
the purposes of the narrator.
Very surprising, at first was the remarkable similarity
noticed between these negro stories and the stories of
a tribe of South American Indians. This branch of
comparative folk-lore was very early treated by Prof. T.
F. Crane, of Cornell.* During his geological explora-
tions in Brazil the late Prof. C. F. Hartt collected a
small number of stories which he heard at Santarem, on
the Amazons. Later, Mr. Herbert Smith, in his
"Brazil, the Amazons, and the Coast," likewise collected
a number of animal fables, and called attention to their
analogues elsewhere. Still later, Mr. Harris was forci-
bly struck by the resemblances between his own collec-
tion of stories and Mr. Smith's collection. There could
he no mistake; the tales were clearly related. Prof.
Crane's conclusion is summed up as follows: "That
the negroes of the United States obtained these stories
from South American Indians is an hypothesis no one
would think of maintaining; but that the Indians heard
these stories from the African slaves in Brazil, and that the
.... latter brought these stories with them from Africa
is, we think, the explanation of the resemblances we have
noted." We regret that we can not give, at this time,
the very interesting parallels between the stories com-
mon to Hartt, Smith, and ' Uncle Remus,' upon which
Prof. Crane bases his reasonable conclusion. And now,
our remarks, already too long, must be brought to a close.
Before doing so I wish to bring two points home to the
mind of every reader of these rather sketchy papers.
The first point is that the work of the careful student
of folk-lore is primarily one of comparison — analysis. He
must first of all be well equipped in order to follow the
conditions imposed by the science of comparative my-
thology— the science which compares the stories, the
same as comparative philology compares the speech of
tribes or peoples. He must also have the true literary
flair, or scent. Hence the folk-lore student should
possess — to borrow an ingenious phrase from Balzac —
the legs of a deer and the patience of a Jew. He should
l>e able to follow unweariedly as Dr. Bleek has done, the
tracks of Reynard the Fox in South Africa. He should
not lose all patience, if after all he finds that, instead of
Reynard the Fox, he lias been following a winding trail
after an anise-seed bag.
My second point is, that every reader should (and
can) be a folk-lorist, so to speak. There are few locali-
ties in the United States that do_jiot have some peculiar
item of superstition, or legendary lore. All these items
of low civilization in the midst of our so-called "high"
civilization should be industriously gathered and pre-
served. Dr. George E. Ellis recently submitted a pro-
posal to the Massachusetts Historical Society for the
formation of a folk-lore society, and for the establishing
*Prof. Crane's article maybe found in Pop. Science Monthly, for 1SS1.
of a journal to publish the remains of American folk-lore.
It is to be hoped that many of our students will co-op-
erate in this work, by collecting the legends and super-
stitions they may happen to come across. Truly the
student who will do for American folk-stories what
Jacob Grimm, for example, did for German Mahrchen,
will surely meet with deserved reward.
THE SPECIFIC ENERGIES OF THE NERVOUS
SYSTEM.
BY DR. EWALD HERING.
( Conclusion. )
The specific energies of the living substance in the
different organs are characterized by their chemical or
physical functions; while in the present state of science
the energies of the nervous substance can be recognized,
only by the different sensations which they produce in
our consciousness. Our sensations as well as all the
phenomena of consciousness are the psychological
expressions of physiological processes or the irritations
of our nerves, — especially of our brain. Vice versa these
irritations are the material expression of the processes in
our soul.
The soul does not stir, unless the brain moves
simultaneously. Whenever the same sensation or the
same thought recurs, a certain physical process which
belongs to this special sensation or thought is repeated;
for both are inseparably connected. They are con-
ditioned by and productive of each other. Accordingly
from the course of our sensations we can draw inferences
concerning the simultaneous and corresponding course of
processes in the brain. The resolution of our sensations
into their various elements is at the same time an analysis
of the involved interactions of the various elementary
cerebral functions or irritations.
For instance, let us suppose that the great variety of
the sensations of light and color can be reduced to a few
simple or elementary sensations, to those of the principal
colors, which by combining in different proportions
can produce innumerable different sensations. This fact,
if proven, would justify the conclusion that different
kinds of elementary irritations can take place also in the
nervous substance of the visual organ. Each of them
corresponds to one of the elementary sensations, and the
elementary irritations can be arranged in a manner
analogous to that of the elementary sensations. Or
similarly, if we succeed in reducing all the many and
various gustatory sensations to a few simple sensations,
we may again justly infer that a corresponding number
of elemental}' irritations can be produced in the nerve
substance of the tongue.
Consequently the analysis of our sensations leads us
to recognize the fact that what Johannes Muller sum-
marily called the specific energy of a sensory nerve may
be resolved into a certain number of elementary irrita-
tions. But we need not assume that a distinct nerve
THE OPEN COURT.
665
element is a medium for each simple irritation.
The same nerve cell can produce the sensation of heat or
of cold according to the direction in which its specific
energy is irritated. The same fiber of the visual organ
can be irritated in different ways and thus convey cor-
respondingly different sensations of color.
Each single kind of irritation, therefore, does not
necessarily correspond to one and the same nervous
substance. The specific energy of a certain nerve-
element is not merely a simple property, it is not a
faculty which causes only one kind of function, it is a
multiform potency.
The power of specializing and individualizing its
functions is an inborn quality of living substance, and
bears the richest and most wonderful fruit in the nervous
system. In this respect the nervous system far surpasses
all other organs.
One fiber of a muscle performs the same function as
all its other fibers, and even the fibers of different
muscles possess essentially the very same energy. One
liver cell works as all the other liver cells do, and
it cannot work otherwise. The intensity of a function
may be different in the different fibers or cells of such an
organ, but the kind of function is common to all.
Not so in the nervous system. The various energies
in the various groups of the nervous elements are innate.
By an innate faculty the optic nerve of the new-born
babe responds to the ray of light which enters the eye with
a sensation of light, and the nerve of the skin responds
to an increase of temperature with a sensation of warmth.
The specific energy of almost all other organs is
definitely fixed at the time of birth and will change in
the further development of life in degree only, — but
never in character.
The muscle fiber of a babe conti acts in the same way,
and thus exhibits the same energy, as does the muscle
fiber of an adult person. The liver cell of an old man
produces bile just as does the liver cell of a child. The
muscle as well as the liver grows with the entire man,
but the fibers and cells added can always perform only
one and the same function. Some fibers and cells
perish in the course of life, but those which take their
place merely perform the functions of the replaced
fibers and cells.
Thus the innate energy of almost all organs remains
unchanged throughout life. The individual small
cell organisms of which the organs consist come and go,
one generation follows another, in some organs more
rapidly and in others more slowly. The living substance
of each single element is consumed and then replaced
by nutrition, but their faculty and activity always
remain the same. In the nervous system all this is very
different. Although, as a rule, the innate energies of
many regions, especially in the peripheral nervous sys-
tem, remain unchanged throughout life, there is in the
nei vous system of a new-born babe some living substance
which is ready to be moulded for the performance of
this or that function and for the development of this
or that individual energy.
Above all, the brain of a new-born babe is not a
completed structure. It grows and develops; and if the
externally visible growth has reached its limits, the
internal process of formation continues. Up to the moment
of birth the nervous system with the brain is developed
according to its own inner law. Until then, neither
light nor sound nor any other sensory irritation has
affected the nerves and the brain has been asleep. After
birth thousands of new incitations at once intrude from
the external world upon the nervous system. The
eye is opened to the vibrations of ether and sound waves
obtrude upon the ear, pressure and impact, cold and
warmth affect the skin — thus placing the brain which
heretofore was left to itself, under the influence and
discipline of the external world.
Before birth the chemical processes of the nervous
system, its change of matter and its growth, depended
upon internal conditions of life. After birth the incita-
tions of the external world excite the brain and produce
a more vigorous exchange of matter for further develop-
ment and increase of the living substance. The further
development, the inner formation and cultivation hence-
forth depend upon occurrences in the external world
which the brain experiences.
All living substance, especially nerve matter, has
the peculiarity that every irritation produced in a limited
region at once spreads to the adjoining parts. It con-
tinues spreading as long as it meets with any substance
which is capable of being similarly irritated and which,
so to speak, responds to such irritation.
The specific irritation awakened in the sensory
nerves by external causes, is thus transmitted to the virgin
parts of the brain. Here in the most youthful and most
docile living substance, the irritation terminates, and here
every kind of irritation finds its echo. For this substance
which possesses no innate and definitely specialized
energy, has not yet through the frequent repetition
of a certain kind of irritation lost the susceptibility for
all other irritations.
If the virgin substance of the brain is excited and
internally agitated by an irritation which has been trans-
mitted through the nerve fibers of the sensory organs,
an increased ability to reproduce the same kind of irrita-
tion is acquired by a permanent change of its internal
structure. If the sensory nerve again transmits the
same irritation, the cerebral substance responds to it more
easily. The oftener it is repeated, the stronger will grow
the inclination to reproduce just this kind of irritation.
Through frequent repetition, one particular kind of func-
tion becomes, as it were, the second nature of a single cere-
bral cell, i.e. the cell acquires this special ability or energy.
666
THE OPBN COURT
In this way the individual energies of the cerebral cells
and fibers are developed by education on the basis of the
inherited dispositions. Also the additional energy which
the cells acquire during life, is transmitted by inheritance
upon the new formed cells which are generated by parti-
tion. These new cells can in their turn develop, evolve
or modify the inherited energy.
The anatomical arrangement of the brain is such as
to place (single) parts of the so-called gray substance
into a particularly intimate relation with special sensory
nerves. The irritation of a sensory nerve fiber will
necessarily seize upon and affect those cerebral cells first
which are in closest connection with it. But each
cerebral cell is connected with other cerebral cells by a
net-work of most delicate nerve fibers.
The irritation which enters from the sensory nerve
fiber into the gray substance, can advance (through those
cerebral elements which are excited first) in all direc-
tions farther and farther into the labyrinth of the cere-
bral cells and fibers until at last it dies out and ceases
sooner or later, or in exchange, calls forth new irritations
which starting from the brain return to the peripheral
nervous system.
Every cerebral element is subject to the educating
influence of those sensory nerve fibers with which it is
anatomically connected and whose energies are most
closely related to it. But these single cerebral elements
can receive irritations, although in a weaker degree, also
from the adjoining fibers of the same sensory nerve and
even from those nerve fibers which enter the gray sub-
stance in more remote parts and which originate in other
sensory organs.
In this way the cerebral substance is constantly per-
meated with many diverse irritations, which crowd upon
it from all the sensory regions. The cerebral cell will
be particularly educated for the qualities of these irrita-
tions. According to the opportunity of easily and repeat-
edly receiving irritation from this or that sensory organ
and from such or such a sensory nerve fiber. It will ac-
quire the faculty of reproducing them vigorously, as
often as an incitation, be it ever so weak, is offered.
Consequently every single cerebral element in the
course of its development and under the influence of
sensory experience attains an individual character. And
it may be asserted that not even two of the innumerable
cerebral cells are alike in kind and degree of individual
energy. If one cerebral cell is destroyed there would of
course be many others which possess in all essential points
the same energy, and can by their functions compensate
its loss, but no other cerebral element could do exactly
the same work with exactly the same individual ability,
with the same ease and exactness, as no man can, in all
respects, entirely replace another man.
Experience and practice rest upon this specialisation
and individualization of the functions in the different
cerebral elements, and the energies of the nervous sub-
stance which are developed in the course of our life are
the organic expression of our individual memory.
The nervous system, and above all the brain, is the
grand instrumentarium of consciousness. Each single
cerebral element is a particular tool. Consciousness
may be likened to workingmen whose tools gradually
become so numerous, so various and so specialized that
he has for every detail of his work a tool which is
specially adapted to perform just this kind of work
most easily and accurately. If he loses one of his tools, he
still possesses a thousand other tools to do the same work
although with more difficulty and loss of time. Should
he lose these thousands also, he might retain hundreds,
with which he can possibly do his work still, but the diffi-
culty increases. He must have lost a very large number
of his tools if certain actions became absolutely impossible.
The knowledge of the tools alone does not suffice to
ascertain what work is performed by the tools. The
anatomist therefore will never understand the labyrinth'
of cerebral cells and fibers and the physiologist will
never comprehend the thousand-fold intertwined actions
of its irritations, unless they succeed in resolving the
phenomena of consciousness into their elements in order
to obtain from the kind and strength, from the progres-
sion and connection of our perceptions, sensations and
conceptions, a clear idea about the kind and progression
of the material processes in the brain. Without this clue
the brain will always be like a closed book to us.
We can also compare the brain to a book. A book
is anatomically a number of rectangular white leaves
bound on one side and marked on their pages with
numerous black spots of different form and size. Under
a microscope the leaves will be seen to consist of delicate
fibers, and the black spots of minute black granules. A
chemical analysis will show that the leaves are cellulose,
the spots carbon and a resinous oil. If all this has been
investigated and ascertained with the utmost accuracy,
we do not know, in the least, why the black spots are
arranged just in this and in no other way, why some
spots are large and others small, why some occur fre-
quently others rarely, why the single leaves follow one
another in this and in no other order, and altogether what
the whole book really means.
Whoever wishes to know what the book signifies
must know what is the function of the specific energy
of each single letter and of the individual energy of each
single word — in short he must know how to read.
Nothing can be fully explained by a simile, and it is
perhaps dangerous to attempt to adorn the dry language
of science with allegories.
But let a scientist wear his working apparel while
plowing the field of his science; and when, on a festive
occasion he offers the fruits of his labor to others, he
should be welcome in a festive garment.
THE OPEN COURT.
667
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THURSDAY, JANUARY 5, 188S.
THE UNKNOWABLE.
The most modern specter that is haunting the
realms of philosophy goes under the odd name of
the Unknowable. Ghosts and goblins are done away with
by science, but, in spite of that, superstition returns and
assumes a vaguer and more indistinct form in the idea of
an indefinite and undefinable something which is sup-
posed to be an inscrutable mystery. Some people fear
it as a hidden power, — some reverence it as the embodi-
ment of perfection, — some love it as a fit object of their
unaccountable longings, — and almost all who in their
fantastical visions imagine to conceive it, bow down
and worship it. It is the Baal of modern philosophy,
and even the idoloclasts of the nineteenth century have
not freed themselves from this fetich. While denounc-
ing supernaturalism in the religious creeds of to-day,
they preach the supernaturalism of a mystic Unknowable
which lies beyond human experience, and do not seem
to be aware of their inconsistency.
The unknown is by no means the unknowable, for
our ignorance in some subject does not justify the
dogmatic assertion, that it can not be known at all.
The belief in the Unknowable is the significant fea-
ture of agnosticism^ and agnosticism is just as much
dualistic as is supernaturalism. It separates the world
into two distinct existences, — the natural and knowable
world, — and the unknowable or mysterious realm which
either lies beyond or is interwoven with nature so as to
infect Nature herself and render her plainest and most
lucid phenomena unintellegible and enigmatic.
The realm of this mysterious Unknowable is gener-
ally supposed to be the province of religion, and this
error naturally prompts people to declare that religion
cann'ot have a scientific basis. The object of religion,
they assert lies beyond human cognition and experi-
ence: otherwise, they say, religion could not exist.
The Unknowable is like the fog which, as the
Anglo-Saxon saga relates, was rising in the shape of
the giant Giendel from the fens and marshes in Jutland,
and daunted the //alls of men. "A Beowolf is wanted
to slay this ogre; and Beowolf represents the wholesome
light and warmth of the sun. Before the rays of truth
which science pours forth, the foggy monster of the
Unknowable gradually disappears and reveals to the
human eye reality as it is.
The father of agnosticism is not so much Herbert
Spencer as Kant, who divided the world in tilings as
they appear to us and things as they are in themselves.
The former are mere phenomena or states of conscious-
ness in our minds, while the latter he supposed to be
inaccessible to cognition.
Now, idealism is quite correct in so far as things
themselves do not enter our brain. It is undeniable that
our cognition consists in images, and even the most
scientific and philosophic conceptions of the world are
constructed of images of things. If these images and
the ideas abstracted from them agree with and conform
to the things which they represent, they are true; other-
wise, they are erroneous. Cognition means nothing
more or less than the correct representation of things in
psychic images and ideas, and things are knowable
because they can be mirrored in the brains of reasonable
beings.
Kant proved that all knowledge is relative; absolute
cognition does not exist. This is irrefutably true, for
cognition pre-supposes a relation between a cognizing
subject and a cognized object. This relation is the es-
sential feature and conditio sine qua no>i of cognition. Ac-
cordingly Kant proved that absolute cognition is im-
possible. So far he is right ; but when, for the protec-
tion of old theologies, he says " I must abolish knowledge
to make room for belief," he goes too far. A thing
which is impossible does not exist, and the Kantian things
in themselves (absolute things), which as such are be-
yond our ken, do not exist either.
The existence of a thing implies the manifestation of
its existence. It exists only in so far as it manifests itself.
Absolute existence which is not manifested in some way
means non-existence, it is a contradictio in adjecto and a
chimerical impossibility. And this, I believe, is the solu-
tion of Hegel's dictum, as quoted by Prof. Cope in his
essay Evolution and Idealism, "Existence and non-ex-
istence are identical." This is true if Hegel refers to an
absolute existence or an existence in or by itself.
The world, however, does not consist of things
recognizable — and of fog around them. Natural phenom-
ena are not effects of transcendent causes from trans-
mundane sources. Nature is one throughout, and
natural phenomena are linked together by causation.
668
THE OPEN COURT.
Causality, the law of causation, is not a capricious
ukase of a mysterious power; fundamentally it is the
same as the logical rule of indentity or the arithmetical
formula " once one is one." Causality is the law of
identity in change; which means that wherever any
change takes place the elementary particles of matter
remain the same — their form only is changed hy some
transposition of their parts.
It is universally accepted that all phenomena of Na-
ture occur according to the law of cause and effect. And
this irrefragable causality is the reason why Nature is in-
telligible throughout. Scientific research is nothing but
the tracing of effects to their causes. There are many
problems which have not yet been investigated, and
there are innumerable things we do not yet know of,
but there are no phenomena in the world which per se
are unintelligible. The vastness and grandeur of the
world are so great that the province of science is un-
limited, and that after each discovery new problems
will constantly present themselves to keep the inquiring
scientist busy; but there is no phenomenon which can in
itself be declared unknowable. Nature is knowable and
Nature's essence is intelligibility; there is no transmun-
dane or supernatural existence beyond Nature.
The doctrine is often repeated, that man has a hanker-
ing after the Unknowable. Some scientists suppose it to
be a characteristic feature of man. Max Muller, in his
answer to Darwin, says incidentally with regard to this
longing for the mysterious, " Cela me passe''' ; and there
may be found more men of his stamp who agree with
Max Muller on this point. Science, to be sure, rests on
the supposition that all phenomena and all things are
cognizable.
The agnostic's usual objection to discarding the Un-
knowable is that " No one can explain what matter is ; we
know what metal is and what wood is, but the ultimate
principle of metal and of wood, matter itself, is unknow-
able."
This objection shows how dualistic agnosticism is.
The agnostic, or he who proposes such objection, con-
ceives wood, on the one hand, as a knowable thing hav-
ing properties which can be recognized by experiment;
but, on the other hand, beyond or behind or within this
knowable thing, he supposes, an unknowable essence
exists which we call matter. And this unknowable
matter is the cause of the knowable which, in this parti-
cular case, appears to be wood or metal.
The word "matter" is a generalization which is ab-
stracted from all the many different matters. Wood as
well as metal is matter, both have the properties of
matter in common, and each have in addition some
special characteristic qualities. Iron again has all pro-
perties of metal and some other special ones besides.
But matter is not a thing in itself which exists behind or
beyond the real existences. It is a chiffrc, or symbol,
devised for economizing our thought, and we cannot
expect more of such an abstract concept than the fulfil-
ment of its purpose. Matter is a generalization, but there
is no mystery about it.
The same holds good with all other generalizations
which become mysterious only when, hy some miscon-
ception, they are supposed to be real things beside or
beyond or within the things from which they are
abstracted.
Another objection of the agnostic is the "unintelligi-
bility of the Infinite"; and the Infinite (which then is
spelt with a capital I) is declared to be the object of
religious worship. Even Prof. Max Muller joins (or at
least seems to join) the agnostic in his definition of re-
ligion. However, the Infinite is as little mysterious as
abstractions. It is as plain as any arithmetical calcula-
tion. When I count, I may count up to a hundred or to
a thousand or to a million, or to whatever number I please.
If I do not stop for other reasons, I may count on without
stopping — in a word, into infinity. The Infinite accord-
ingly is a mathematical chiffre denoting a process with-
out limits. The mathematician employs the chiffre, and
there is no mystery about it.
If the Infinite is not a thing to be worshiped, but a
mathematical or arithemetical process, we can produce
an infinitude wherever we can apply such an infinite
process. If we soar into the heavens and let our
thoughts wander into cosmic space, we may proceed
from star to star in the milky way, and beyond we shall
perhaps reach other milky ways. If we still proceed, we
may wander in empty space into infinitude. If these
wanderings were possible we need stop as little as in
counting.
A drop of mercury can just as well be used as an
instance of infinitude as the universe. It can be divided
into two halves, and each half is again divisible. It is
divisible ad infinitum because the division is a process
which may be carried on as long as one pleases. The
infinitely small is no more a thing in itself than the
infinitely great, and there is no more mystery in the one
than in the other.
The Unknowable is a dogma in the negative creed of
agnosticism, and the agnostic clings to it as if it were
sacred. He argues, it must exist, because man cannot
grasp the entirety of nature — because man cannot com-
prehend the ultimate principle or raison d'etre of
phenomena. The world, — the whole universe, as well as
the details of nature — are so wonderful and so mys-
teriously marvelous that we cannot but believe in the
Unknowable, and the very existence of the world is
incomprehensible.
The ultimate raisons d'etre of mathematics are the
most simple and self-evident axioms, and it is to be ex-
pected that the ultimate raison d'etre of natural pheno-
mena is just as simple and self-evident. It is true that
THE OPEN COURT.
669
the world, as a whole and in its several phenomena,
is most wonderful, and wherever we inquire into
Nature, Nature is grand and sublime. But there is
no mystery about it — no unknowahility. Nature is
essentially knowable, and beyond Nature is empty non-
existence.
As to existence in general, it is &facl which is by no
means unknowable. " But its cause is unknowable,"
the agnostic says. Tbis would be true if the dualistic
view were correct But as matters are, the question as
to what is the cause of the world is unjustifiable. The
world is not an effect of an unknown and transcendent
cause. The world is a reality — it is the sum of all exist-
ence; and our idea of the world as a whole is the most
general and comprehensive abstraction of this reality.
The dualistic theologian whose God is a supernatural and
transmundane being, says, God is the cause of the world.
If this argumentation were allowable we must further
ask, What is the cause of God? But the question itself,
as to the cause of existence in general, is not admissible;
for the law of causation is applicable to all phenomena
of Nature, but not to the existence of Nature, which
must be accepted as a fact.
The Unknowable must be considered as a personifi-
cation, or at least substantiation, of an abstract idea.
Goethe says, somewhere, "Man rarely realizes how
anthropomorphic he is."
The belief in the unknowable is perhaps in the
psychical development of man, as Auguste Compte says,
the natural intermediate stage between the standpoint of
old theological views and scientific positivism.* The
surest way out of the maze of the agnostic unknowable,
is to define first what is knowable before making state-
ments about the unknowable. If we do so we shall find
that Faust's complaint is not true when he says:
"That which one does not know, one needs to use;
And what one knows, one uses never."
Nature with all her rich and wonderful, works lies
within the sphere of the Knowable and those questions
as to the cause of existence at large (transcendent
topics as Kant styles them) which by their very nature
admit of no answer, are — as explained above — not justi-
fied.
The human soul was, by a dualistic misinterpreta-
tion, supposed to be supernatural, because the human
mind soared far above all other natural existences.
But, the human soul, although it surpasses the nature 01
* I had myself to overcome the metaphysicism, aslhad previously to over-
come the supernaturalistic views ot my childhood. Careful readers of my
pamphlet Monism and Meliorism will find that where I speak of the limit of our
cognition I do not mean that there is something Unknowable beyond that limit.
The limits of cognition are subjective not objective. The essential feature ot
explaining natural phenomena is to classify one special case under a general
law which embodies its reason, or its gronnd, or its principle of explanation.
By ascending from special reasons to more general reasons we must at least
come to the universal reason, which whatever is may be, is the ultimate princi-
ple of explanation. This ultimate principle or raison d'etre is the natural limit
of our reasoning, for it would be absurd to ask for a more general principle
than the universal principle.
animal existence, remains Nature — it is onlyNature of a
higher kind.
Nature, it is true, is wonderful; but what is most
wonderful it is that the most intricate and complicated
phenomena of Nature are marvelously simple in their ulti-
mate elementary causes. The problems of the world are
innumerable, the range of inquiry is infinite, and all
problems as to the causes of natural phenomena are
solvable, for, throughout, Nature is intelligible.
CHRISTMAS GIFTS.
The holiday season with its Christmas tree, Christ-
mas gifts and New Years wishes is passed and we have
returned to our usual occupations. A joyous reflection
is still lingering over the remembrance of these days of
merry family life and love of mankind, for the gifts of
the Christmas table are with us and remind us of their
beloved givers. How poor are those who are devoid of
these joys which giving and receiving affords. A
picture in Puck shows us Santa Clans turning his
back to the circles of the rich where he finds such
plenty as to render him with his gifts superfluous.
The lesson taught in this picture is that the poor in love
and in the enjoyment of love are, as a rule, the rich, —
while the poor are often blessed with an immeasurable
wealth of this festive happiness. It is the same lesson
taught by Christ when he said: "It is easier for a
camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich
man to enter into the kingdom of God." And may we
add: " For a rich man to have a merry Christmas?"
Is it his riches which prevent him from enjoying
the giving and receiving of gifts of love? Oh no, on
the contrary thev enable him to enjoy the greater joy of
giving more liberally than his poorer fellow man can do.
If a man is deprived of his merry Christmas, although
he is not in needy circumstances, it is he himself who
has robbed himself of it, — it is his own stolid heart which
debars him from the warmth which, during this festive
time more than usually, pervades all mankind.
There is a charm in a Christmas gift which is
imparted only to those who are fit to receive it. Some-
thing of the giver attaches to every gift, something of
his sympathy, love or friendship, and this difficult to
define but very definite something gives to the gift its
real value. The value of the gift in money is its market
value. The real value lies concealed in the sentiments
of the donor and receiver ; it contains part of the donor's
soul which is transmitted to the receiver. But this
sentiment must be reciprocated in order to be transmitted.
The donor and receiver must be in a sympathetic com-
munion of some kind. There must be some relation or
connection, and it is the revealing and acknowledge-
ment of this connection, of which the transfer of a gift is
a symbol. Christmas is the festival of family life and of
universal love of humanity. It preaches the unity of
670
THE OPEN COURT
the human race, the unity of all intellectual and spiritual
life in the world.
This is the source of the right enjoyment of Christmas
gifts and wherever it is lacking, Santa Claus turns his
back, in spite of rich gifts or the exchange of precious
presents. But wherever it obtains, people feel rich and
are rich because of this immeasurable wealth of love and
good will, which are a treasure where neither moth nor
rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through
and steal.
It is this wealth which gives to the widow's mite its
value, it is the essential and indispensable life-blood in
everything that is truly humane or great, and it is also
the quintessence of the religious sentiment.
SURSUM .
BY * * *
Onward our march must be,
Faithful and true!
Nobler humanity will us imbue.
No pain nor trouble shun,
Sternly our duty done,
Faithful and true!
Let us by mental power
Passions control.
Patiently elevate the human soul.
Though our paths thorny be,
Let us with honesty
Strive for our goal.
Progress and laboring
Never must tire.
" One with the Cosmos," be that our desire !
Strong our alliance be,
Onward with constancy
Nobly aspire.
THE EDUCATION OF PARENTS BY THEIR CHIL-
DREN.
BY CARTS STERNE.
( Conclusion.)
In the animal kingdom the father does not get the
benefit of the ennobling influence of the rearing of the
young wherever he does not participate in it; and as a
rule he does not.
But, generally speaking, this loss is not great; for if
the refining power, which the rearing of the young
exerts, leaves any appreciable effects in the female, the
same is transmitted to her male offspring, making them
sharers in its wholesome influence.
Elsewhere we have seen that the systematic care of
the young develops most favorably in the case of birds
and mammals. The earliest birds, like the reptiles,
probably left their eggs to be hatched by the sun ; for
even now, birds of the lower species require the aid of
solar or terrestrial heat when hatching their eggs.
Sitting on their eggs is now the general practice of
birds; but there is a noticeable distinction between the
higher and the lower species, the young of the latter
leaving the nest and becoming independent very early,
while those of the former must be fed and cared for in
the nest for weeks.
This care, necessitated by the helplessness of the
little ones, is undoubtedly the cause of the numerous
instances of kindness and charity towards the young of
other birds.
Singing birds possess a perfect passion for self-
sacrifice, and it has been observed that they have repeat-
edly adopted and reared orphaned birdlings. As is well
known, some feathered tramps regularly take advantage
of this trait of the kind-hearted singing birds in the most
shameless manner.
Birds have also been seen to feed their blind com-
panions, and do innumerable things for which men
expect to be rewarded on earth and in heaven.
I do not think that similar acts are seen among lower
species of animals unaccustomed to care for their young.
The conflict with egotism here begins, ending in self-
sacrifice and self-denial, which has been pronounced the
greatest victory.
The result of this conflict becomes more apparent in
mammals, where a closer relation exists between mother
and child, and finally reaches a point of extravagance
which is almost absurd. The child is part of its mother,
not only in a physical, but also in a spiritual sense, and
it is a well-known fact that the affection of the mother is
all the greater where much anxiety has been involved
in the rearing of the child.
The lower animals are all self-taught, and only those
that live in communities, such as the termites, ants, bees,
etc., perhaps attend to the training of their young.
A self-taught creature can rarely accomplish as much
as one that has had careful instruction — a fact daily
demonstrated by birds that have been taught by their
own kind or by human beings.
In my opinion, the systematic instruction of the young
in mammals, partly accounts for the really marvellous
growth of the brain in this class of animals. Observe a
cat train her young; note how systematically she pro-
ceeds from play to work, from the easy to the more
difficult. While nursing some of her litter, she uses her
tail to teach the others to observe and hold something
animate. Then she catches animals to instruct the little
ones in the rudiments of the chase, and finally shows
them how to catch birds and mice.
But — I cannot but repeat — not only do the young
learn from the mother, but she, in turn, learns to renounce
the empty vanities of life for their sake, and pursue
more satisfactory pleasures. The extent of the effects
THE OPEN COURT.
671
of this may be seen in the characteristics of animals of
all the higher types.
For example, let us take the elephant. Not to serve
as food for man, but merely for the sake of its tusks, of
which innumerable knick-knacks are made, this noble
animal appears destined to speedy extinction. To secure
it with ease, the bushes in which it hides are set on fire.
Surrounded by flames, exposed to certain destruction, it
gives affecting proofs of heroism. Regardless of the
intense heat scorching its hide, it fills its trunk with
water, as Schweinfurth tells us, and spurts it over its
offspring, in order to save it at least from destruction.
I wish that this story were repeated in every
school, so that at least a portion of the future generation
might be induced to abandon the fashion of using
the various toys and other articles made of ivory.
In this instance we clearly perceive how the love for
its offspring develops the ingenuity of the animal. In the
moment of unforeseen peril it applies the means of cool-
ing, which, in the heat of the African desert it has discov-
ered to be effective. It betrays a higher impulse, which,
without this incentive, could not, and would not exist.
I hold that the altruistic impulses, which we observe
in animals living in communities, are the result of their
earliest training, just as, in the case of human beings, a
man is first initiated into the higher religion of active
humanity, in the nursery.
Undoubtedly much of this feeling has already
become part of human nature, as may be seen in the
instinctive altruistic impulses, and the disposition to
render assistance to others, as when, for instance, one
who cannot swim plunges into the water to rescue a
drowning man.
The above-described moderator of animal egotism
may be said to prove its highest efficacy, when parents
attempt by force to instill into their children, what the
nursery and the school of life are wont to teach, — the
control of natural impulses.
Generally the punishment of the little ones causes
gi eater suffering to the parents than to the children.
The former must carry on that hardest of battles with
their own affections, unless anger and indignation come
to their aid. The essentially moral significance of these
actions was sincerely appreciated by the great lover of
humanity, who applied this means of education even to
the highest ideal, God, and exclaimed: "For whom
the Lord loveth, he chasteneth."
It seems to me that psychologists have never duly
recognized the importance of family life, as the fountain-
head of the highest and noblest impulses.
This little sketch will have accomplished its purpose,
if it establishes the belief that love is fundamentally a
natural phenomenon, which in all its forms of evolution,
even to the veneration of the " Woman Soul," has the
strong roots of its power in family life.
CORRESPONDENCE.
THE POSSIBILITIES OF MAL OBSERVATION AND
LAPSE OF MEMORY, AS VIEWED BY
RICHARD HODGSON, LL. D.*
To the Editor:
Having just finished reading the proceedings of the .Society
for Psychical Research (London, England, May No., 1SS7J, and
being especially interested in the one hundred and thirteen pages
by Richard Hodgson, LL. D., on "The Possibilities of Mal-
Observation and Lapse of Memory," I cannot forbear jotting
down a few facts arising " from a practical point of view," as
given by this distinguished critical scientist and investigator, for
the benefit of the readers of The Open Court.
Dr. Hodgson states in his Introduction, that up to ten vears
ago, when he attended his first seance, he had regarded the
opinions of Professor Wallace on Spiritualism as mainly correct;
that " in every case the investigators have either retired baffled
or become converts"; " but hitherto" (the Doctor continues),
"the physical phenomena which I have witnessed were clearlv
ascertained by my friends and myself to be fraudulent, or they
were in conclusive and accompanied by circumstances which
strongly suggested trickery." Notwithstanding, Dr. Hodgson
adds: "Three years ago I was still under the impression that a
large mass of reliable testimony existed." But he further states,
" I have long since concluded that I estimated this testimony too
highly." In the meantime he visited India for the purpose of in-
vestigating the Theosophical phenomena of Madame Blavatsky.
Here he compared the testimony of many bona fide witnesses
to events belonging to the class of conjuring performances. The
different accounts which he heard from eye-witnesses of the
tricks of the Hindoo jugglers surprised him. He saw many
of these performances himself, and learned secretly from
the jugglers themselves, how they were done. This en-
abled him to detect more easily jugglery in Spiritualism. In
England, a man by the name of William Eglinton had dumb-
founded all beholders with his slate performances, materaliza-
tions, and consoling test-messages. Dr. Hodgson believed that
the witnesses were deceived by mal-observation, lapse of memory,
misdirection of attention and misdescription, and that Eglinton's
phenomena were all due to conjurers' tricks. With the advantage
of the experience gained from the Hindoo jugglers he was pre-
pared to compare actual occurrences with " the misdescriptions
given by intelligent spectators who were unaware of the modus
operandi of the tricks." lie found with the misdescriptions of
honest intelligent witnesses " the phenomena were perfectly
explicable by conjuring. But the most eminent defenders of
mediumistic phenomena refused to admit their validity or signifi-
cance," adds Dr. Hodgson. "They would not beliveve that mal-
observation, treachery of memory, misdirection of the attention,
and misdescription could lead so far astray the honest intelligent
witness, and that he could be deceived by a conjurer's tricks, and
mistake the same for evidences of the presence of spirits and
their operations."
This being so, a Mr. S. J. Davey {alias, Mr. David Clifford)
attempted all the feats of the medium Eglinton, and how wonder-
fully he succeeded is described in some one hundred pages. He
was supposed to have been a genuine medium, except by the few
who were in the secret; though, like John W. Truesdell-, of our
country, of Bottom Facts notoriety, he did not affirm it to be
spirits or receive compensation, but finally declared he did it all by
conjuring. As in Mr. Truesdell's case, he was not believed by
the Spiritualists.
* Dr. Hodgson is' secretary of the American Society for Psychical Research,
Boston, Massachusetts, and is credited with having exposed Madame
Blavatsky, of Theosophical fame.
672
THE OPEN COURT.
In Dr. Hodgson's article in the May number of the Psychical
Research, he fully demonstrates his affirmations of mal-observation
by the reports of honest intelligent witnesses, who, although
present at the same sittings, vary so widely in their descriptions
of the same proceedings that it amazes the reader. Furthermore,
Mr. Davey utterly denies the reports of his friends who assert
that they never take their eyes from the medium or the slate, or
that the slate never leaves their hand or sight, or is hidden away
under their coats; while Mr. Davey assures them their attention
was misled just long enough — perhaps thirty seconds — for him
to do what he desired in order to enable him to perform the jug-
glery. What renders this all the more interesting and satisfac-
tory is, Dr. Hodgson and others in the secret, witness the whole
operation, and know that Mr. Davey's affirmations are correct;
the same as I was privileged in thecase of Mr. Truesdell, and saw
him perform the -wonders himself] and know he tells the truth when
he declares " / know I do it myself.'"
What then becomes of Mr. Eglinton's claim to spirit aid and
power when Mr. Davey performs the same feats by jugglery?
And what becomes of Mr. Wallace's boast that "The physical phe-
nomena of Spiritualism have all, or nearly all, been before the
world for twenty years ; the theories and explanations of reviewers
and critics do not touch them, or in any way satisfy any sane
man who has repeatedly witnessed them; they have been tested
and examined by skeptics of every grade of incredulity, men in
every way qualified to detect imposture or to discover natural
causes — trained physicists, medical men, lawyers, and men of busi-
ness— but in every case the investigators have either retired
baffled, or become converts." Now, Dr. Hodgson has shown
that these men were not "qualified to detect imposture," by prov-
ing the imposture himself; that the jugglery was as far beyond
their perception as is the ordinary juggler's performances beyond
the ken of the crowds who gaze at them; that these "qualified
men" were not able, through mal-observation, lapse of memory,
and misdirection of attention, to even describe the occurrences of
a sitting accurately, when they themselves were the chief partici-
pants, and cautioned constantly to watch every movement lest
they be imposed upon by trickery.
I cannot forbear quoting from a review of the May number of
the above proceedings " By a Firm Believer," published in the
Pall Mall Gazette (London, September 6, 18S7): " The Society
for Psychical Research has been at it again. * * * When
Mdme. Blavatsky came, a few years ago, with her bright army of
gurus, theosophists, and chelas, to rescue us from the sordid reali-
ties of nineteenth century materialism, we were pleased, stimu-
lated, interested, and morally regenerated. Nobody asked the
Pyschical Society to interfere. But they did; and spoiled the fun,
too, in no time. Actually sent a man named Hodgson — a man
who called himself a gentleman — who reckoned up Mdme. Bla-
vatsky as if he were a detective and she a common card-cutter and
fortune-teller. He found out a lot of things which he might as
well have kept to himself; and the end was that Mdme. Blavatsky
was exposed by the very Society that might have been expected
to shield her.
" But one favorite of the unseen world was left to us. If we
wanted a message from a deceased relative, or a hint, written by
shadowy hands, as to the final mystery of existence, we could still
buy a three-penny slate; bring it to William Eglinton, and there
we were. You might wash that slate, and tie it up, and screw it
down, and never take your one eye off it and your other off William
Eglinton; you might grab it tight with your right hand and him
with your left; you might keep your questions un uttered in the
most secret recesses of your soul — yet when you untied and
unscrewed the slate you would find your answer, or your loved and
lost one's message, written there in her own writing and in anv
colored chalk you liked to name. * * *
" Nobody would believe the mean thing the Psychical went
and did under these circumstances. Hodgson was in it, of course;
but they got another man, named Davey, who, no doubt, dropped
the suffix Jones in order to hide the real nature of his powers. He
started slate-writing under the name of Clifford. * * *
Seconded from below, Davey set to work to do everything Mr,
Eglinton had done. He did not get the beautiful consoling
messages, * * * but, of course, he got the writing in the
colored chalks on the washed, tied, screwed, jealously-watched
slates, and all the merely extraordinary stuff, such as answering
hidden questions, quoting lines from books that had been
secretly selected from the shelves by the sitters, and other
things which are on the face of them utterly impossible except
by supernatural aid. And now he has the audacity to turn
round and declare that he is only a conjurer, and that therefore
poor Mr. Eglinton may l>e a conjurer too! * * * The inference
is obvious. The evidence for Mr. Davey's miracles is as striking
as that for Mr. Eglinton's. But Mr. Davey's miracles were
conjurer's tricks. Ergo, Mr. Eglinton's may also be conjuring
tricks. This may be convincing to materialists, who deem that
anything is more probable than that Mr. Davey should be in
league with the Powers of Darkness. But to us who already
know that Mr. Eglinton is in league with the Powers of Light,
such an unholy compact is far more credible than that a number
of respectable ladies and gentlemen should, even at the instigation
of the man who blasted the career of Mdme. Blavatsky, bear false
testimony. * * *
" They shall not take our Eglinton from us as they took our
Blavatsky."
Here follows a review of Mr. Morell Theobald's book of three
hundred pages, in which he " gives example after example of the
intimate and familiar intercourse which he has enjoyed for years
with the guardian spirits of his hearth." One of these " examples"
which " A Firm Believer " fancies " might touch even Mr.
Hodgson, so unforced is its simple domestic pathos," must
suffice.
" After breakfast, while M. was in another room, she heard
the knife machine going in the kitchen, where no one was, for
the boy who cleans the knives was out; and on my daughter
going in she found all the knives which we used for breakfast
cleaned and put on the table. In the afternoon, the kettle was
again filled by our little invisible friends and put to boil; and
while both were sitting in the room, the teapot was half filled
with boiling water and the tea made." We leave to the reader
to decide between the probabilities of the above statement com-
pared with the probabilities of Dr. Hodgson's theory of Mal-
Observation and Lapse of Memory — or, possibly, a delusion
bordering on the very verge of insanity.
Ella E. Gibson.
To the Editors :
Dear Sirs : — I have read with much interest articles in The
Open Court, from time to time, and though sometimes finding
occasion to differ from the conclusions reached, I have been glad
to note the general tone of fairness pervading the whole. Ac-
cordingly, as on page 594 of their present volume, your reference
to " A Clergyman in Jail in Boston," shows that the writer is not
in possession of the full facts on the subject, I wish you would
call the attention of your readers to one or two facts in regard
to the imprisonment of Mr. Davis.
The fact is that Mr. Davis, before attempting to preach, ap-
plied to the police commissioners and inquired " if policemen
would be instructed to break up or interfere with preaching ser-
vices conducted on the 'common' and other public grounds of
the city, provided such meetings did not obstruct public travel
or cause a breach of the peace." The commissioners replied "Oh
no, we should never do that," and Mr. Davis held his meetings.
THE OPEN COURT.
673
The ordinance under which he was arrested was one which had
fallen into disuse — like the law against smoking on Boston streets.
Its avowed purpose was to regulate preaching, but the present
committee on the common used it to prohibit all preaching — re-
fusing permits to many reputable citizens. Mr. Davis did not
proceed in a spirit of defiance, but believing that under the State
and National constitution he had a right to express himself upon
the " Common," desired to make a test case and obtain an author-
itative decision. Many good citizens — other than church mem-
bers— agree with him. The Supreme Court of Massachusetts has
decided in favor of the ordinance, but the Supreme Court of
Michigan in a similar case has decided against the constitution-
ality of the ordinance. It is a case for honest difference of opin-
ion, and we hope to have the matter carried up higher. In the
mean time it is only fair to ask that those who have only a
partial knowledge of the facts should suspend their judgment in
the matter. Our Boston city government has been wonderfully
vigorous in prosecuting the offences of the preachers, and shame-
fully derelict in prosecuting far more serious violations of law. Will
you not again call attention to this matter in The Open Court,
and a little more charitably ?
Sincerely yours in the search for truth,
H. B. Hastings,
13 George street, Chelsea, Mass.
145 Lilac St., Providence, R. I., Oct. 6, 1SS7.
To Editor of Open Court :
In your journal of August, 1SS7, I find an article from the
pen of Ella E. Gibson from which I copy the following: "This
commission, 'The Seybert, ' has so well done its work, even in its
preliminary report, that it would seem as if an unprejudiced per-
son need only to read this book to be convinced that all the so-
called spirit manifestations can be produced by individuals now-
living."
Again I quote from same article: " But I will not detain the
readers of Open Court with my remarks, but refer them to the
book itself, only promising that if they will read it carefully and
without prejudice, they will arrive at the conclusion that the
believers in spiritualism, who have been converted to its theories
by any of the so-called mediums exposed by this commission, will
feel that they have been most egregiously humbugged."
I, as one of the class of spiritualists included in the so-called
humbugged, shall esteem it a favor if you will give the following
facts a space in your journal :
In my early investigation of spiritualism, I with my wife
attended a spiritual seance in Birmingham, England, "seeking for
truth. " A young lady " a stranger " also an investigator,
remarked to my wife that she earnestly desired to know if
spiritualism was true. Nothing of importance occurred at our
first attendance ; two weeks later we again attended, and to our
surprise the young lady before named was placed amongst the
other mediums present. Shortly she arose, being in deep trance
and standing before me a few seconds without uttering a word —
then putting out her hand I took hold of it, and immediately the
control through her said : "Ben, my boy, do you recognize me?"
and puling me from my seat placed my right hand upon her left
arm, "the medium's," and said, "Ben, my boy, there is no broken
limbs in heaven; I have both arms there." The medium's arm was
icy cold ; I did not like the touch, and withdrew my hand, immedi-
ately. She again placed my hand upon the arm, which felt quite
warm, and natural as ever, then said, "by embracing this glorious
truth, my boy, you have given your Father much joy in his
heavenly home." Much more was said also.
My father had lost his left arm, but I did not know he
had broken it, which puzzled me; but relating the circumstance to
my oldest sister she told me that he fell and broke it. "This could
not be mind-reading" and I would ask, was that being egregiously
humbugged? "I think not."
About 20 years ago we had in our family a niece of my wife,
that was with us from five years old until she married. She
became a medium for physical manifestations, and at eleven
years of age, a table five feet by two and-a-half feet, with the tips
of her fingers upon it, would raise upon two legs and wriggling
until it reached the lounge would then rest its end on the lounge
and rear up against the wall of room. — She would also under con-
trol write long messages — talking to my wife at same time, and
would describe spirits present and give names correctly. — She
would read the characteristics of people correctly, even strangers
from letters placed to her forehead.
" At 1 1 years was she a humbug ?"
I am now living in the family of another niece. She has two
children mediums, a girl of nine years and boy of ten years; both
see spirits and describe them correctly. They also hear the spirits
talk, and tell me what they say at times — (are they also humbug-
ging me?) " Let Ella E. Gibson answer," and honestly and
thoroughly investigate before she attempts to pass judgment upon
a subject of which she is evidently totally ignorant. In 30 years
of experience in spiritualism I have received evidence enough of
its truth to fill a dozen of your journals.
Yours for truth,
Benj'n. Cross.
BOOK REVIEWS.
First Steps in Geometry. Easy Lessons in the Differ-
ential Calculus. By Richard A. Proctor. London:
Longmans, Green & Co. 1887.
The author of these two little books — the well-known astron-
omer and popular writer, Richard A. Proctor — has in these mathe-
matical text books again shown his ability of presenting difficult
subjects in a palatable and easily comprehended manner. We let
the author speak for himself, lie says in the preface to his First
Geometry:
"The object I have had in view in preparing this little work
has been to remove for young students in geometry the dif-
ficulties which I remember encountering when a beginner myself.
Teachers and books explained then, as now, how certain problems
are to be solved, but they did not show how the student was to
seek for solutions for himself. They strove to impart readiness
in following demonstrations rather than facility in obtaining
solutions. My method of showing here why such and such paths
should be tried, even though some may have to be given up, in
searching for the solution of problems, will, I believe, do more to
teach the voting student how to work out solutions for himself
than any number of solutions given him for reading."
Similarly he declares in his Easy Lessons in the Differential
Calculus: "I first took interest in algebra when I found that
problems in Single and Double Position could be solved much
more readily by algebra than by the rather absurd rules given for
such problems in books on arithmetic. In like manner, I could
find no interest in the Differential Calculus till, after wading
through two hundred pages of matter having no apparent use (and
for the most part really useless), I found the calculus available
for the ready solution of problems in Maxima and Minima. This
little work has been planned with direct reference to my own
experience at school and college. The usual method of teaching
the Differential and Integral Calculus seems to be almost as
absurd (quite as absurd it could scarcely be) as the plan by which
children, instead of being taught how to speak — whether their
own language or another — are made to learn by rote rules relating
to the philosophy of language such as not one grammarian in ten
thousand ever thinks about in after life."
674
THK OPEN COURT.
Poems. By David Ativood Wasson. Boston: Lee & Shepard, iSSS.
This handsome little volume is edited by Mrs. E. D. Cheney,
and contains three long poems with many short ones, among
which are twenty-seven sonnets. One of the finest of these last
is addressed to Charles Sumner, and begins thus:
"Thou and the stars, our summer still shine on!
No dark will dim, no spending waste, thy ray ;
And we as soon could doubt the milky way,
Whether enduring be its silver zone,
As question of Ihy truth."
In another fine passage, the poet tells those who love him best:
" But aught of inward faith must I forego,
Or miss one drop from Truth's baptismal hand,
Think poorer thoughts, pray cheaper prayers, and grow
Less worthy trust to meet your heart's demand?
Farewell! Your wish I for your sake deny;
Rebel to love in truth to love am I."
This heroic self-respect gives a peculiar charm to all Mr.
Wasson says about religion, for instance in these lines from the
opening poem "Orpheus":
" Vet wherefore cry
To Heaven? 'Tis the trick of craven souls
To vex the gods with importunity,
Entreating boons the base petitioner
But from himself should seek. The gods love them
That even against the gods, should there be need,
Dare stand erect and to themselves be just."
Such quotations say more for the author than any comment.
His many friends will be glad to find here printed for the first
time, "the poem which he hoped would express to others the
height and depth of his thought." It is published unfinished, as
he left it, and under the title, given by Mrs Cheney, but in his
own words, " The Babes of God." The creation of man is
represented as commencing with the birth in heaven of child-
like souls free from sin or error, and perfectly contented, until
they begin to feel the need of expansion into fuller and deeper life.
This new desire makes them ask their Father's leave to depart
out of celestial bliss and brightness, in search of trials, labor, and
pain; which they meet heaped up into a black cloud over their
path. Unfortunately, we have to leave them plunging bravelv
into the darkness. But other poems do full justice to the real
brightness of our earthly home, which nowhere appears sunnier
than in "AIT Well," which, as Mrs. Cheney justly says, "is a
classic, and stands unrivaled in American poetry for its exquisite
beaut\ , its far-reaching spiritual insight, its depth of faith, its joy
of hope."
It has also the great charm of being much more musical than
most ot its companions, which are on the whole rather too much
weighed down by gravity of theme and solemnity of tone to have
much chance of popularity. Thoughtful readers will find much
to value; though they may regret the preservation of some hasty-
utterances of indignation, like the sonnet "To Irish-born Amer-
icans." What is most to be regretted, however, is that Mr.
Wasson did not more frequently content himself with giving us
such beautiful pictures, and in such musical words, as these:
" And golden the buttercup blooms by the way
A song of the joyous ground;
While the melody rained from yonder spray
Is a blossom in fields of sound."
" Rills, in melody running
Silver the solar ray,
Age, its gray life sunning,
Purls of the balm\ day;
Youths, on the river rowing,
Path it with fading foam;
Maids on the tide are strowing
Leaves, that, adrift, become
Barques of the fine romances
Writ in their dreamful eyes,
Barques for their fairy fancies,
Freighted with sweet surmise."
F. M. H.
Poems and Translations. By Mary Morgan (Gowan Lea).
Montreal: J. Theo. Robinson, 18S7.
The authors of these poems which are now collected in a
handsome and elegantly bound volume, is well known to the
readers of The Open Court, who will remember having often
seen verses from her pen, full of thought and poetry, in its
columns. Her nom dc plume, Gowan, is Scotch, and means in
English, as she tells us in one ol her poems, a wild daisy, the
poet's flower. As a motto she selected a tew verses by the philoso-
pher Fichte:
" Das ewig Eine
Lebt mir im Leben, sieht in meinem Sehen.
Nichts ist denn Gott; und Gott ist nichts denn Leben, etc.
For those who are not familiar with her style, we select a few
poems which pleased us most.
To Nature.
Nature, I would be thy child,
Sit and worship at thy feet;
Read the truth upon thy face,
Wait upon thine accent sweet:
I would put my hand in thine,
Bow my head upon thy knee,
Live upon thy love alone,
Fearless, trusting all to thee.
Life's Purpose.
" Life's purpose is accomplished !" exclaimed one,
As with a sigh, that was not all of pain
Nor yet of pleasure all, he turned again,
Repeating, " what Iaimcd to do is done !"
Then came another voice : " Your course is run !
Tie longed-for goal no sooner we attain,
Then we descry that fairer heights remain,
And find at last our work is but begun.
"The call becomes, ' So much remains to do!'
Our feet have traveled but a little way;
And we have lagged perhaps, and blundered too,
And wish we could forget — thankful that day
Is still before us— that the flush of red
Is not the evening glow, but dawn instead."
From the translations we select a poem of F. Halm: " My
Heart, I Wish to ask Thee."
My heart, I wish to ask thee,
What then is love, O say?
" Two souls with one thought only,
Two hearts tuned to one lav! "
And say, whence comethlove then?
" We know not of the where! "
And say how goeth love then?
" What goes was never there!"
And tell me, what is pure love?
" For self it hath no will!"
And when is love the deepest?
"When it is calm and still ! "
And when is love the richest?
"That is it when it gives !"
And O, how talkest love, then?
" Itdost not talk— it lives!"
True happiness (if understood)
Consists alone in doing good.
— SOMERVILLE.
Ignorant of happiness, and blind to ruin,
Plow oft are our petitions our undoing.
No man is blest by accident or guess;
True wisdom is the price of happiness.
When the father is too fondly kind,
Such seed he sows, such harvest shall he find.
-Harte.
— Young.
-Dryden.
THE OPEN COURT.
675
THE LOST MANUSCRIPT.
BY GUSTAV FREYTAG.
CHAPTER II.
{Concluded).
She also partook of the aversion of her parents for
the neighboring family. Even as a little child she had
passed poutingly before the door of that house; never
had her foot crossed its threshold, and when good
Mrs. Hahn once asked her to shake hands, it was long
before she could make up her mind to take her hand
out of her apron pocket. Of the inhabitants of the
neighboring house the one most annoying to her was
young Fritz Hahn. She seldom associated with him,
but unfortunately she was always in some embarrass-
ment which enabled Fritz Hahn to act the part ot her
protector. Before she went to school, the eldest son of
Frau Knips, already quite a big fellow, who painted
fine pictures and birthday cards, and sold them to peo-
ple in the neighborhood, wished to compel her to give
the money she held in her hand for a devil's head which
he had painted, and which no one in the street would
have; he treated her so roughly and so ill, that contrary
to her wont, she became frightened and gave him her
groschens, and weeping, held the horrible picture in her
hand. Fritz Hahn happened to come that way, in-
quired what had taken place, and when she complained
to him of Knips' violent conduct, he grew so indignant
that she became frightened about him. He set upon the
lad, who was his school-fellow and in a class above
him, and began to thrash him on the spot, while the
younger Knips looked on laughing, with his hands in
his pocket. Fritz pushed the naughty boy against the
wall and compelled him to give up the money and take
back his devil. But this meeting did not help to make
her like Fritz any the better. She could not bear him,
because already as an undergraduate he wore spectacles,
and always looked so serious. And when she came
from school, and he went with his portfolio to the
lecture, she always endeavored to avoid him.
On another occasion they happened to meet. She
was among the first girls in the Institute ; the oldest
Knips was already magister, and the younger appren-
tice in her father's business, and Fritz Hahn had just
become a doctor. She had rowed herself between the
trees in the park till the boat struck a snag and her oar
fell into the water. As she was bending down to re-
cover it, she also lost her hat and parasol. Laura, in her
embarrassment, looked to the shore for help. Again it
so happened that Fritz Hahn was passing, lost in thought.
He heard the faint cry which had escaped her,
jumped into the muddy water, fished up the hat and
parasol, and drew the boat to the shore. Here he of-
fered Laura his hand and helped her on to dry ground.
Laura undoubtedly owed him thanks, and he had also
treated her with respect and called her Miss. But then
he looked very ridiculous, he bowed so awkardly, and
he stared ather sofixedly through his glasses. And when
she afterwards learned that he had caught a terrible
cold from his jump into the swamp, she became indig-
nant, both at herself and at him, because she had screamed
when there was no danger, and he had rushed to
her aid with such useless chivalry. She could have
helped herself, and now the Hahns would think she
owed them no end of thanks.
On this point she might have been at ease, for Fritz
had quietly changed his clothes and dried them in his
room.
But indeed it was quite natural that the two hostile
children should avoid each other, for Fritz was of quite
a different nature. He also was an only child, and had
been brought up tenderly by a kind-hearted father and
a too anxious mother. He was, from his earliest child-
hood, quiet and self-possessed, unassuming and studi-
ous. In his home he had created for himself a little
world of his own where he indulged in out-of-the-way
studies. Whilst around him was the merry hum of life,
he pored over Sanscrit characters, and investigated the
relations between the wild spirits that hovered over the
Teutoburger battle, and the gods of the Veda, who
floated over palm-woods and bamboos in the hot valley
of the Ganges. He also was the pride and joy of his
family; his mother never failed to bring him his cup of
coffee every morning; then she seated herself opposite
him with her bunch of keys, and looked silently at him
while he ate his breakfast, scolded him gently for
working so late into the previous night, and told him
that she could not sleep quietly till she heard him push
back his chair and place his boots before the door to be
cleaned. After breakfast, Fritz went to his father to bid
him good morning, and he knew that it gave his father
pleasure when he walked with him for a few minutes
in the garden, observing the growth of his favorite flowers,
and when, above all, he approved of his garden projects.
This was the onlv point on which Herr Hahn was
sometimes at variance with his son; and, as he could
not refute his son's arguments, nor restrain his own
strong aesthetic inclinations, he took steps which are
often resorted to by greater politicians — he secretly pre-
pared his projects, and surprised him with the execu-
tion of them.
Amidst this tranquil life, intercourse with the Profes-
sor was the greatest pleasure of the day to our young
scholar; it elevated him and made him happy. He
had, while yet a student, heard the first course of lect-
ures given by Felix Werner at the University. A
friendship had gradually arisen, such as is perhaps only
possible among highly cultivated, sound men of learn-
ing. Fritz became the devoted confidant of the inex-
haustible activity of his friend. Every investigation of
the Professor, with its results, was imparted to him,
676
THE OPEN COURT.
even to the most minute details, and the pleasure
of every new discovery was shared by the neighbors.
Thus the best portion of their life was passed together.
Fritz, indeed, as the younger, was more a receiver than
giver; but it was just this that made the relation so firm
and deep. This intercourse was not without occasional
differences, as is natural to scholars; for both were
hasty in judgment; both were very exacting in the re-
quirements which they made on themselves and others,
and both were easily excited. But such differences were
soon settled, and only served to increase the loving con-
sideration with which they treated each other.
Through this friendship the bitter relations between
the two houses were somewhat mitigated. Even Hen-
Hummel could not help showing some respect for the
Doctor, as his highly-honored tenant paid such striking
marks of distinction to the son of the enemy. For Herr
Ilummel's respect for his tenant was unbounded. He
heard that the Professor was quite celebrated in his
specialty, and he was inclined to value earthly fame
when, as in this case, there was profit in it. Besides, the
Professor was a most excellent tenant. He never
protested against any rule which Herr Hummel, as
chief magistrate of the house, prescribed. He had
once asked the advice of Herr Hummel concern-
ing the investment of some capital. He possessed
neither dog nor cat, gave no parties, and did not
sing with his window open, nor play bravura pieces
on the piano. But the main point was, that he showed
to Frau Hummel and Laura, whenever he met them, the
most chivalrous politeness, which well became the learned
gentleman. Frau Hummel was enchanted with her
tenant; and Hummel deemed it expedient not to men-
tion his intention of raising the rent to his family, be-
cause he foresaw a general remonstrance from the ladies.
Now the hobgoblin who ran to and fro between
both houses, throwing stones in the way, and making
sport of the men, had tried also to excite these two
noble souls against each other. But his attempt was a
miserable failure; these worthy men were not disposed
to dance to his discordant pipes.
Early the following morning, Gabriel took a letter
from his master to the Doctor. As he passed the hos-
tile threshold, Dorchen, the servant of the Hahn family,
hastily came toward him with a letter from her young
master to the Professor. The messengers exchanged
letters, and the two friends read them at the same
moment.
The Profess r wrote: —
" My dear friend — Do not be angry with me be-
cause f have again been vehement; the cause of it was
as absurd as possible. I must honestly tell you that what
put me out was your having so unconditionally refused
to edit with me a Latin author. For the possibility of
finding the lost manuscript, which we in our pleasant
dreams assumed for some minutes, was the more entic-
ing to me, because it opened a prospect of an employ-
ment in common to us both. And if I wish to draw
you within the narrow circle of my studies, you may
take for granted that it is not only from personal feel-
ing, but far more from the wish of my heart to avail
myself of your ability for the branch of learning" to
which I confine myself."
Fritz, on the other hand, wrote: —
" My very dear friend — I feel most painfully that
my irritability yesterday spoilt for us both a charming
evening. But do not think that I mean to dispute your
right to represent to me the prolixity and want of sys-
tem in my labors. It was just because what you said
touched a cord, the secret dissonance of which I have
myself sometimes felt, that I for a moment lost my
equanimity. You are certainly right in much that you
said, only I beg you to believe that my refusal to under-
take a great work in conjunction with you was neither
selfishness nor want of friendship. I am convinced that
I ought not to abandon the work I have undertaken,
even though too extensive for my powers; least of all
exchange it for a new circle of interests, in which my
deficient knowledge would be a burden to you."
After the reception of these letters both were some-
what more at ease. But certain expressions in them
made some further explanation necessary to both, so
they set to work and wrote again to each other, shortly
and pithily, as became thoughtful men. The Professor
answered: "I thank you from my heart, my dear
Fritz, for your letter; but I must repeat that you al-
ways estimate your own worth too low, and this is all
that I can reproach you with."
Fritz replied: " How deeply I do feel touched by
your friendship at this moment. This only will I say,
that among the many things I have to learn from you,
there is nothing I need more than your modesty; and
when you speak of your knowledge, so comprehensive
and fertile in results, as being limited, be not angry if I
strive after the same modesty with regard to my work."
After sending his letter, the Professor, still disqui-
eted, went to his lecture, and was conscious that his
mind wandered during his discourse. Fritz hastened
to the library, and diligently collected all the references
which he could find respecting the Castle of Bielstein.
At midday, on their return home, each of them read
the second letter of his friend; then the Professor fre-
quently looked at the clock, and when it struck three he
hastily put on his hat and went with great strides across
the street to the hostile house. As he laid hold of the
door-knob of the Doctor's room, he felt a counter press-
ure from within. Pushing the door open, he found
Fritz standing before him, also with his hat on, intend
ingto visit him. Without saying a word the two friends
embraced each other.
THE OPEN COURT.
677
" I bring you good tidings from the antiquary,"
began the Professor.
" And I of the old castle," exclaimed Fritz.
"Listen," said the Professor. "The antiquary
bought the monk's book of a retail dealer who travels
about the country collecting curiosities and old books.
The man was brought into my presence; he had himself
bought the little book in the town of Rossau, at an auc-
tion of the effects of a cloth-maker, together with an old
cupboard and some carved stools. It is at least possible
that the remarks in cipher at the end, which evade un-
practised eyes, may never, after the death of the
friar, have excited observation nor caused investigation.
Perhaps there ma)' still be preserved in some church
record at Rossau an account of the life and death of the
monk Tobias Bachhuber."
" Well, then," assented Fritz, much pleased, " a
community of his confession still exists. But Castle
Bielstein lies at the distance of half an hour from the
town of Rossau, on a woody height — see, here is the
map. It formerly belonged to a sovereign, but in the
last century it passed into private hands; the buildings,
however, remain. It is represented in this map as an
old castle, at present the residence of a yeoman. My
father also knows about the house; he has seen it from
the high road on his journeys, and describes it as a long
extent of building, with balconies and a high roof."
" The threads interweave themselves into a good
web," said the Professor, complacently.
" Stop a moment," cried the Doctor, eagerly. " The
traditions of this province have been collected by one of
our friends. The man is trustworthv. Let us see
whether he has recorded any reminiscences of the neigh-
borhood of Rossau." He hastily opened and looked
into a book, and then gazed speechless at his friend.
The Professor seized the volume and read this short
notice: " It is said that in the olden times the monks in
the neighborhood of Bielstein walled up a great treas-
ure in the castle."
Again did a vision of the old, mysterious manuscript
arise before the eyes of the friends so distinctly that it
might be seized..
" It is certainly not impossible that the manuscript
may yet lie concealed," remarked the Professor, at last,
with assumed composure. "Examples of similar dis-
coveries are not lacking. It is not long since that a
ceiling of a room in the old house of the proprietor of
my home was broken through; it was a double ceiling,
and the empty space contained a number of records and
papers concerning the rights of possession, and some old
jewels. The treasure had been concealed in the time of
the great war, and no one for a century had heeded the
lowly ceiling of the little room."
"Naturally," exclaimed Fritz, rubbing his hands,
" also within the facing of the old chimneys there are
sometimes empty spaces. A brother of my mother's
found, on rebuilding his house, in such a place a pot full
of coins." He drew out his purse. " Here is one of
them, a beautiful Swedish thaler; my uncle gave it to
me at the confirmation as a luck-penny, and I have car-
ried it in my purse every since. I have often struggled
against the temptation to give it away."
The Professor closely examined the head of Gusta-
vus Adolphus, as if he had been a neighbor of the con-
cealed Tacitus, and would convey information concern-
ing the lost book in its inscription. " It is true," he
said, reflectively, " if the house is on a height, even the
cellars may be dry."
" Undoubtedly," answered the Doctor. " Frequently
the thick walls were double, and the intervening space
was filled with rubbish. In such a case it would be
easy, through a small opening, to make a hollow space
in the inside of the wall."
" But now," began the Professor, rising, " the ques-
tion arises, what are we to do? For the knowledge of
such a thing, whether it be of great or little import-
ance, imposes upon the investigator the duty of doing
all that is possible to promote the discoverv. And this
dutv we must fulfill promptly and completely."
" If you impart this record to the public, you will
allow the prospect of discovering the manuscript to pass
out of your own hands."
" In this business, every personal consideration must
be dismissed," said the Professor, decisivelv.
" And if you now make known the cloister record
you have found," continued the Doctor, " who can
answer for it, that the nimble activity of some antiquary,
or some foreigner, may not prevent all further investi-
gations? In such a case the treasuie, even if found,
would be lost, not only to you, but also to our country
and to science."
"That, at least, must not be," cried the Professor.
" And besides, even if you apply to the government of
the province, it is very doubtful whether they will render
you any assistance," replied the Doctor, triumphantly.
" I do not think of committing the matter to strang-
ers and officials," answered the Professor. " We have
some one in the neighborhood whose good fortune and
acuteness in tracing out rarities is wonderful. I have a
mind to tell Magister Knips of the manuscript; he may
lay aside his proof sheets for some days, travel for us to
Rossau, and there examine the ground."
The Doctor jumped up. " That shall never happen.
Knips is not the man to trust with such a secret."
" I have always found him trustworthy," replied the
Professor. " He is wonderfully skillful and well-
informed."
" To me it would appear a desecration of this fine
discovery, to employ such a man," answered Fritz, "and
I would never consent to it."
678
THE OPEN COURT.
" In that case," cried the Professor, "I have made
up my mind. The vacation is at hand; I will go my-
self to the old house. And as you, my friend, wish to
travel for some days, you must accompany me; we will
travel together. Here is my hand on it."
" With all my heart," cried the Doctor, clasping his
friend's hand. " We will penetrate into the castle, and
summon the spirits which hover over the treasure."
" We will first come to an understanding with the
owner of the house. We shall then see what is to be
done. Meanwhile let us keep the affair secret."
" That is right," assented Flitz; and the friends de-
scended, well satisfied, into the garden of Herr Hahn,
and, reposing beneath the white muse, they consulted
on the opening of the campaign.
The imagination of the learned man was fast pent
up by his methodical train of thought; but in the depths
of his soul there was a rich and abundant stream from
the secret source of all beauty and energy. Now a hole
had been torn in the dam, and the flood poured itself
joyfully over the seed. Ever did the wish for the mys-
terious manuscript return to him. He saw before him
the opening in the wall, and the first glimmer of light
falling on the grey books in the hollow; he saw the
treasure in his hands as he drew it out, and would not
part with it till he had deciphered the illegible pages.
Blessed spirit of Brother Tobias Bachhuber! if thou
shouldst spend any of thy holiday-time in heaven in
coming back to our poor earth, and if then at night thou
glidest through the rooms of the old castle, guarding thy
treasure and scaring inquisitive meddlers, oh! nod kindly
to the man who now approaches to bear thy secret to
the light of day, for truly he seeks not honor nor gain
for himself, but he conjures you, in the name of all that
is good, to assist an honest man.
CHAPTER ///.
a pool's errand.
Whoever on a certain sunny harvest morning in
August had looked down from a height in the direction
of Rossau, would have observed something moving
along the road between the meadows which extended
to the gates of the city. On closer observation the
travelers might be perceived, one taller than the other,
both wearing light summer dresses, the freshness of
which had been sullied by the stormy rain of the last
few days. They had both leather traveling pouches,
which hung by straps from their shoulders; the taller
one wore a broad-brimmed felt hat, the shorter one a
straw hat.
The travelers were evidently strangers, for they
stopped sometimes to observe and enjoy the view of the
valley and hills, which is seldom the case with those
born in the country. The district had not yet been
discovered by pleasure-seekers; there were no smooth
paths in thr woods for the thin boots of the citizens;
even the carriage-road was not a work of art, the water
lay in the tracks made by the wheels; the sheep-bells
and the ax of the wood-cutter only were heard by the
dwellers of the neighborhood, who were working in the
fields or passing on their way to business. And yet
the country was not without charm ; the outlines of the
woody hills waved in bold lines, a stone quarry might be
seen between the fields in the plain, or the head of a
rock jutted out from amongst the trees. From the hills
in the horizon a small brook wound its course to the
distant river, bordered by strips of meadows, behind
which the arable land ran up to the woody heights.
The lovely landscape looked bright in the morning
sunshine.
In the low country in front of the travelers rose to
view, surrounded by hills, the place called Rossau, a
little country town with two massive church towers and
dark-tiled roofs which projected above the walls of the
town like the backs of a herd of cattle which had
crowded together for protection against a flock of
wolves.
The strangers looked from the height with warm
interest on the chimneys and towers behind the old dis-
colored and patched walls which lay before them. In
that place had once been preserved a treasure, which, if
found again, would interest the whole civilized world
and excite hundreds to intellectual labor. The land-
scape looked exactly like other German landscapes, and
the town was exactly like other little German towns;
and yet there was an attraction in the place which
inspired a joyful hope in the travelers. Was it the bulb-
like ornament that crowned the stout old tower? or was
it the arch of the gate which just veiled from the trav-
elers in alluring darkness the entrance to the town? or
the stillness of the empty valley, in which the place lay
without suburbs and outhouses, as the towns are por-
trayed on old maps? or the herds of cattle which went
out of the gate into the open space, and bounded mer-
rily on the pasture ground ? or was it perhaps the keen
morning air which blew over the temples of the wan-
derers? Both felt that something remarkable and prom-
ising hovered over the valley in which, as searchers of
the past, they were entering.
The travelers passed by the pasture ground; the
herdsmen looked with indifference at the strangers; but
the cows placed themselves by the edge of the ditch and
stared, while the young ones of the herd bellowed at
them inquiringly. They went through the dark arch
of the gate and looked curiously along the streets. It
was a poor little town, the main street alone was paved,
and that badly. Not far from the gate the sloping beam
of a well projected high in the air, and from it hung a
long pole with a pitcher. Few people were to be seen,
those who were not working in the houses were occu-
THE OPEN COURT.
679
pied in the field; for the straws which stuck in the
stone crevices of the arch of the gate showed that har-
vest wagons were carrying the fruits of the fields to the
farm-yards of the citizens. Near many of the houses
there were open wooden doors, through which one
could look into the yard and barns, and over the dung
heap on which small fowls were pecking. The last
century had altered the place as little as possible, and
the low houses still stood with their gables to the street;
instead of the coat of arms, there projected into the
street the sign of the artizan, carved in tin or wood, and
painted — such as a large wooden boot; a griffin, which
held enormous shears in its hand; or a rampant lion,
that offered a bretzel ; or, as the most beautiful master-
piece of all, a regular hexagon of colored glass panes.
" Much has been retained here," said the Professor.
The friends came to the market-place, an irregular
space, the little houses of which were adorned with bright
paint. There on an insignificant building prominently
stood a red dragon with a curled tail, carved out of a
board, and supported in the air on an iron pole. Upon
it was painted, in ill-formed letters, " The Dragon Inn."
" See," said Fritz, pointing to the dragon, " the fancy
of the artist has carved him with a pike's head and thick
teeth. The dragon is the oldest treasure preserver of
our legends. It is remarkable how firmly the recollec-
tion of this legendary animal everywhere clings to the
people. Probably this sign-board originates from some
tradition of the place."
They ascended the white stone steps into the house,
utterly unconscious that they had long been watched by
sharp eyes. A citizen, who was taking his morning
draught, exclaimed to the stout host, " Who can these be?
They do not look like commercial travelers; perhaps
one of them is the new pastor from Kirchdorfe."
" No pastor looks like that," said the inn-keeper,
decidedly, who knew men better; "they are strangers
on foot, no carriage and no luggage."
The strangers entered, placed themselves at a red
painted table, and ordered breakfast. " A beautiful
country, mine host," began the Professor; " fine trees
in the wood."
" Trees enough," answered the host.
" The neighborhood appears wealthy," continued
the Professor.
" People complain that thev do not earn enough,"
replied the other.
" How many clergy have you in the place?"
" Two," said the host, more politely. " But the old
pastor is dead; meanwhile, there is a candidate here."
" Is the other pastor at home?"
" I do not know," said the landlord.
" Have you a court of justice here?"
" A magistrate of the place; he is now at the office
— court is in session to-day."
" Was there not in former times a monastery in the
city? " said the Doctor, taking up the examination.
The citizen and the landlord looked at each other.
" That is long since," replied the master of the inn.
" Does not the Castle of Bielstein lie in the neighbor-
hood here?" inquired Fritz.
Again the citizen and the landlord looked signifi-
cantly at each other.
" It lies somewhere here in the neighborhood,"
answered the landlord, with reserve.
" How long does it take to go to the castle?" asked
the Professor, irritated by the short answers of the man.
"Do you wish to go there?" inquired the landlord.
" Do you know the owner?"
" No," answered the Professor.
" Have you any business with him ?"
" That is our affair," answered the Professor, shortly.
" The road goes through the wood, and takes half
an hour — you cannot miss it;" and the landlord abruptly
closed the conversation and left the room. The citizen
followed him.
" We have not learnt much," said the Doctor, laugh-
ing. " I hope the pastor and magistrate will be more
communicative."
" We will go direct to the place," said the Professor,
with decision.
Meanwhile the landlord and the citizen consulted
together. " Whatever the strangers may be," repeated
the citizen, " they are not ecclesiastics, and they did not
seem to care for the magistrate. Did you remark how
they inquired about the monastery and the castle?"
The landlord nodded. " I will tell you my suspicion,"
continued the citizen, eagerly; "they have not come here
for nothing; they seek something."
" What can they be looking for?" asked the land-
lord, pondering.
"They are disguised Jesuits; that's what they look
like to me."
" Now, if they wish to engage in a quarrel with the
people on the manor, they are strong enough to hold
their own."
" I have to see the Inspector on business; I will give
him a hint."
" Do not meddle with what does not concern you,"
said the landlord, warningly. But the citizen only held
the boots he carried under his arm tighter, and drove
round the corner.
Our two friends left, disgusted with the lack of
courtesy they encountered at the Dragon. They in-
quired the way to the castle of an old woman at the
opposite gate of the city. Behind the town the path
rose from the gravel bed of the brook to the woody
height. They entered a clearing of underbrush, from
which, here and there, rose up high oaks. The rain of
the last evening still hung in drops on the leaves — the
68o
THE OREN COURT.
deep green of summer glistened in the sun's rays — the
song of birds and the tapping of the woodpecker above
broke the stillness.
," This puts one in another frame of mind," ex-
claimed the Doctor, cheerfully.
" It requires very little to call forth new melodies in
a well-strung heart, if fate has not played on it with too
rough a hand. The bark of a few trees covered with
hoary moss, a handful of blossoms on the turf, and a
few notes from the throats of birds, are sufficient," re-
plied the philosophic Professor. "Hark! that is no
greeting of nature to the wanderer," added he, listening
attentively, as the sound of distant voices chanting a
choral fell softly on his ear. The sound appeared to
come from above the trees.
" Let us go higher up," exclaimed the Doctor, " to
the mysterious place where old church-hymns murmur
through the oaks."
They ascended the hill some hundred steps, and
found themselves on an open terrace, one side of which
was surrounded by trees. In the clearing stood a small
wooden church with a churchyard behind it; on a mossy
block of rock rose a long old building, the roof of
which was broken by many pointed gables.
" That is in good keeping," exclaimed the Professor,
looking curiously over the little church up to the castle.
A funeral chant was heard more clearly from the
church. " Let us go in," said the Doctor, pointing to
the open door.
" To my mind it is more seemly to remain without,"
answered the Professor; " it goes against me to intrude
either on the pleasures or sorrows of strangers. The
hymn is finished; now comes the pastor's little dis-
course."
Fritz meanwhile had climbed the low stone wall and
was examining the church. " Look at the massive
buttresses. It is the remains of an old building; they
have repaired it with pine wood; the tower and roof
are black with age; it would be worth our while to see
the inside."
The Professor held in his hand the long shoot of a
bramble bush which hung over the wall, looking with
admiration at its white blossoms, and at the green and
brown berries which grew in thick clusters. The sound
of a man's voice fell indistinctly on his ear, and he bent
his head involuntarily to catch the words.
" Let us hear," he said at last, and entered the
churchyard with his friend. They took off their hats
and quietly opened the church door. It was a very
small hall; the bricks of the old choir had been white-
washed; the chancel, a gallery, and a few benches were
of brown firwood. Before the altar lay open a child's
coffin, the form within was covered with flowers, beside
it stood some country people in simple attire; on the
steps of the altar was an aged clergyman with white
hair and a kind face; and at the head of the coffin the
wife of a laborer, mother of the little one, sobbing.
Near her stood a fine female figure in burgher's dress;
she had taken off her hat, held her hands folded, and
looked down on the child lying among the flowers.
Thus she stood, motionless; the sun fell obliquely on
the waving hair and regular features of the young face.
But more captivating than the tall figure and beautiful
head was the expression of deep devotion which per-
vaded her whole countenance. The Professor involun-
tarily seized hold of his friend's arm to detain him. The
clergyman made his concluding prayer; the stately
maiden inclined her head lower, then bent down once
more to the little one, and wound her arm round the
mother, who leant weeping on her comforter. Thus she
stood, speaking gently to the mother, while tears rolled
down from her eyes. How spirit-like sounded the mur-
murs of that rich voice in the ear of her friend. Then
the men lifted the coffin from the ground and followed
the clergyman, who led the way to the churchyard.
Behind the coffin went the mother, her head still on the
shoulder of "her supporter. The maiden passed by the
strangers, gazing before her with an inspired look,
whispering in her companion's ear words from the
Bible : " The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken
away. Let little children come unto me." Her gentle
accents were heard even by the friends. The mother
hung broken-hearted on the arm of the stranger, and as
if borne along by the gentle tones, tottered to the
grave. Reverently did the friends follow the procession.
The coffin was lowered into the grave, the clergyman
pronounced the blessing, and each one present threw
three handfuls of earth on the departed one. Then the
country people separated, leaving a free passage for the
mother and her companion. The latter gave her hand
to the clergyman, and then conducted the mother
slowly across the churchyard to the road which led to
the castle.
The friends followed at some distance, without look-
ing at each other. The Professor passed his hand over
his eyes. " These things are always very touching,"
he said, sorrowfully.
" As she stood at the altar," exclaimed the Doctor,
" she seemed like a prophetess of the olden time, with an
oaken crown on her head. She drew the poor woman on
by her gentle accents. Certainly the words were from
our noble Bible; but now I understand the significant
meaning in ancient times of the word whisper, to which
a magic power was ascribed. She took possession of
the mourner body and soul, and her voice sank deep
into my heart also. What was she, maiden or wife?"
"She is a maiden," answered the Professor, im-
pressively. " .She dwells in the castle, and we shall
meet her there. Let her go on, and we will wait at the
foot of the rock."
THE OPEN COURT
68 1
They sat some time on a projecting stone. The
Professor never seemed weary of contemplating a tuft
of moss; he brushed it with his hand, laying it now on
one side, now on the other. At last he arose quickly.
" Whatever may come of it, let us go on."
They ascended the hill some hundred steps. The
landscape before them suddenly changed. On one side
lay the castle with a walled gateway and a courtyard, in
which stood large farm buildings; before them, a wide
plain of arable land sloped down from the height into a
rich valley. The lonely woodland landscape had dis-
appeared ; around the wanderers was the active stir of
daily life; the wind waved through the sea of corn,
harvest wagons were passing up the roads through the
fields, the whip cracked and the sheaves were swung by
strong arms over the rails of the wagons.
"Hello! what are you looking for here?" asked a
deep bass voice behind the strangers, in a commanding
tone. The friends turned quickly. Before the farm-
yard gate stood a powerful, broad-shouldered man,
with closely-cut hair, and a very energetic expression in
his sunburnt face; behind him stood farming officials
and laborers, stretching their heads out with curiosity
through the gate, and a large dog ran barking toward
the strangers. " Back, Nero," called the proprietor,
and whistled to the dog, at the same time looking with
a cold, searching look at the strangers.
"Have I the honor of addressing the proprietor of
the place?" inquired the Professor.
" I am that person, and who are you?" asked the
proprietor in return.
The Professor gave their names, and that of the
place from which thev came. The host approached and
examined them both from head to foot.
"No Jesuits dwell there," he said; "but if you come
here to find some hidden treasure, your journey is use-
less; you will find nothing."
The friends looked at each other ; they were near
the house but far from the goal.
" You make us feel," answered the Professor, " that
we have approached your dwelling without an intro-
duction. Although you have already made a guess as to
the object of our journey, yet I beg of you to permit us
to make an explanation before fewer witnesses."
The dignified demeanor of the Professor did not
fail to have an effect. " If you really have business
with me, it would be better certainly to settle it in the
house. Follow me, gentlemen." He lifted his cap a
little, pointed with his hand to the gate, and went ahead.
" Nero, you brute, can't you be quiet?"
The Professor and the Doctor followed, and the farm
officials and laborers and the growling dog closed in be-
hind. Thus the strangers were conducted in a not very
cordial manner to the house. In spite of their un-
pleasant position, they looked with curiosity at the great
farmyard, the work going on in the barns, and a flock of
large geese which, disturbed by the party, waddled
cackling across the road. Then their eyes fell upon the
dwelling itself, the broad stone steps with benches on
both sides, the vaulted door, and the moulded escutcheon
on the keystone. They entered a roomy hall, the pro-
prietor hung up his cap, laid hold with strong hand of
the latch of the sitting-room door, and again made a
movement of the hand, which was intended to be polite
and to invite the strangers to enter. " Now that we are
alone," he began, "how can I serve you? You have
already been announced to me as two treasure-seekers.
If you are that, I must plainly begin by telling you that
I will not encourage such follies. Otherwise, I am glad
to see you."
"But we are not treasure -seekers," rejoined the Pro-
fessor; " and as we have kept the object of our journey
a secret everywhere, we do not understand how you
could hear so erroneous a report concerning the occasion
of our coming."
" The shoemaker of my steward brought him the
intelligence together with a pair of mended hoots; he
saw you at the tavern in the town, and grew suspicious
because of your questions."
" He has exercised more ingenuity than was called
for by our harmless questions," answered the Professor.
" And yet he was not altogether wrong."
" Then there is something in it," interrupted the
proprietor, gloomily; "in that case I must beg you,
gentlemen, not to trouble yourselves or me further. I
have no time for such nonsense."
" First of all, have the goodness to hear us before so
curtly withdrawing your hospitality," replied the Pro-
fessor, calmly. " We have come with no other aim
than to impart to you something concerning the im-
portance of which you may yourself decide. And not
only we, but others, might reproach you if you refused
our request without taking it into consideration. The
matter concerns you more than us."
" Of course," said the host, "we are acquainted with
this style of speech."
" Not quite," continued the Professor; "there is a
difference according to who uses it, and to what
purpose."
" Well, then, in the devil's name, speak, but be
clear," exclaimed the proprietor, impatiently.
" Not till you have shown yourself ready," contin-
ued the Professor, "to pay the attention the importance
of the subject deserves. A short explanation will be
necessary, and you have not even invited us to sit
down."
" Be seated," replied the proprietor, and offered
chairs.
The Professor began: "A short time ago, among
other written records of the monks of Rossau, I acci-
682
THE OPEN COURT.
dentally found some observations in a manuscript which
may be of the greatest importance to the branch of
learning to which I devote myself."
"And what is your branch of learning?" inter-
rupted the host, unmoved.
" I am a philologist."
" That means one who studies ancient languages?"
asked the proprietor.
" It is so," continued the Professor. " It is stated by
a monk, in the volume I have mentioned, that about the
year 1500 there existed in the monastery a valuable
manuscript, containing a history by the Roman, Tac-
itus. The work of the renowned historian is only very
imperfectly preserved to us in some other well-known
manuscripts.
A second notice from the same book, in April, 1637,
mentions that at that time the last monk of the monas-
tery, in the troublous war time, had concealed from the
Swedes the church treasures and manuscripts in a hollow,
dry place extant in the monastery, contained his complete
works in the house of Bielstein. These are the words I
have found ; I have nothing further to impart to you. We
have no doubt of the genuineness of both notices. I
have brought with me an abstract of the pas; ages con-
cerning it, and I am ready to submit the original to
your inspection, or that of any competent judge whom
you may choose. I will only add now that both T and
my friend know well how unsatisfactory is the commu-
nication we make to you, and how uncertain is the pros-
pect that after two centuries any of the buried posses-
sions of the monastery should be forthcoming. And yet
we have made use of a vacation to impart to you this
discovery, even at the probable risk of a fruitless search.
But we felt ourselves bound in duty to make this
journey, not especially on your account — although this
manuscript, if found, would be of great value to you —
but principally in the interest of science, for in that point
of view such a discovery would be invaluable."
The proprietor had listened attentively, but he left
untouched the paper which the Professor had laid on
the table before him. Now he began: " I see that you
do not mean to deceive me, and that you tell me the whole
truth with the best intentions. I understand your
explanation. Your Latin I cannot read; but that is not
necessary, for, concerning this matter, I believe you.
But," he continued, laughing, "there is one thing which
the learned gentlemen living so far away do not know,
and that is, that this house has the misfortune to be con-
sidered throughout the whole country as a place in
which the old monks have concealed treasures."
" That was not, of course, unknown to us," rejoined
the Doctor, "and it would not diminish the significance
of these written records."
"Then you were greatly in error. It is surely clear
that such a report, which has been believed in a country
through many generations, has meanwhile stirred up
persons who are superstitious and greedy of gain, to
discover these supposed treasures. How can you imag-
ine that you are the first to conceive the thought of
making a search? This is an old, strong-built house,
but it would be stronger still if it did not show traces
from cellar to roof that in former times holes have been
made and the damage left unrepaired. Only a few
years ago I had, at much cost and trouble, to place new
beams into the roof, because roof and ceiling were sink-
ing, and it appeared, on examination, that unscrupulous
men had sawed off a piece of the rafter, in order to
grope into a corner of the roof. And I tell you frankly,
that if I have met with anything disagreeable from the
old house, in which for twenty years I have experienced
happiness and misfortune, it has been from this trouble-
some report. Even now an investigation is being carried
on in the town respecting a treasure-seeker, who has
deceived credulous people in giving out that he could
conjure up treasures from this hill. His accomplices are
still being tracked. You may ascribe it to your ques-
tions in the town, that the people there, who are much
excited because of the deception, have taken you to be
assistants of the impostor. My rough greeting was also
owing to this. I must make my excuses to you for it."
"Then you will not agree," asked the Professor,
dissatisfied, " to make use of our communication for
further researches? "
"No," replied the proprietor, " I will not make such
a fool of myself . If your book mentions nothing more
than what you have told me, this account is of little use.
If the monks have concealed anything here, it is a
hundred to one that they have taken it away again in
quieter times. And even if, contrary to all probability,
the concealed objects should remain in their place — as
since then some hundred years have passed — other hun-
gry people would long ago have disinterred them.
These are, forgive me, nursery stories, only fit for spin-
ning rooms. I have a great aversion to all these notions
that necessitate pulling down the walls. The husband-
man should dig in his fields and not in his house; his
treasures lie under God's sun."
{To be continued.}
If we see right we see our woes,
Then what avails it to have eyes?
From ignorance our comfort flows.
The only wretched are the wise. — Prior.
The sweetest bird builds near the ground;
The loveliest flower springs low;
And we must stoop for happiness,
If we its worth would know. — Swain.
How sad a sight is human happiness
To those whose thoughts can pierce beyond an hour,
— Young. Night Thoughts.
The Open Court
A Fortnightly journal,
Devoted to the Work of Conciliating Religion with Science.
Vol. I. No. 24.
CHICAGO, JANUARY 19, 188S.
I Three Dollars per Year.
I Single Copies, 15 cts.
THE PROCESS OF PROGRESS
UY RUDOLF WEVLER.
" Let not your heart be troubled;
Neither be ye afraid." — Jesus.
" There is no death. What seems so is transition."
— Longfellow.
" 'Tis better to have loved and lost,
Than never to have loved at all." — Tennyson.
" Loving friend be wise, and dry straightway every weeping
eye." — Ed-win Arnold.
When Christ was about to die, when he was led to the cross,
" there followed him a great company of people and of women,
which bewailed and bemoaned him. But Jesus said: Daughters
of Jerusalem ! -.reef not for me (who am going to die) but weep for
yourselves and for your children" (who are going to live). — Luke
xxiii. 27, 28.
Who comes there? Who walks there slowly, so
slowly; bleak, black, dreadful; white, pale, dark? —
he approaches from afar. * * * Is it he, whom man
with awe looks upon; whom we all dread, shrink
from; is it he? Is it Death? coming nearer, ever
nearer us. Where does he come from? Comes he
from the skies, from heaven? Or has he, as we are
told, his abode in hell? Is it Satan's messenger, as
told in Holy Writ — or is it a relief sent to us from
God? Is death a punish incut lor uncommitted, inher-
ited sin; or is it a redeemer from this life's toils, woes,
strifes and troubles? Is it a ship sent by a heavenly
King to carry us across that shoreless ocean, which
no living being (save three?) yet crossed alive; or is
it an opium-vessel, bringing us eternal sleep, eternal
rest, eternal peace? Is it the passage from the ma-
terial to the spiritual, or is it only a changing of ma-
terials, or rather, the same material, only assuming
another form ? Briefly, — are we going to live after 7ce
are dead, or shall we then cease to live, forever?
O, this great mystery ! this insolvable problem,
this impenetrable darkness. Who will lift the thick
veil, and permit us a glimpse, one passing glimpse,
into those mysterious realms ! Who will drop one
sparkle of light into that eternal darkness, to favor
us with one glance into it ! Who can tell or explain
any of those questions to the entire satisfaction of all
mankind, regardless of beliefs, creeds, superstitions
or religions ! Who will, who can do it? Nobody!
—no one can boast of any knowledge respecting this
matter.
But, this being at least my opinion, then, what
more proper than that I should stop right here and
beware of any speculations or assertions on my part.
If I nevertheless go on to state my private views on
the subject, I do it only by way of confessing my
creed, for the special benefit of, may be, nobody, or
perchance, a great many, who by reading my confes-
sion may be awakened from their lethargy, throw
off all shackles of superstition, all fright for a " future
judgment," for hell, Satan, devil or Beelzebub. — And
with no fear in their hearts, no tear in their eyes, but
also without any false hopes, without any delusions of
paradise, of " golden cities," of " happy hunting
grounds" or any other myths, they will expect that
great change, called death, or, as I styled it at the
head of this article,
THE PROCESS OF PROGRESS.
Now in the last lines my confession is made, ex-
plicitly, unequivocally. We do by no means at that
moment when people say we are dead and dig a
grave to put our remains in, die then for the first time
in our life. * * * Neither do we then die for the
last time. With our birth our death begins also. When
we say, we had lived a day, we might as well say, we
had died that day, not merely indirectly, because we
have come one day nearer death, but also directly.
We can never live that day again, never! A change
took place in our nature, in our form, though it be a
very subtle change, unperceivable to our coarse, un-
skilled eye; and that change made the "I" of yes-
terday entirely disappear, and now I am not the I
of yesterday any more, and never will be that again.
I am changed now. This mystery people call growth.
I call it — the process of progress.
I said we do not perceive the growing of a per-
son every day; yet we do notice it always at longer
intervals, when the person becomes so entirely
changed, that we cannot help noticing it. We notice
it when the babe becomes a little boy or girl; when
the child is transformed into a youth, the boy into a
young man, the girl into a young woman; then again,
when these all at once, as it were, before our eyes,
are metamorphosed into man and woman (see I. Cor.
xiii. 11); and finally, when the man becomes an old
man, and the woman becomes an old woman, we no-
tice it again. The full grown man often bears less
6S+
THE OPEN COURT.
resemblance to himself as a child than he does to
his parents or even more distant relatives. And so
we die every day, every hour, every moment. And,
like the chameleon, we change our appearances, our
external form every day ( not to mention the far
deeper changes of the inner man, in belief, in thought
and in his views of life). But nevertheless we still
exist. So also when that greatest change of all comes
upon us, when the entire dissolution of the atoms of
which we are composed takes place, we change our
form in a more radical way than ever before ( see
I. Cor. xv. 57) to progress into new life, into new
existence. But not, as the orthodox dogmatist tells
us, into the bosom of the " Land of God," nor as the
Spiritualist would make us believe, to roam about
restlessly in infinite realms, realms unknown to any-
body. Neither of these, I think, approaches the
truth. No, I feel more comfort in thinking that there
is peace in store for me as an individuality when I
shall lose all identity, and "rest, sweet rest," will finally
be my portion, after all the toil and turmoil and pain
and struggle in this life. It is a comfortable, and,
methinks, also very reasonable belief, this of mine,
at the same time knowing very well that my atoms
will again and again assume all kinds of forms, until
some day they might again, in nature's skillful labora-
tory, evolve into and resume the form of a man like
me, perhaps, but it will not be /.
After these considerations, how baseless, if not
ridiculous, does it appear to see people bemoan their
dead on the one hand and rejoice, on the other, when
their babe becomes a boy and this — a man and so on!
If there be any reason to deplore the changes to
which we are subject, then we must reasonably be
crying all our lifetime, lamenting ourselves as well
as our families and surroundings. But as a matter
of fact, there is no reason whatever to regret either
of the changes, whether the small unapparent or the
greatest of all. For is it not exactly the same in all
nature? Do we not seethe same process of progress
going on in all the departments of the universe? Do
we not daily see the ebb and flow on the sea-coast,
—and yet we know quite well that the self-same drops
or waves do never reach the coast twice? Is it not
this process that we call sunrise and sunset? Are
not the four different seasons or periods of the year
indicating just the same process of progress? The
year 1887 is not by any means the year 1886; the lat-
ter will never return again into existence. But it was
the cause, the origin, it gave birth to the year 1887.
Without the year 1886 having existed ami ex-
pired there could be no room for the year 1887.
Therefore there should be no crying at either of
these changes, not only because it is of no avail to
ail)- one, but also because it is very unreasonable.
For death is not a loss, it is not a punishment, it is
not a disadvantage, not a bereavement: it is, on the
contrary, the process of progress. Wherefore I can
more sincerely, more reasonably, more consistently
than many of his disciples and followers, exclaim
with Paul:
" O death! where is thy sting;
O grave! where is thy victor}'!" — /. Cor. xv.JJ.
LANGUAGE.
BY E. P. POWELL.
Part I.
I. ORIGIN OF LANGUAGE.
It is impossible to comprehend language from
.my other standpoint than evolution. It is an incom-
prehensible mystery, incapable of self-origination,
and equally impossible as an imposed supernatural
gift, but as a development of primal sentience, it is
not only comprehensible, but necessary. It is agreed
by all biological science that primal sensation mani-
fests itself at its first appearance as hunger. Hunger
is capable of immediate differentiation into like and
dislike; satisfaction and non-satisfaction — the posi-
tive and negative of sentience. You can reduce
sentience to no lower terms than where you find it
expressing the desire to eat and grow. Now, if you
will trace life through its manifold and almost infi-
nite variations up to man, it has everywhere this com-
mon basis of sentience expressing itself as hunger;
and hunger is either satisfied or not satisfied. In
higher life physical hunger becomes psychical hun-
ger. The moner hungers for protoplasm; man hun-
gers, or may hunger for rightness. This satisfaction
and non-satisfaction has its expression in sensation.
It is not impossible for us to know by the motion of
the rhizopod whether it is satisfied or not. It makes
its feelings known. Whether another rhizopod com-
prehends this expression of feeling" or not is not so
apparent. But in the arthropods and much lower
down it is certain that there is a power of mutual
apprehending. This makes it probable that no life-
form exists without giving and receiving sympathy.
All creatures apparently, and most creatures cer-
tainly, communicate.
This condition of sentience, and mutual relation-
ship of apprehension, must affect and control largely
the method of evolution. Organic evolution invari-
ably obeys purposive evolution. The purpose here
is to satisfy hunger; and to express the purpose,
either as a desire or as a gratification. Evolution,
taking up this aim or purpose, must ultimate in a
growing power of life-creatures to express desire
satisfied, or desire not satisfied — like and dislike —
approval and disapproval. In other words, organic
development is necessitated in the direction of
organic power to express ■- to speak.
THE OPEN COURT.
6S5
II. ORGANS OF LANGUAGE.
The protoplasmic cell is not a sphere but an ovoid,
with two distinctive poles — and is already an indi-
vidual. Its food is taken at one pole; the chemical
disintegration goes on in a cycle; the waste is ex-
creted at the other pole. A spherical cell would fail
to express life. Equally exposed to chemical attack
from environments it could form no cyclic flow, and
is destroyed. The ovoid, however, represents at one
pole the summit of dynamical action, and there you
have the germ of the future head ( see Montgomery ).
Nature does not construct a head at a late date in
evolution; but the dynamic action that impinges on
the most exposed pole is already constructing a
head in the moner. The ovoid moner is already in
every sense an individual. It not only eats and
digests, that is, has a chemical decomposition antag-
onized and counterbalanced by a vital reconstructive
process, but it has a dominant point that controls its
functional activity.
The dominant point involves its chemical and
vital opposite. The two poles are the important
points of the life cycle. The domination carries
naturally to the one the accretions of vital power.
The differentiations that constitute the future head
are differences of domination. The spinal processes
are rather an extension downward of domination.
The tail of the bird and of animals divides the func-
tion of language with the head. The reproductive
function naturally is not differenced to an}- specific
locality, but is on the lip of a spider and elsewhere
on other creatures, but as a rule tends to association
with the excreting organs. The creatures that do
not learn to vocalize with the tongue do so with the
tail. The language of the tail is as complete in the
dog or bird as the language of the tongue. The tail
is aborted only in the highest forms of life when its
possible functions have been drafted off to the hand
and the tongue. Watch the tail of the feline tribe in
its power to tell joy, peace, anger, apprehension,
pleasure. My horse has learned to respond to a tap
of the whip with a responsive stroke of her tail
instead of quickening her pace. A cow must
express herself either with the tail or the hoof; that
is, if she is not somewhat inclined to an occasional
stroke of her tail, she is sure to be a kicker. The
robin's chirp and tail go together. As a mere brush
for flies the cow's tail is a great failure. If you will
watch a horse you will see that she lashes her tail at
a* fly quite out of reach, and a cow's tail is aimed
without the least consideration of the location of the
fly. Plainly, the chief function of the tail is not a
whip, but to express irritation or pleasure. The
emotion of animals grieves and lashes fury, or
gently tells joy with the tail. It is above all an
instrument of language. Following the suggestion
of Montgomery we find the functioning that is finally
so overwhelmingly gathered and concentered in the
oral extremity, is largely aboral until we reach man.
Language in the ophidian is in its rattles, located in
the aboral end. This is evidently its method of
warning its foes. It is the language of the serpent.
The emotional life of man, if too intense at the
cerebral point, is sure to react to the sexual passion.
Dr. Brinton, in his remarkable book on The Re-
ligions Sentiment says: "The intimate and strange
relation between sensuality and religion so often
commented upon, is a consequence of physiological
connections." " The patient who is melancholy from
disorders of the generative organs, is forsaken of
God in his own judgment. His afflictions have a
religious color." "Stimulate the religious sentiment
and you arouse the passion of love." Religious
phrensy, as well as religious spite, has been owing to
this close association of the moral cerebral and the
sexual aboral. We never quite are able to dissociate
the uplook from the downlook -especially in the
language of emotional life.
In fine, we find the oral and aboral ends of the
cell functionally extending to the complex forms of
higher life. Language is not differentiated to our
end of the organic creature until man is reached;
and in man our emotions express themselves still
aborally. Language begins at the outset of living
creatures. As the organism becomes complex, and
the nervous system drafts off and directs life-energy,
language is functional at each end of the creature.
The poles of the cell become the head and the tail,
the prime function of both being language. Desire
or hunger multiplies its methods of expression —
satisfaction does the same. The whole body, like
the whole cell, expresses pleasure or disappoint-
ment; but mainly language is at the extremities.
The dog's tail is as articulate as his tongue, and the
two ends twist together in his joy. When the head
finally dominates wholly, the tail is aborted; the
head concentering in itself all language. That is, the
tail and head are prolongations of the poles of the
cell, and have a common function in unequal degrees.
To what then arc we driven but this, that language
is a natural endowment of life, and as such it must
be in some way the endowment of all forms of life.
Life is emotional, and as such expresses and com-
municates its feelings. And this was so before there
were specific organs of speech developed. ( )rgan-
ism has ever been an after-thought — function has
ever preceded form. We do not sec because we
have eyes, but we have eyes because sight was
involved in general sentience. So men do not talk
because they have organs of speech, but because
686
THE OPEN COURT.
they had the endowment of communicativeness,
which, moving ever in the direction of or-
ganic expression, developed speech organs. All
nature strives and longs to express itself. There is
always a tendency to better methods of speech; this
tendency leads always to better organs of speech.
The dog, when wild, has no bark, but a savage cry;
when domesticated, a new range of relations rouses
in him new emotions and develops new powers. The
poor fellow at times becomes almost articulate in joys
and love, and more so in his griefs.
III. ARTICULATE SPEECH.
It seems pretty surely demonstrable that the
earlier races of human beings could not have had
articulate speech beyond cries, ejaculations and
musical intonations. History, as a record, does not
run back of 8,000 or 10,000 years. I mean that we
cannot, apart from geology and paleontology, reach
any more remote knowledge of man and his doings.
The known linguistic stocks we cannot carry back
nearly as far; but somewhere five or six thousand
years ago they are lost in an abyss. All that we can
be assured of is that the language power of animals
was an instinct of primitive man. He used animal
language instinctively; but an instinct in forming
always establishes a tendency. The tendency was to
increase methods of communication. The effort to
communicate must have slowly but surely modified
the organs of speech. For proof of this potency in
all evolution I refer you to Prof. Cope's Origin of
the Fittest, Part III. This modification of organic
structure certainly eventuated in a peculiar tubercle;
and in an enlarged brain, correlative thereto. M.
Mortillet says that the evidence is complete that the
man of the River Drift Era did not possess organic
power to articulate; and it is clearly evident also
that the man of the New Stone Era did become pos-
sessed of such power. The jawbone of the older
race was hollow at a certain point as in monkeys.
The jawbone of later races, and of man at the pres-
ent day, possesses in place of that hollow an excres-
cence called the genial tubercle. Dr. Brown adds
that the lower frontal or third convolution of the
brain is the seat of the language directive and con-
ceptive faculty. This convolution in the earlier
races was undeveloped. The Cave Man who fol-
lowed the River Drift Man possessed both the
frontal convolution and the genial tubercle. It is
not at all certain when the Cave Man began his
career, but the language power could have had but
slow development for many thousands of years. If
we allow his origin to have been fifteen or twenty
thousand years ago, or even longer, we shall yet
reach the Iberian race of eight or ten thousand years
ago with a very meager vocabulary. But the tend-
ency is thus established to talk, — to form language.
It is clear that no power in man's possession com-
pares with this. Language is, as a brain tool, more
important than the bronze and iron tools for his
hands. Whatever great devlopment anywhere takes
place must be in conjunction with growth of lan-
guage. The people of any section that possess a
genius for language-making, rush necessarily out on
the line of a dialect which, in those days, would orig-
inate an entirely new language. Nowadays a dia-
lect is so charged with the mother tongue that it can
never be more than a dialect; but at that period in
language-making it is conceivable that a specially
forceful movement would establish the dialect as a
new language. So we can conceive the Aryan, the
Semitic and the Turanian languages to have moved
out diversely at a very early period of language-mak-
ing, having so little of the common that that little
became in time almost indistinguishable; but it is
that insignificant germ that to-day is distinguishable
by philologists. Precisely, as out of the anthropoid
man came off diverse races of men, so out of the
anthropoidal language moved diverging and ever-
enriching languages. No divergence could take
place to-day without carrying with it a vast treasure
from its original source and home. It is clear that
such would not then have been the case. The pro-
pulsion that gave them at last the power to be men
and begin the wonderful career of reasoners, laying
up in language and by means of language all their
mental and moral accumulations, and so assuring
a future by securing a past, — this language propulsion
at the same moment divided them into distinct races
destined to travel diverse lines of historic evolution.
What conclusion then do we necessarily reach?
P^vidently this, that the animal instinct to communi-
cate by sign and sound was inherited by primitive
man, and with it a propensity to increased invention.
This, in time, modified structure, so that articulation
became possible. By infinitely minute increase of
use and consequent organic change, articulation
became the one power that lifted man above the
brute. To-day language-making is an instinct of all
civilized races. Our English language is rich almost
to the extent of 100,000 words; and is rapidly grow-
ing— each word a power in evolution. The alphabet
is the child of thousands of years of effort at sys-
tematized language. It is not more than four or five
thousand years since speech thus crystalized. Print-
ing is not yet half a thousand years old. We can
scarcely conceive the slowness of language-making
before these inventions.
The language-making instinct has now over-
grown the mere instinct to communicate which was
inherited from animals. Children not seldom create
THE OPEN COURT.
685
a new language. I have known one such case where
a brother and sister, twins, I believe, for many years
communicated volubly in words wholly of their own
invention. It was a spontaneity, and it was with
great difficulty that they were compelled to use our
English words.
THE HAND AND THE BRAIX.
In making man nature had three structural
changes to accomplish. 1. To free the fore limbs
and make of them pliable tool-makers. 2. To cre-
ate a frontal and directive rational brain. 3. To
create the genial tubercle adapting the throat to
articulation. These changes were accomplished;
but being done they involved far more than direct
results. The hand and the brain are curiously allied,
and complementary education is just awakening to
the fact that an educated brain is not an educated
man. The hand also must be taught skill. The fate
of brain and hand must be identical. The hand
became free at about the same time as the
brain became frontal and supreme. Sharing other
endowments with the brain, the hand also shows
language. It talks. Language in man is oral, man-
ual and artificial. This association of the front
limbs with the frontal brain is what might be
expected. The hands and brain have remarkably
kept pace. The monkey's skill with his paws is
about on a par with his brain power. So it came
about in the progress of events that language divided
itself between gesture and vocalization — motion and
sound. We inherit both considerably developed by
the animal world. Gestures naturally passed into
signs or formal methods of conveying thought by
the hands; vocalization passed into picture language
and alphabetic language. All growth in language
has been an increase of the power to use artifice.
Gesture-language is at its best in savage life; vocali-
zation has no line of development. All progress
has been, and must be, in artificial communication.
THE FOOL IN THE DRAMA.
BY FRANZ HELBIG.
Part HI. — Conclusion.
The conceit bred by social rank has furnished the
stage with a large number of characters. They are
the innumerable titled snobs, male and female, in
whose estimation any one without a title is a " no-
body." They are as narrow as they are conceited.
At the present day the title must share its honors
with the moneyed aristocracy. Of the latter type,
Benedix gives us an excellent example in his Zart-
liche Verwandte
Anatol Schumrich has the good fortune to be the
son of the richest man in town. This fact, in reliev-
ing him of all anxiety and necessity for thought and
action, insures his follv. He makes no effort what-
soever, but trusts entirely to the power and charm of
his wealth. He has a distaste for study and knows
only one thing; that, being so rich, he need not know
anything. When his father sends him abroad to be
educated he learns just enough to make a fool of
himself, when he returns. He sees it, too, but that
does not trouble him. Then his father sends him
away to find a wife- In spite of his money, he gets
nothing but mittens, but he _'oes not mind, for he is
still the son of the richest people in town; this
is, after all, the principal thing and the young ladies
are very foolish not to consider it.
.Another class of fools now claims our attention:
those who would be and would appear more than
the>- are; who continually strive to get beyond their
sphere. In this category we may place the would-
be politician in the coined)' by the Danish poet, Hol-
berg. He neglects his lucrative business of pewterer,
for politics, leads political clubs and flatters himself
that he is destined one day to become a great poli-
tician. When he is made to believe that he has been
elected mayor, he discovers his utter inability to
cope with the duties of his office and is finally very
glad to return to his business.
Among fools of this kind we must also include
the driver Subowsky, in Doctor Klaus, who im-
agines he has learnt the art of medicine from his
master; furthermore, all the emancipated women that
abound in the comedies of from 1840-50, Moliere's
blue-stockings and their sisters in Benedix' comedies.
The kind of fools we now come to are the most
pitiable of all. The others unconsciously wear the
cap and bells, but these are fully aware of their con-
dition, but cannot help themselves. They are the
fools in spite of themselves. Foremost among them we
notice a youth, pale, dream}-, melancholy. It is
Hamlet, who assumes madness to aid him in solving
the problem of his life. In his wake follow all those
who are compelled to act a part which was merely
affected or assumed in jest; as, for instance, the poor
cobler in the Venuunclienen Prinzen, or the theatre-
director Ouabbe in Schweitzer's Countess Helen,
who finds himself compelled to act the role of count,
which he had assumed in jest. This peculiar phase
of folly may reach such proportions that the victim
becomes uncertain of his identity and actually be-
lieves himself to be some one else; as in the case of
the unfortunate Meister Andrea in Emanuel Geibel's
corned}-. His friends try to convince him that he is
not the carpenter Andrea, but the orchestra-leader
Mattheo; and he finally believes it himself and tries
to appear and act like Mattheo.
Related to the last-named class are the hypo-
chondriacs, so well pictured by Moliere, and also by
Moser in his excellent farce A Sick Family.
688
THE OPEN COURT.
We nowjcome upon a regular quartette of loll)-;
the despondent mien and heavy, dull, far-away ex-
pression give a certain similarity of character to the
four. They are the victims of what the Germans call
" Weltschmerz," a species of mental disease very prev-
alent in Europe between 1840 and 1850. The quar-
tette is interesting enough to warrant individual in-
spection. The first is of distinguished aristocratic
appearance; his hair, grown somewhat thin, is care-
fully arranged; his dress is fashionable, but not
dudish; his white, taper fingers are adorned with
diamonds; in his hand is a whip; — it is Count Walde-
mar in Gustav Freytag's play.
The second, in the uniform of a French general,
is of equally striking presence. In his right hand he
carries a book; the left rests on his richly gilded
dress-sword — it is the royal lieutenant, Count Thorane.
The third is Lord Rochester in The Orphan of
Lowood a tall, somewhat bent figure, with a pale,
thin face and a high, white forehead. He wears a red
fez and a beautifully wrought India dressing-gown.
He limps painfully; the expression in his eyes speaks
of deep melancholy and yet of dauntless energy.
The fourth, with unkempt hair, slouching gait and
neglected garments, presents a marked contrast to
the others. A sarcastic smile plays about his lips
and his expression is one of mockery and cynicism.
This is Narciss, the hero of Brachvogel's play of the
same name.
Their folly is all of a similar character. Count
Waldemar is thoroughly blase, and this fact originates
a melancholy discontent, which vents itself in acts of
whimsical folly, until he is finally restored by the
influence of a good common-sense woman.
Count Thorane, too, is a victim of despondency
and melancholy, caused by a woman, who has be-
trayed his noble heart. He grows nervous and ex-
citable. The most trifling things, such as the blue
color of a painted sky, or an innocent little poem
like Goethe's " Kleine Blumen, kleine Blatter" move
him to tears; yet he is a soldier, undaunted in the
midst of battle. This incongruity destroys the equi-
poise of his nature.
The case of Narciss is a similar one. The base
deceit of a woman robs him of his peace of mind and
of his normal power of thought and action. In him,
too, the miseries of life have engendered incongrui-
ties, that result in irrationality and folly. On the one
hand he is a cynic, who despises the whole world, has
no faith in man and deems a good digestion the only
true happiness in life; on the other hand he is a sensi-
tive, enthusiastic lover, who longs for his lost, faith-
less wife, and has but the one wish, to behold her,
his lost Eden, again. The incongruous combination
of cynicism and dreamy enthusiasm, of idealism and
materialism, of earth and heaven in his soul, as it
were, render him a helpless, unstable creature, a very
fool. His philosophical effusions are but the result
of his despairing moods, and generally contain a sug-
gestion of irony — for, at bottom he does not mean
what he says. His simulated hilarity is in reality
full of spleen and bitterness. Could he but find his
beloved wife, all these hallucinations of his brain
would vanish. He does finally see her, but as the
mistress of the king; before making this discovery
he is himself again for the moment, — the normal
man, — but now his reason entirely deserts him, wild
ungoverned thoughts obtain dominion, and he ex-
pires in a fit of insanity.
The last of the quartette, Lord Rochester, pos-
sesses a kind and gentle disposition, which impels
him to acts of the noblest humanity, such as the care
of an unworthy woman, who deeply wronged him
and his brother, and that of her illegitimate child.
This circumstance renders him cynical, hard and
contemptuous of the world, particularly of woman.
He, too, belongs to the melancholy class, and the
conflict between his real and his assumed nature pro-
duces mental disease — a species of folly.
These four characters were probably the products
of the spirit of the age, and it may be said that every
epoch has its peculiar fool. The fool of the present
day is the parvenu, to be seen on the stage in every
phase. Observe him, as represented in Pohl's farce
Honest Work, the well-known Schultze of the aris-
tocracy; of large proportions, well-fed; a double
chin with a red silk scarf beneath it; a light felt hat
on his head, and a heavy watch-chain well in view.
Through his grocery and the tenfold increase in
value of his property, he has rapidly become wealthy.
He now strives to imitate the higher and cultured
classes, without considering that to do this success-
fully requires education and refinement, which all
his money cannot secure him. His hitherto natural
manners give place to affectation. He has brilliant
receptions, at which the conversation is generally
limited to the weather; he gives grand dinners, at
which his guests are well fed; he has musical even-
ings, without knowing anything of music; he tries to
imitate the speech of the educated, and talks non-
sense. The elements at variance in his nature render
him a fool.
The counselor in Lindau's Mary and Magdalen
is a parvenu of more refined description, who, despite
his high position, cannot hide his folly.
Moliere already introduced this species in his
character Jourdain, who, having been titled when
well on in life, engages dancing masters, fencing
masters and composers in order to acquire their
arts.
THE OPEN COURT.
689
The fools of the stage are still in existence, albeit
the original " Hanswurst" is dead; and they are in
place there, for folly is needed to preserve sense and
wisdom. Folly paves the way for wisdom. The
object of the stage should be to present a mirror of
life, gazing into which man may see himself and be
warned against his passions and his follies. There-
fore the stage will ever continue to be enriched by
suggestions from life, for folly will never cease.
THE ETHICS OF ECONOMICS.
BY GEO. M. GOULD.
Part I.
[Extracts from an essay read before the Society for Ethical Culture, ot
Philadelphia, February 6, 1S87.]
A cool student and one deeply learned in the
history of the precious metals states it as a fact that
every dollar of gold drawn from the earth has cost
two. From this statement we see that the cost of a
thing is something different from the nature of gold
itself. M. Del Mar apparently estimates the value
of gold in other than terms of gold. It seems like
a reductio ad absurdum to say that every dollar has
cost two dollars. It is, of course, evident that he
means to estimate the value of gold in terms of
labor and suffering. And viewed in this light it is
probably too low an estimate. If the same lives and
labor had been spent in raising wheat that have
been wrecked in gold mining the value of the result
would certainly be worth many times that of the
world's gold, which is calculated to be about thirty-
five hundred million of dollars, and which would not
fill a room one-half the size of this one. We find in
medicine that therapeutic agents have what is called
their essential principles, that is, a few grains of
vital and peculiar essence are scattered through
pounds or masses of a neutral and disused menstruum,
and on these subtle molecules depends all the
efficacy of the drug. Now, when we come to
analyze gold psychologically and extract from it its
essential principle, we shall find in the chemistry of
life's fearful crucible that its spirit is nothing else
than the Spirit of Man himself.
We, who are not misers, know that a dollar per se
has no significance; it is only as representative that
it gains meaning and power. When we go into
market to buy something with it, if we examine our-
selves carefully we shall find, so far as we the own-
ers are concerned, that we have obtained it in one
of three ways: we have either had it presented to
us by some one else, father, husband or friend; or
we have stolen it, cheated some one else out of it;
or we have earned it. Doubtless the money most of
us have now in bank or in pocket is the child by a
combination in varying proportions of all three
parentages. Few of our dollars could show their
family-tree with perfect pride. The bar-sinister is
usually not far back. If, now, our money has been
given to us or we have otherwise gotten it without
earning it, it follows by strict necessity that some
one else has earned it. If in its last analysis money
is but the representative of value, some one must
create the value in order to become the owner of its
title deeds. What it is to create the value, we learn
when we go to work to earn the money with which
we would go to market. To earn it, I say, not get
it; for, in the complexity and injustice of our semi-
civilization, earning and getting possession of it are
two very different matters. If you earn it you have
rendered for it a service that was worth a dollar to
some one else. In rendering this service you have
given either your labor, your ingenuity or your
thought, your suffering, love or learning — in a word,
your life! And this is the final analysis of all money
and all values rateable in money. Every dollar is
but the concrete representation of human effort and
thought, and everything called wealth is the product
of the work, the heart-throbs and mental powers of
human beings. Money, in its last analysis, is the
tally stick of muscle contractions, of heart beats, of
lives worn out. Sometime ago it was the fashion of
certain dainty dames to go to the slaughter-houses
and drink the blood gushing hot from the freshlv
cut arteries of dying cattle. Blood not only sym-
bolizes, but is the life, and so in eating the flesh or
solid blood, or in drinking the liquid blood, we de-
vour the life of the animal. In exactly the same
sense when we use for our own need or gratification
the valuables wrought by others, we are taking
from them (justifiably or not, matters not here)
their very life. Their life was more or less consumed
in producing them and the things — bread, houses,
railroads — have value only as these men have put
their life into them, thereby making them wealth or
valuables. The creation of our financial and in-
dustrial system has served to impersonalize the ser-
vice, to generalize the life, and we think only of
the thing we are buying and forget the history of
the thing; we think of the concrete object and not
of the invisible essence, human life, which alone
made the thing real and of interest. From every-
thing purchasable with money the dead eyes of the
human souls who fashioned it look out with signifi-
cant demand. With every board or brick that
shelters us, with every woven thread that covers us,
with every morsel of food we eat or pleasure we en-
joy, the shadow)- ghost of humanity calls out to us,
"Take, eat; this is my bod)'. Drink ye all of this
my blood which is shed for the many."
The great danger we run in regard to this con-
ception of the matter is that habit shall harden us into
690
THE OPEN COURT
an indifference and merely external assent to it, or
that we shall look upon it only as a metaphor or illus-
trative example, whilst all the time it is the most
real and absolutely exact statement of the fact.
Vicarious suffering and vicarious death are old theo-
logical doctrines, and have been sniffed at by the
young colts of a shallow-pated atheism, but every
act of social life and existence is shot through and
through, and again through with it. Our life is but
the surface embroidery worked upon the strong
warp and woof of other men's services, and dead
men's deeds. We have taken of the life of every
brave soldier of history who fought for the right and
liberty we enjoy; we have taken of the life of every
student and investigator who wore out life and mind
for us; of every legislator and judge who by his own
self-renunciation kept pure for us the ideas and
practice of justice. In the smallest details of life
the law is also absolute; the coal we warm ourselves
with is ours because men parted with some of their
life — perhaps their whole life — to dig it for us; a
spiritual eye can see the bones of smothered and
buried miners glowing deep among the burning coals
of our hearth-fires.
We all know how the most trivial article we use
is serviceable to us only by and because of the death
of the plant or animal whence we derived it; ever}'
element of the food we eat, except perhaps salt and
water, is a wrench and robber)- of the same from
what may be called nature's intention. Grain and
plant, fruit and animal, must die to give us our life.
It is precisely as true that every purchasable thing,
from a cracker to a railroad, bears to us a value ex-
actly proportional to the human life spent in its pro-
duction and which alone gives it its value and
expense. In the cumulation of this service it is
easily seen men's lives are wholly spent and incor-
porated just as absolutely as if the heart's blood had
been drunk at a slaughter-pen. How many are the
lives of his fellow-men eaten and wasted by a spend-
thrift and gluttonous debauchee! Therefore, the pur-
chased thing we use or waste is really a palimpsest;
we think it a book, a railroad ride, clothes or a house:
these, however, are but the crude pictures of a
coarse and late handwriting. Beneath them, and all
through them, a discerning eye catches the gleam of
a subtle and half-hidden chirography, the pale letters
of long dead authors who perished in writing these
and such as these.
It is not hard for an imaginative and sympathetic
mind to see in this way how true it is that all our
purchased enjoyments and benefits are rooted in the
rich soil fertilized by the services of the dead whose
lives have been thus given, willingly or unwillingly,
to create the rich compost whence grows the full-
blossoming plant of modern civilization, — that plant
of basil which proverbially flourishes best on dead-
men's brains.
What is the net result of most lives? A carpen-
ter has built a hundred houses for others to live in;
a laborer has shoveled a few million shovelfuls of
earth for others to ride over in parlor cars that
thousands of men have constructed; an author has
written a book or two for others to read; an inven-
tor's brain is worn out devising an ingenious machine
for others to use when he is dead; a clerk has meas-
ured cloth for years for others to wear, — and so on
through the list. Catharine of Russia once made a
journey through her land to see with her own eyes
the glory of her government and the blessings
to the people of her reign. The people were as
racked with want and woe as Russian serfs alone can
be, but on every hand, skillfully prepared by her
ministers in advance were the signs of plenty and
prosperity. The slaves were driven to the roadside
in gala-dress; improvised houses of pasteboard were
erected; mills with bags of sand in front of their
doors, arose as the triumphal procession passed,
flinsrinsr silver coins at random among the mob. The
next day tinsel, and sham, and delusion had disap-
peared like a theatrical show or a fanciful dream.
To one calmly viewing the mutations of human
affairs this might seem an apt example of what
happens with the products of humanity's laborious
exertions: that they flash into light before the eyes
of the queenly Present to vanish as suddenly in
destruction and forgetfulness, whilst the monotonous
groan of the laborer goes on forever. But it is not
wholly so. Whether the toilers of the da)' that is
past have done their work well or ill, their lives have
passed from them, and, stroke by stroke, day by
day, heart-throb by heart-throb, thought by thought
have passed into the thing they have done. These
men are entombed in their handiwork, as, in the
mediaeval story the skillful mechanic was maliciously
crushed by the torture engine and buried in the in-
fernal dungeon he had himself constructed for his
tyrant-master.
If we now fully and vividly realize that every
dollar and dollar's worth of valuable things is ser-
viceable and good because the life of man is mater-
ialized in them, because man's life has been withdrawn
from him and deposited in the things he has created,
we may turn to consider a moment the uses and
abuses made of these products.
When we do so we are met by the cynic, and the
voice of the stung conscience sneering at us that
suffering and unjust usage of men's lives has always
been, and will always be; that Malthus found out
what sort of a Providence rules the destinies of men
THE OPEN COURT.
691
and that the mass of men must in the nature of
things toil for the idle few. There is a vital dis-
tinction to be noted here, and Lammenais expressed
it when he wrote that " though labor and suffering
are everywhere, some labors are sterile whilst some
are fecund ; some sufferings infamous, some glorious."
No wise mind looking out over the wastes of human
history and into the construction of the physical
universe hopes to extinguish the manifold evils and
imperfections of our planetary life. All that can
reasonably be hoped for is that justice should rule
our ways and days, that unnecessary misery shall not
be poured on men, that we shall all be sharers of one
another's burdens, and that greed and wrong shall
not lay its woeful burdens on innocent shoulders.
These are simply the plainest demands of justice,
and we who pretend to be students and lovers of
ethics, must work to bring these ethical ideas be-
fore men's minds and plant them in our social life.
But we cannot move a step in this work without
stumbling upon the great economical wrong which
blackens all history and befouls every modern
social fact, the wrong that is old as humanity and
wide as the world; the wrong that religion has arisen
to overcome, that law and civil polity seek in vain
to grasp and subdue, the wrong that seems to be the
soul of our souls that tricks our better nature and
almost makes us hate ourselves that we cannot avoid
its subtle tyrrany — the wrong of slavery. We are
natural slaveholders; we would get another's bread
without giving him equal service, we wish another's
life without giving our own. All govenment and all
social life prior to the breaking up of the Roman
Empire was founded upon slavery. A man could buy
conquered soldiers by the hundreds or thousands on
a Roman battle-field for the price of a dog, and the
uses made of them are known by every one who has
glanced through the execrable records of Roman
history. Mediaeval feudalism was a change of name
without much change in nature. Everywhere we
find the essence of the relation held firm; every-
where power held over men's bodies and minds for
selfish uses. None but the interested, those willfully
deceiving or willfully self-deceived can pretend that
modern industrialism or commercialism is much else
than another disguise. The old Proteus has slipped
the leashes of our crude nomenclature but under a
new name he holds the knout of his sovereignty
over men's backs with as firm a fist as ever. The
aged Villeroi held the child Louis XV. before the
crowded masses below the palace window and said to
him, " Behold, Sire, all this folk belongs to you."
When a dying man hands his children 1 50 millions of
dollars does he not even more absolutely than any
dying king hand them the labor, the bodies, the
minds, the lives of many thousands of people? If it
were not so the millions of dollars would be of no
more value than so many sea-shore pebbles. The
market value of 1,300,000 slaves held to-day in
Brazil is estimated at S436 per head. At this rate,
you see, our richest capitalist could have gone to
Brazil and bought outright some 300,000 people.
Suppose he had done so, you perceive at once that
to preserve his property he would have to feed,
clothe and care for it whether he could keep it at
work or not, whether he could sell the products of
its labor at a profit or not. Modern industrialism
has found a far better method of slave-owning than
this: it borrows the public slaves whenever it can
make money out of them and the day it finds the
loan unprofitable it discharges them and sends them
back to the public (which means to nobody or to the
devil, as you will ) with the kindly remark, " The
Public be damned!" — and the public obeys to the
letter. Malthus and natural selection and Provi-
dence and the public are trusted to supply " hands"
again whenever desired.
One is reminded of the cunning Sphex, the wasp-
like creature that gathers worms and creeping things
about the clay cells of its larvae, all stung so accu-
rately that they are preserved in life, but otherwise
powerless to move, till fresh meat is wanted for the
grub's dinner. Malthus & Company never fail to
supply the market-basket of our human Sphexes,
and you see the financial wisdom of having all the
advantages of slave-holding without the disadvan-
tage of responsibility for the slave's welfare. The
capitalist's exegesis of Malthus is quite as accurate
as that of any professor of political economy.
There is no need of going to Brazil; the Brazilian
were wiser to come here where the average wages of
an American freeman reaches the enormous figure
of S365 a year — one dollar (and many dolors) a day,
as if planned by Malthus' partner to save fractions.
If this amount seem rather high a move might be
made to England where S300 would be all required;
or to Ireland where Si 25 would suffice to buy a man
for a year, or even to India where $5 or Sio is all
that is asked.
According to the tables of the life-assurance
statisticians, a healthy young man of twenty will, on
the average, live about forty years. His average
wage is, as we have seen, S365 a year; this last sum
therefore multiplied by forty gives the market price
of a man's life. This is Si 4,600. Now, this is no
allegory or play of fancy, but the baldest and bitter-
est reality of every-day life. For less than Si 5,000
one may have the products of a life of labor for one's
use or wasting, — one may go into the market at any
time and buy any number of such lives. In Mexico
692
THE OPEN COURT.
there is a species of ants that sets apart some of its
individuals to serve as store-houses of honey for the
rest of the community. Their abdomens become so
enormously distended that they must to their
humorous and hungry fellows become a butt of
ridicule as well as one of honey. In the human
ant-hill, the opulent idler who, as that noble philoso-
pher Hans Breitmann says, "only lifes to joy him-
self," seems another such a honey barrel who has
craw led into a corner behind a breastworks of cus-
tom and law and when his neighbors who have con-
tributed all his honey come asking a share, he snaps
his fingers at them and asks what they are go-
ing to do about it. I read in the newspapers of a
rich heir spending half a million dollars for a
pleasure boat. A schoolboy example in division
shows that to build this toy for a summer's picnic
cost the life-long labor of thirty-five men for forty
years, — that is, the lives, actually and literally, of
these men. Where is the equivalence of service
rendered in return? An ignorant jockey rides a
horse exceptionally well and Christian nobles and
peers give him a million or two dollars for doing it,
whilst at the same time, as we shall see, they give
two girls, for making match-boxes a choice between
starvation or disgrace. Have such things no ethical
significance? Likewise, when an idle spendthrift or
fashionable woman wastefully spends $15,000 the
life of a man is just as really sacrificed as if this
civilized cannibal had been an African one. Society
invests several thousand in producing an able-bodied
individual of twenty. Malthus & Company at
once set him at work at a forty years' job, fashioning
objects desired by the whim of his master or mistress.
The woman trigs herself out with jewels, menage,
dress and aestheticism, the man with race-horse,
club and cantatrice. I contend that the ethical sig-
nificance of the lives of the two cannibals, the phys-
ical African and the Nineteenth Century roue, is the
same. The product of the laborer's life is as wan-
tonly wasted in the one case as the other. Ethically
considered, you might just as well kill and eat a'
man as to squander the products of his life's labors
in a night's finery and debauch. When, by the ex-
quisite iniquity of your protective tariff, one man
makes $30,000 every week, he thereby calls on soci-
ety for the lives of two men. If this person should
burn up $30,000 worth of his houses each week the
annihilation would be apparent. If he hire hun-
dreds to wait upon him and feed his idle fancies
he is still a cannibal. If he put the money away
in a bank for his children, is he aught else than a
human Sphex, storing food for his larvae to fatten
upon or squander, if, as is probable, they turn out
squanderers.
The disturbing circumstance about slavery is the
fact that there is such a thing as love of justice in
the hearts of many people and that these demand a
day of reckoning; and that day of reckoning is gen-
erally expensive. Such an expense came to France
in 1793, such another came to us about twenty years
ago. It cost the Northern people one-sixth of a
life, and $700 a head to free 4,000,000 slaves; this
leaves out the interest and the incalculable ex-
pense. Is it exaggeration to estimate the cost of
each slave freed at that time as at least several thou-
sands of dollars? Would it not have been cheaper
to have begun with ethics instead of ending with it?
But if you ask this question of the absentee Irish
landlord or of the typical millionaire of any country,
he would be quite as impervious to the reasoning as
his Southern brother ia i860. The answer to that
imperviousness is the hoarse, sullen roar, the mis-
taken energy, the portentous gathering of forces
which can leave only ruin and disaster in their path.
( To be continued.)
The more one judges the less one loves. — Balzac.
I can promise to be sincere, but I cannot promise to
be impartial. — Goethe.
'Tis with our judgments as our watches — none go
just alike, yet each believes his own. — Pope.
How little do they see what is, who frame their
hasty judgment upon that which seems! — Southey.
Wise sayings often fall on barren ground; but a
kind word is never thrown away. — Arthur Helps.
The discovery of what is true and the practice of
that which is good are the two most important objects
of philosophy. — Voltaire.
Mystery is the antagonist of truth. It is a fog ot
human invention, that obscures truth, and represents it
in distortion. — Thomas Paine.
One principal point of good breeding is to suit our
behavior to the three several degrees of men, — our supe-
riors, our equals, and those below us. — Swift.
The sophist contents himself with appearances, the
dialectician with proofs; the philosopher seeks to know
through examination and evidence. — Joubert.
Oppose kindness to perverseness. The heavy sword
will not cut soft silk; by using sweet words and gentle-
ness you may lead an elephant with a hair. — Saadi.
There is no knowledge for which so great a price is
paid as a knowledge of the world ; and no one ever be-
came an adept in it except at the expense of a hardened
or a wounded heart. — Lady Blessington.
Let a man take time enough for the most trivial
deed, though it be but the paring of his nails. The
buds swell imperceptibly, without hurry or confusion,
— as if the short spring days were an eternity. — Thoreau.
THE OPEN COURT.
693
The Open Court.
A. Fortnightly Journal.
Published every other Thursday at i6g to 175 La Salle Street, (Nixon
Buildingl, corner Monroe Street, by
THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY.
EDWARD C. HEGELER, - President.
DR. PAUL CARUS,
Editor and Manager.
This Journal is devoted to the work of conciliat-
ing Religion with Science. The founder and editor
have found this conciliation in Monism, to present
and defend which will be the main object of THE
OPEN COURT.
Terms of subscription, including postage, three dollars per
year in advance.
All communications and business letters should be addressed to
The Open Court Publishing Company.
P. O. Drawer F, Chicago, Illinois.
THURSDAY, JANUARY 19, 1888.
SUPPLEMENT TO THE STATEMENTS RELATING
TO THE RESIGNATION OF THE LATE EDITORS.
One of my published letters addressed to Mr. 13. F.
Underwood, dated December 10, 1SS6, mentioning re-
negotiations with Mr. George Schumm, is misconstrued
by the latter as an intention of mine to mislead the
public in regard to my desire not to offend Roman
Catholics. So I hereby state that my intention is that
The Open Court shall treat the Roman Catholic*
with as much consideration and due regard as the
Protestant, the progressive Churchman and the Free-
thinker. Mr. Schumm's misapprehension is apparently
caused partly by a defective punctuation, and partly by
the omisson of a passage having no reference to the
object for which the coriespondence is published. I
learned lately that where Professor Swing is mentioned,
the name of Dr. Thomas, another progressive clergy-
man of Chicago, should appear. My mistake resulted
from the similar treatment which Professor Swing re-
peatedly received in Mr. Schumm's paper, 7 he Radical
Review. In justice to Mr. Schumm and the writer of
the article referred to, I will state that the same besides
being humorous, was serious at the same time. My
letter concerning Mr. Schumm so far as it comes into
question, is here republished with all the defects of the
original as the appear in the press copy :
La Salle, Dec. 10, 1886.
B. F. Underwood, Esq., Boston, Mass:
My Dear Sir — Your two letters of December 6th arrived last
evening only. Your letter of December 7th arrived this morn-
ing. I have only a few minutes time now to answer and will
use this to say that I have not been negotiating about the start-
ing of the Chicago paper, except with Mr. Schumm, whereof I
* Attention is called to the concluding paragraph of Carus Sterne's essay,
at the foot of the first column, p. 671 in No. 23 ot The Open Cocrt.
believe to have fully informed von. This is now nearly two years
ago. Mr. Schumm never asked me about Mich a written guar-
antee, whereof your friend writes, but after he was here in
La Salle witli me some time, declared that he was convinced he
could not edit a paper satisfactory to me. He had shown tome
certain contributions sent him for the same — the one a very
humorous article on the Easter services in the various Chicago
churches from the "Catholic" — to "Swing's" — and Swing was
hardest dealt with, which I told him were against my views in
regard to the paper. Possibly the writer of them is the informer
of your friend, though that may be an error
The passage referring to my disagreement with Mr.
Schumm on account of the contributions was retained
in the publication of the letter to show that it was on
both sides a matter of principle. The final part of the
sentence "which I told him zverc against my views,"
refers to and can only refer.to the words " He had shown
to me certain contributions sent him for the same."
Mr. B. F. Underwood has not availed himself of my
invitation " If Mr. Underwood should notice any omis-
sions, which he thinks should not have been made from
the corresponence or memoranda of the meetings they
shall be supplemented on his application," but gives his
reasons for resigning in a pamphlet whereof he sent
me a cop}-.
In a postal card to The Open Court he also re-
quests to announce in the next issue that his address is
86 South Page street, Chicago.
I have read the pamphlet and find that I have to
make the following correction in my statement of the
September meeting (made from memory). I said: " In
a later conversation it appeared that his feelings against
Dr. Carus arose from the latter's article " Monism,
Dualism and Agnosticism," .... He said, as I under-
stood him, in reference to Dr. Carus contribution, " If I
want to insult a man I do it direct."
Mr. Underwood states that this remark did not refer
to the above but had reference to his (Mr. Underwood's)
action in regard to Dr. Carus' article on the " Xenions."
Upon inquiry from the gentleman who was present, I
learn that in this particular Mr. Underwood is right.
Mr. Underwood, however, in a much stronger form,
himself gives in his letter to Dr. Carus, of December 23
(latter part of page 34 in his pamphlet), the evidence of
the fact which was to be proven by my quotation.
Page 8, line 11, in Mr. Underwood's pamphlet
induces me to publish in full a translation of my letter
leading to Dr. Carus' engagement:
Dr. Paul Carcs, New York: La Salle, Jan. 31, 1S87.
Dear Sir — Your favor of January 24 reached me on my return
to La Salle. What you write has my full interest. To what you
say in particular regarding The Open Col rt, I have to answer
that Mr. and Mr*. Underwood are independent editors and man-
agers of the same, though subject to such conditions as may be
hereafter mutually agreed upon; still I wish to make the path of
the editors as smooth as possibc.
But what you wish to carry into effect, the transplanting of
European (especially German) thought to America, is what I par-
694
THE OPEN COURT.
ticularly desire. You will see in the first number of The Open
Court what was produced in my realistic brain by my teachers,
mostly Germans, especially Gustav Freitag in his Lost Manu-
script, together with my old friend Professor Bayrhoffer, also in-
directly by Kant through Felix Adler, Salter and an article in the
Gegenitiart (by Noire"); also by Herbert Spencer, Darwin and
Haeckel. I now bring these ideas before the American public.
We incorporate The Open Court Publishing Company, whose
publications will perhaps not be limited to The Open Court.
Now devoting my means and also my personal activity to an
undertaking which is of public interest, I desire at the same time
to give to my children, as well as to others in my immediate en-
vironment an opportunity for a broader knowledge. I believe to
attain this by bringing you here.
Reflecting upon a definite proposition I think of my contract
with Mr. and Mrs. Underwood. I accepted Mr. Underwood's
proposition which was ior his and his wife's work $i, 800 per year
Hereby he reserved his right of lecturing occasionally. At his
request the contract was made for one year. This suggests to
me to propose for you a salary of $1,200 annually.
I read part of Zickel's journals, which you sent me, with
pleasure.
In the hope of hearing from you soon, I remain
Very respectfully yours,
Edward C. Hegeler.
One of my motives why I did not publish Mrs.
Underwood's letter with the other correspondence was
that I wished to avoid injuring her.
The notice on The Open Court in The Chicago
Graphic, of which Mr. Underwood speaks in his
pamphlet, was written on the request of its owner and
editor, with Dr. Carus' knowledge, by a gentleman who
had seen an advance copy of The Open Court, except
the editorial part containing my correspondence with
Mr. Underwood. The notice reads:
Dr. Paul Carus was born and educated in Germany. He is the
son of a high dignitary of the church of Prussia, and studied in
the classics and philosophy at the University of Strasburg and
Tubingen. He was appointed professor at the Royal Corps of
Cadets in Dresden ; but after a few years resigned his position on
account of his liberal views which conflict with those of the
authorities. Dr. Carus came to this country where he has been
engaged in literary work and in teaching in Boston and New
York. Besides other pamphlets he wrote a philosophical treatise
entitled Monism and Meliorism, published by W. C. Christern,
New Yoik, 1885. This clear and forcible essay attracted Mr.
Hegeler's attention to the ability of the German scholar. Mr.
Hegeler had just started The Open Court, a journal of popular
science for the diffusion of his ideas and philosophical views, which
he thinks are best represented in the philosophy of Monism.
Accordingly he invited Dr. Carus to come West to assist him in
expounding Monistic philosophy. Dr. Carus accepted, and, when
two or three weeks ago, Mr. Underwood resigned his position, was
appointed editor of The Open Court by Mr. Hegeler. The
first number under the new management has just appeared, and
proves itself in every respect equal to its predecessors. Its con-
tents are more popular, and besides the usual contributions, there
are choice translations from prominent German authors.
This statement of Dr. Carus' previous career* I know
to be a modest one. Dr. Carus was induced by the
editor of The Graphic to give his photograph and infor-
* Mr. Hegeler, at the last moment, requests the publication of a document
which, on account of lack of space here, will be found on page 70s.
mation through the latter's statement that he had also
published a notice with the pictures of the late editors
in his journal (July 23, 1SS7).
The pamphlet of the late editors is evidently written
under great excitement, and I believe that the authors
thereof will sooner or later repent having written it.
Edward C. Hegeler.
MONISM AND RELIGION.
Monism does not represent, as has been claimed, a
sect or school of philosophy. Its principle is the basis
and very core of science. According to Monism all that
exists, ourselves included, is one great, continuous, immeas-
urable whole, and all its laws must agree with each
other. Where they differ from each other they do so
only by a difference of circumstances. They never can
conflict with each other, and wherever it appears to us
that they do, we may rest assured that ive are in error,
for nature is one and does not contradict herself. Accord-
ingly if a philosophical view or conception is proved to
be dualistic, this is in itself a deduct io ad absitrdum.
What Kant said about his criticism can also truly be
said of Monism : "The danger is not that of being
refuted but of being misunderstood."
This of course does not mean that everything which
is claimed to be Monism is true Monism. There is '
scarcely any philosophy which does not pretend to be
monistic, but all who pretend to be Monists are not
really such. Their theories are often impracticable or
one-sided, and in such cases do not explain all natural
phenomena, but only a smaller or greater part. There
is no better proof for the correctness of a philosophic
view than that it harmonizes with all facts.
One of the most essential features of the human race
is its religious aspiration. Religion is found among all
races, among civilized nations as well as among savage
tribes. This is an ethnological fact which is only
strengthened by the contradiction of those who claim to
be without religion. Their irreligion is only due to
their dissatisfaction with the present forms of religion
and to an attempt to establish a new religion of their
own, for which perhaps they have not as yet been able
to discover a solid basis.
Man is a being endowed with speech, therefore he
is, as Noire and Professor Max Miiller declare, a rea-
soning being. A being which has acquired reason
must become aware of its connection with and of its
relation to nature. No individual is a separate entity;
it is dependent upon its surroundings and is the result of
a long process of evolution. Man thus becomes con-
scious of his relation to his ancestors, his fellow-beings,
to nature, and finally to the All — of which he is and
begins to feel himself a part. This being aware of his
relation to the All, his feeling himself a part of the All,
is religion. Accordingly, a speaking animal must
THE OPEN COURT.
695
become a religious being, and instead of wondering at
the fact that all nations possess a religion of some kind,
we should be astonished if there were any beings
endowed with the gift of speech without religion.
Religion implies ethics; for ethics, in a word, is the
adjustment of our lives and actions in accordance with
the laws of the All.
It has often been stated that religion and ethics are
in conflict with nature and also with natural science, as
nature is ruled by the " must " and ethics teaches the
" ought." Any religion or any science which teaches
this, is dualistic, for although we may interpret nature
wrongly, and although we may also teach unnatural
ethics, nature and ethics cannot be at variance. Wher-
ever they seem to collide with each other our ideas
about ethics or about nature are wrong. Ethics being
based upon the correct understanding of our relation to
the All, is the noblest result of natural life ; it is, so far as
we have progressed, the best, the highest and grandest,
the summiim bonum we have. And our remaining in
the right relation to the All is the very condition of our
further existence and continuance after death in the lives
of those who will be as much ourselves as we to-day are
the sum total of our ancestors.
From the standpoint of Monism religion cannot be
in conflict with science, and only a narrow or wrong
conception of science or of religion can maintain that
there is eternal enmity between both.
The progress of science, it has often been supposed,
is dangerous to religion. If the discovering and the re-
vealing of truth is science, this cannot be true except for
those religions which are false. But in such cases the
revealing of truth will not be dangerous but wholesome
to religion; i. e. true religion. It will only destroy what
is false and thus purify our religious ideals.
Our relation to the All is no obscure and unknow-
able province of our emotional aspirations. It is plainly
recognizable and should be made the object of our in
vestigations. There is no merit in vague imaginings
and indistinct feelings. Clear thought, an honest will
and straightforward actions agree well, and from the
standpoint of Monism must be in perfect harmony.
It is a common mistake of the savage — as is seen in
those religions which are generally called pagan — to
make the unknown, because it is unknown, the ob-
ject of our religious emotion. Only a savage can bow
down to worship the thunder because he does not un-
derstand its nature. The maturer mind will seek for
the causes of natural phenomena and, without worship-
ing natural powers, will remain conscious of his relation
to nature as well as to the All at large and act in harmony
with them ; i. e. he will remain religious and act ethically.
To be religious we need not believe in miracles, we
need not be idolators, nor need we imagine that there is
a supernatural realm behind or beyond nature. All
these are features of paganism. Any religion which is
true religion is free of such crude fancies. True religion,
so far as it it free of superstition or supernaturalism, is
monistic and the proper ethics is the actualization of
Monism in our lives. p. c.
ETHOS ANTHROPOI DAIMON.
It is a good sign of our time that Mr. Peabody's
calendar is seen almost everywhere. It decorates the
drawing-room of many fashionable houses, and is an
ornament of editorial and other offices. The tendency
of the calendar is so much in harmony with the princi-
ples of The Open Court that we cannot but call atten-
tion to the deep significance of its inscription, which is
worth while having before one's eyes every day in the
year. 11602 'ANOPttrmi AAIMHN is almost untranslatable
into English. The translation ' character is man's des-
tiny' although quite correct, does not exhaust its mean-
ing. 'HiJof means, like the German Sitte, custom or
habit or character. But it conveys more than custom ;
it means the habits of man so far as they produce civiliza-
tion and make him humane. It includes his morals. In
this sense Schiller says:
" Unci allein durch seine Sitte
Kann er (tier Mensck) frei unci machtig sein."
From Wot; is derived the English word Ethics, which
has acquired the narrower meaning of iftoq in the sense
of moral behavior. This ')'*»?, our Greek inscription tells
us, is to man his dahnon ; viz, his God, his deity, his con-
science or guidance. p. c.
FROM METAPHYSICISM TO POSITIVISM.
I am charged with a change of opinion by the late
editor, who states in a letter published in his pamphlet:
"In your pamphlet you had spoken of ' the limits at
which our knowledge comes to a stand and where the
province of the unknowable commences.'" This is
quoted as if it were a proof of my former agnosticism.
The passage in my Monism and Meliorism, p. 46, in
its connection with the antecedent sentences, runs as fol-
lows : " Before we venture on metaphysics, let us know
what physics is, and before we make statements about
the unknowable, let us define what is knowable; es-
pecially let us have a clear conception as to what is the
process, by which that cognizance is attained. If that
is understood, I trust, that from the nature of cognition
itself we may find the limit at which our knowledge
comes to a stand and where the province of the unknow-
able commences."
This is sufficient to prove that the quotation is out of
place. The quoted passage proves that when I wrote
my pamphlet Monism and Meliorism I was as
strongly opposed to the negative dogmatism of agnosti-
cism as I am now.
I take the opportunity of stating here that my essay
Monism and Meliorism is not yet free of metaphy-
696
THE OPEN COURT.
sicism. This metaphysicism is expressed in the view stated
on page 4S, that, although "all objects in the world are
comprehensible " "the principles of cognition are in them-
selves incomprehensible." I say on page 47 " by means of
these principles we are able to comprehend anything in
the world — yes, anything except the world itself, and so
really nothing." I have changed this view, which Mr.
Hegeler classes under the " Reason Superstition " of
which Max Muller speaks in his lectures, p. 36S of The
Open Court. I gave expression to my present view
in the editorial of No. 23, " The Unknowable." My
former position was, to use an analogy, as if 1 declared
the whole structure of mathematical theorems to be
recognizable and provable — except its axioms. The
axioms being their foundation, I said, " thus everything is
provable except the whole of mathematics, and so really
nothing." Now I say, that as in mathematics, the axioms
?iee<i not be proven, so the ultimate principles also lie with-
in the range of our possible knowledge. As soon as they
are understood, they will be recognized as most simple
and self-evident. This change of opinion from meta-
phycism to positivism is due to my study of modern psy-
chology, with which I became acquainted during my stay
at La Salle, where I read for the first time carefully, part
of the works of Ribot, Hering, etc., and devoted much
interest and thought to this special subject. p. c.
From a letter of Theodore Stanton's to Galignani's
Messenger we learn that Mme. Jules Favre has trans-
lated Emerson's complete works into French.
REFLEX MOTIONS.*
BY G. H. SCHNEIDER.
The idea of reflex motions as it is generally applied
in physiology, is based on the anatomical fact that there
are certain sensory and motor nerves which are histo-
logically connected and physiologically related in certain
nerve centers. Generally, motions which are produced
by the transference of the irritation, caused by stimu-
lating external sensory nerves, to certain motor nerves
by means of the central organs, are called reflex
motions.
Originally only such motions as were produced when
the irritation was either not felt at all, or when it
caused only agreeable or disagreeable sensations, were
called reflex motions. Under this category come those
which depend upon the irritation of the mucous mem-
brane (coughing, sneezing, vomiting, etc. ); those which
are due to the influence of heat and cold on the skin,
and the irritation of the same due to immediate contact
(the sudden withdrawal of certain parts of the bodv,
respiratory motions, etc.); those 'passing through the
spinal cord when sympathetic nerves are irritated, in
which case we do not feel the irritation; and finally,
•Translated from the German: Der menschliche Wille vom Standpunct
der neueren Entwickelungs Tkeorien. Berlin.
such motions as are produced by the irritation of the
higher senses, only, however, when this irritation causes
sensations, as for instance, sensations of pain, and not the
perception of various objects, (involuntary blinking
caused by a glaring light, etc. )
All other motions occurring in the body of an ani-
mal, and all movements of plants were excluded from
the domain of reflex motions. Whether reflex motions
were possible in the sympathetic nervous system inde-
pendent of the spinal cord and the brain, — whether the
motions produced by irritation of a heart or intestine
that has been entirely separated from all other parts of
the body, were reflex motions, is a problem that had not
been determined. Joh, Muller, the founder of the
newer school of physiology felt obliged to assume the
negative; at all events, he did not consider the fact as
proven. Marshall Hall limited the domain of reflex
motions to the cerebro-spinal nerves, and thus excluded
the motions which were produced by irritation of the
sensory nerves.
Opinions also differed as to the value of the phe-
nomena of consciousness in reflex motions. Wrytt,
Cullen, Volkmann explained most reflex motions as
spontaneous reactions conforming to conscious sensa-
tions, and thus laid special stress upon the psychic im-
petus. But Joh. Muller considered the phenomena of
consciousness as altogether superfluous in the case of
reflex motions.
Joh. Muller said: "As regards the relation of sen-
sation to reflex motion, a consciousness of the former is
not at all necessary to produce the latter. According to
my opinion the irritation of a sensory spinal nerve
causes centripetal action of the nervous impulse toward
the spinal cord. If the irritation reaches the sensorium
commune, we have a conscious sensation. If, however,
on account of the severance of the spinal cord it does
not reach the sensorium commune, it retains all its
power in the form of centripetal action upon the spinal
cord. In both cases the centripetal action of a sensory
nerve can produce reflex motion. In the former case
the centripetal action simultaneously became sensation,
in the latter case it did not; but in either case it is
sufficient to produce centrifugal reflex motion."
This opinion, which Joh. Muller entertained, has to
the present day been accepted as the most compre-
hensive definition of reflex motions.
Even to-day only " motions which are the immediate
result of external irritation of a sensitive organism,
and which have their physiological reason in the central
connection of certain sensory and motor nerves, are
unanimously classed as reflex motions."*
Strictly speaking, then, according to this conception,
neither such motions, as are due to some phenomenon of
consciousness in addition to the mere material mechan-
*Joh. Miiller, Handbuch der Physiologies Vol. I. p. 621.
THE OPEN COURT.
697
ism, — nor such motions as are produced without a
differentiated nervous system, as for instance, move-
ments of the lowest animals and of plants, can be re-
garded as reflex motions.
Nevertheless it has been customary to designate as
reflex motions, also those movements which animals, in
which only the lobes of the brain have been destroyed,
make, — movements that very clearly indicate an ad-
justment to external conditions, — that are due not only
to sensation, but to the perception of an object in the
distance, that are beyond doubt caused by the phenomena
of consciousness, because they come into existence with-
out the co-operation of the will- power. On the other
hand there is ho longer any hesitation in classing the
movements of lower animals, whose organization is en-
tirely devoid of nerves, and also the movements of
plants, — for instance, sun-dew, Venus fly-traps, sensitive
plants etc., as reflex motions.
The analysis of our actions has long ago demon-
strated that we make a great number of suitable move-
ments, which are unintentionally called forth directly
by the perceptions of our eyes, and which result invol-
untarily. Such movements, which I call instincts of
perception, are usually observable in all habits.
The course of long and much practiced and there-
fore frequently repeated actions, no longer depends on
individual intentions; but it depends directly upon per-
ception and sensations. The expression of emotions
shows that a great number of movements are uninten-
tionally produced and their course determined through
the perception by sight of such phenomena as produce
joy, fear, fright, anger or any other emotions. The
same is the case in the imitative movements made in a
hypnotic condition. They are made without having a
definite object; and they are caused directly by the per-
ceptions of sight and hearing, with which they are very
intimately associated.
As these movements are caused by the irritation of
external sensory nerves, without the co-operation of the
will-power proper, they have all from a physiological
standpoint been regarded as reflex motions. It has,
however, been found necessary to classify them still
further as "arbitrary reflex motions." Even to-day
physiologists are not sure whether or not these move-
ments depend entirely on the material mechanism which
is inherited; and it is a characteristic attitude of psychol-
ogists that they have not been able to inform physiolo-
gists in what respect these movements differ psycholog-
ically from the above mentioned reflex motions. Nobody
can doubt that this difference, which we shall further on
describe more fully, is purely a psychological one, while
these instincts of perception do not differ physiologically
in the least from the above mentioned reflex motions.
If we were to be so ingenuous as to assume that all
suitable movements, which are caused by impressions
made on the sense of sight, depend entirely on the ma-
terial mechanism of the nerves, and that the phenomena
of consciousness are absolutely superfluous, we would
be equally warranted in asserting, that also the conscious
intentional actions can be explained as depending solely
on this mechanism. Then we would have to acknowl-
edge that all phenomena of consciousness are superflu-
ous, and the question would arise as to what purpose
consciousness had developed in animals.
As has elsewhere been shown, the phenomena of
consciousness are not altogether superfluous, but have
a definite object. They are not an unnecessary adjunct
to the motions just enumerated, but these depend entirely
or at least partly upon them.
As I have already demonstrated elsewhere, it is
altogether wrong to regard those movements in which
we are conscious both of the irritation and the motion, or
even those movements which are caused by the discern-
ment of individual objects at a distance, as reflex motions,
in the sense in which this term has hitherto been used;
i. e. as motions which can be explained as being due
simply to the material mechanism and to purely physio-
logical processes.-
The uncertainty as to what motions are to be con-
sidered reflex motions, and whether all reflex motions
are or are not to be explained as being due solely to the
material mechanism of the nerves, and the arbitrariness
with which the domain of reflex actions is at one time
limited to the cerebro-spinal nerves, at another to the
sensor)- nerves of the brain, and sometimes extended so
as to embrace also the sympathetic nervous system, and
the lower animals and plants, are no doubt due chiefly
to the lack of effort to distinguish purely physiological
processes from psychological phenomena.
Among the physiological phenomena there is no such
great difference as that which exists between physiolog-
ical and psychological processes. Therefore this great
difference must be duly observed.
The processes in the lowest animals, in the plant or-
ganism and in the sympathetic nervous system are
physiological phenomena just as much as those which in
the animal organism take place in the central nervous
system.
From a purely physiological standpoint, the phe-
nomena of motion occurring in the central nervous sys-
tem cannot be regarded as differing radically from those
occurring in the sympathetic nervous system, in the low-
est animals and in plants. The former are physiolog-
ical phenomena just as well as the latter.
The difference between the processes in the animal
nervous system and all other processes in animal and
plant organisms is due to the presence of the psychical
element in the former. And if we wish to distinguish the
processes of irritation in the central nervous system of
698
THE OREN COURT.
the higher animals from all other irritations in the ani-
mal and plant organism, it is only by means of the psy-
chical impulse that we can do so.
We might also claim, that from a purely physiolog-
ical standpoint the irritations in the central nervous system
are to be considered as radically different from the pro-
cesses of other movements in the animal organism, as
also from those in plants, because in the former case
we have to deal only with differentiated sensory and
motor nerves.
If, however, we ask, " to what purpose this differentia-
tion has developed," we must answer, that it is not to
produce a group of phenomena differing from other vital
proces-ses in physiological respects, but to render psy-
chical movements possible.
It certainly seems remarkable, not to say absurd,
that while we designate as reflex actions those very pro-
cesses which take place in the animal nervous system
in the seat of consciousness, — and that while we designate
as reflex actions those movements with which the phe-
nomena of consciousness are invariably or generally con-
nected, and in the case of which either the irritation or
the motion or both are plainly felt, — we nevertheless ac-
cept as reflex motions only those processes of move-
ments which can be explained as being due solely to
the material organism and in which the phenomena of
consciousness are superfluous.
According to this, the conception of reflex motions
is partly physiological, in so far as it embraces purely
physiological processes, and partly psychological, in so
far as it relates only to the processes in the animal nervous
system.
But as, on the other hand, we must distinguish psy-
chical from physiological phenomena, and regard both
as radically different, the conception of reflex actions
which has obtained hitherto is altogether untenable.
To acquire a better understanding of the processes of
movements in living organisms we must make a distinc-
tion between physiological and psychical reflex actions,
corresponding to the difference in the conceptions of
physiological and psychological phenomena.
Physiological reflex motions are processes of move-
ments of a material kind, which in a living organism are
caused by particular processes of irritation, and which
have their origin in the material organization and the
physiological properties of the organism. It seems to
me that this definition leaves no doubt as to what move-
ments are to be included. To this class belong not only
all reflex motions of the animal nervous system which
are independent of all phenomena of consciousness, and
which are due solely to the material processes in the
nerves, but also those motions which are produced by
the organic or sympathetic nervous system; as, for
instance, the movements of a segregated heart or intes-
tine when irritated. In the lower animals, in which the
nervous system has not yet become differentiated into
specific animal and organic ones, as also in those animal
organisms which have no differentiated nerve substance
whatever all movements that are the result of irritations,
— no matter whether these be mechanical, chemical or
electrical, — in so far as they are independent of every
phenomenon of consciousness and have their causation
in the physiological properties of the organism, are to
be considered physiological reflex motions. Likewise
all movements which plants make after being subjected
to particular irritations are purely physiological reflex
motions.
Thus physiological reflex motions differ from purely
mechanical reflex motions as regards the physical pro-
cesses which are also called reflex motions, chiefly in
that they take place in living organisms only and have
their cause in the vegetative process of life.
Psychical reflex motions on the other hand are those
which are caused by the phenomena of consciousness
and which have their origin in the psychical properties
of the organism.
To this class belongs every movement in which we
are in the least degree conscious of the irritation as well
as of the movement. Such are all the movements
which, in vertebrates, take place in the animal nervous
system only. We must moreover consider all move-
ments in invertebrate animals, which by analogy we
may suppose to depend upon the phenomena of con-
sciousness, as in the case of man, as psychical reflex
motions.
Two mechanical phenomena, which are related to
each other as cause and effect, form a mechanical reflex
motion. Similarly we speak of a chemical reflex action
(chemical reaction). Two physiological phenomena,
which are related to each other as cause and effect, form
a physiological reflex motion ; and two psychical phe-
nomena, which are related to each other as cause and
effect, form a psychical reflex motion.
In each case, in the psychical as well as in the physi-
ological phenomena, it is simply a question of cause and
effect. As we cannot trace psychical or physiological
processes to mechanical causes — and as we distinguish
the various groups of mechanical, physiological and
psychological phenomena, we must correspondingly also
distinguish mechanical, physiological and psychological
causes — and mechanical, physiological and psychological
effects, respectively.
A physiological reflex motion may be produced by
some external, mechanical or chemical cause, or the irri-
tation may be caused internally by the process of life of
the organism.
But there are three classes of psychical reflex
motions. In the first place psychical irritations may be
caused by external mechanical influences; in which case
the successive results are as follows: The effect of the
THE OPEN COURT.
699
mechanical cause is a physiological irritation, the irrita-
tation of sensory nerves; this irritation again becomes
a cause and produces psychical irritation in the form of
sensation and perception. It is this last named irritation
which produces the psychical reflex motion, as impulse
and will; this effect again becomes a cause whose effect
is another physiological irritation, the irritation of the
motor nerves; and this last at length produces another
mechanical effect, such as the movement of some part of
the body.
Secondly, the psychical reflex motion may be caused
by some physiological change in the body; and lastly,
the psychical irritation may also be produced directly by
other psychical processes.
No matter how or with what causes the reflex
motion may begin, the two psychical links are the
essential features and at once determine the process as
a psychological reflex motion.
When we compare physiological and psychical reflex
motions which are produced by external causes, with the
mechanical reflex motion, we see that in physiological
reflex motions the physiological cause and effect is
inserted between the two mechanical links — and that in
psychical reflex motions the psychical cause and effect
is inserted between the physiological links, as I shall
demonstrate in the following diagrams:
Fig. 1. Mechanical Reflex Motion.
Mechanical
Cause
Fig. 2. Physiological Reflex Motion.
Mechanical Effect and
Physiological Cause.
Mechanical
Cause.
Physiological Effect and
Mechanical Cause.
Mechanical
Effect.
Fig. 3. Psychical Reflex Motion.
Physiological Eftect and A Psychical Eftect and
Psychical Cause. / \ Physiological Cause.
Mechanical Eftect and 1 -A \ Physiological Effect and
Physiological Cause. / / \ \ Mechanical Cause.
Mechanical
Cause.
Mechanical
Effect.
Just as on the one hand, all mechanical and chemi-
cal processes may be resolved into mechanical and
chemical reactions respectively, and on the other, all
physiological phenomena may be resolved into individ-
ual physiological reflex motions, so also an analysis of
psychical phenomena shows that they are composed of
individual psychical reflex processes. According to this
not only a few involuntary motions such as coughing,
sneezing, vomiting, scratching, closing of the eye- lids,
etc., are psychical reflex phenomena, but the most
complicated actions of an adult human being are com-
posed of several reflex effects, as I have shown in my
book entitled The Human Will.
Physiological phenomena differ from chemical and
mechanical phenomena in that the former serve a defin-
ite purpose, the preservation of species. In the process
of life of organisms those processes are always related,
and causatively connected and produce reflex motions,
the original connection of which is favorable and thus
suitable for the preservation of the species. And the
systematic as well as the individual development of
organisms shows a gradual increase and higher develop-
ment of these suitable causal relations of various pro-
cesses. According to the laws of evolution this seems
to be self-evident. For the fundamental principle of
the preservation of species is to preserve qualities that
preserve the species.
Thus in the case of human beings and other animals
we find suitable relations — i. e. relations that are favor-
able to preservation between the nutriment taken and
the secretion of the glands; between the process of di-
gestion and the movement of the bowels; between the
nutriment taken and the rush of the blood to the digestive
organs; between the waste of the tissues and the supply
of nutriment by the blood, and between the consumption
and the frequency of the heart-beats and the movements
of respiration, etc.
These suitable causal relations, all of which together
constitute the vegetative life, have gradually developed
according to the laws of evolution.
Numerous suitable causal relations between various
psychical phenomena have evolved from the same causes.
All the actions of a human being depend on the devel-
opment of these causal relations.
As we shall show more fully elsewhere these suit-
able relations exist between the feeling of hunger and
the appetence for food; between the feeling of disgust
and the inclination to expectorate; between the feeling
of a lack of air and the desire to breathe; between the
perception of certain objects in the distance and the im-
pulse to grab or to avoid them ; between the perception
of an individual of the other sex and the feeling of love
and the sexual instinct; between the perception of dan-
ger and the impulse to flee from it, etc. Similarly,
analogous causal relations to those which exist between
perceptions and the corresponding impulses, are also
found between the conceptions (the reproductions of per-
ceptions and sensations) of desirable or pernicious objects
and the feeling of desire or repulsion that they produce.
According to this the various psychical reflex motions
are divided into three classes. 1. Those which are pro-
700
THE OPEN COURT.
duced by subjective sensations and by the immediate
contact with external objects. 2. Those which are
caused by the perception of objects in the distance.
3. Those which have their origin in conceptions (the
reproductions of sensations and perceptions). Thus we
must distinguish between
1. Reflex motions due to sensation.
2. Reflex motions due to perception.
3. Reflex motions due to conceptions.
This classification corresponds to the structure of the
brain. The reflex actions due to sensations emanate
from the spinal cord, the medulla oblongata, the cercbel-
lum and the thalami optici. The reflex actions due to
perception proceed from the corpora quadrigemina, and,
finally, the reflex actions due to conceptions originate in
the cortex and the corpora striata.
In the development of life in general and also in the
individual development of human beings" reflex motions
due to sensation develop first; then, with these as a basis,
develop reflex actions due to perception and finally
reflex actions due to conceptions.
By the successive and simultaneous combinations of
psychical reflex motions not only instinctive but also in-
tentional actions are produced. All of these belong to
definite groups and classes of reflex phenomena, which
not only combine, but also mutually augment, injure or
counteract each other.
The reflex motions due to sensation and perception,
which may also be called sensory reflex motions, consti-
tute the instinctive actions. Intentional actions or arbi-
trary movements, on the other hand, are composed of
reflex actions due to sensation, perception and concep-
tion; and this in the following manner — the latter always
form the first links in the chain of reflex motion, thus
always giving the first impulse for the action, while the
course of the actions is determined by the reflex motion
due to perception and sensation.
Thus, as we understand it, all processes of nature,
the inorganic — i. e. mechanical and chemical — as well as
the organic, and psychical as well as physiological pro-
cesses are reflex phenomena. The relation of every
effect to some cause is a reflex phenomenon. But with
reference to causal connection all phenomena, even the
psychical, are so related. We are never able to do more
than merely trace these causal connections.
As long as we must distinguish groups of mechan-
ical, chemical, physiological and psychological phenom-
ena; as long as we cannot yet derive the phenomena of
one of these groups directly from those of another; and
as long as we must be content to consider the processes
within such a group relatively, just so long must we also
distinguish between mechanical, chemical, physiological
and psychical reflex actions.
If we examine the phenomena of will from this point
of view, we see that the acts of will in a narrower sense,
just as well as all physiological processes and all phe-
nomena in general, are only more or less composite reflex
motions combined according to definite laws.
IMMORTALITY.
BY SOLOMON SOLIS-COHEN.
I dreamed my spirit broke the bars of sense
That hold the gates of consciousness shut fast,
Threw off the prison-garb of Self, and passed
Into the wonder of omniscience.
As mists that rise from ocean, and condense
In clouds, in million rain-drops melt, at last
Through brooks and rivers join again the vast
Primeval sea — so do I read the Whence
And Whither of the soul.
When stream meets sea,
Is the swift river- wave forever gone?
When souls rejoin All-Soul, cease they to be?
There where the All is Thought, and Thought is One
Within the Infinite All, eternally,
The thought once bound in me, lives boundless on.
DEATH.
BY A. B.
Out of the future
Cometh an hour
Nameless and aimless,
Armed with dread power,
Bringing the ending,
And by its call
Life is dissolved,
Into the All.
CORRESPONDENCE.
SOCIAL STUDIES.
To the Editor: New York, Jan. 6, iSSS.
At present the city of New York is one great seething cal-
dron of conventions, assemblies, unions, lodges and meetings of
every description, kept in agitation by the fires of social and
political discontent. Proofs of the aggregation of wealth and
power in the hands of a few individuals and corporations who
control the activities of the country, and manifestos of resistance
against a system which is reducing the masses to machines,
furnish the materials to keep up the ebullition. It is needless to
say that professional agitators and politicians are the stokesmen.
A few laboring men who have risen from the ranks of their fel-
lows, either through genuine convictions or for the sake of the
reward, devote their energies to this work with eminent success.
Among the discontented who are divided into factions accord-
ing to temperament and development, may be counted, first, the
Socialists, who greatly outnumber any popular estimate. Many
a staid citizen who makes no sign of his proclivities, is, in private,
an ardent propagandize!" of Socialism. Count him not therefore
a bomb-throwing Anarchist, whose methods he detests, though
whose execution he deplores. The true Socialist is legally
destructive as well as ardently constructive. He tries to influ-
ence public opinion through newspapers, tracts and at the polls.
His raison it'c/re, too well-known to be enlarged upon, is founded
upon the possession by the few of the complicated means of pro-
THE OPEN COURT.
or
duction. This condemns the wage-laborer to hard and hopeless
poverty, builds up immense fortunes and creates classes, all ol
which is opposed to the genius of democracy. He claims that
because the workman has no means of competing with the capi-
talist, wholesale production constantly increases, while none of it
accrues to his own benefit. He declares that relief will be brought
about, not by abolishing the present system of production at
wholesale, but by extending it, shorn of its individual or corpo-
rate head. He desires to have all production organized co-opera-
tively, to be carried on under the direction and for the benefit of
the whole commonwealth. He wishes to see the soil, belonging
to all the people, tilled according to a scientific plan; to have
commerce stripped of speculation, and an immense number of
middlemen relegated to the ranks of producers; to have railroads
and telegraphs operated by the government, and to have lands
houses, factories, mines and machinery belong to the people and
not to an individual or to a corporation He does not, however,
propose to abolish private property with capital, since a man may
either hoard or save his income as he chooses. In a new social
system where each finds his place and his work, he hopes to see
the dawning of an earthly paradise.
With this end in view the Socialists of New York are doing
their utmost to send their own representatives into legislative
bodies who would introduce such measures as the reduction of the
hours of work, the prohibition of child-labor, and the payment of
equal wages for the same amount of work done by men and
women. They have already between fifty and sixty local Socials
comprising at least S.ooo members. They have very lately
entered the political field in opposition to the United Labor party
under the leadership of Henry George, taking the name of the
Progressive Labor party. A busy place is their central office and
publishing house in Second avenue, whence books and tracts are
constantly issued. One of their ablest and most brilliant writers,
Lawrence Gronlund. who is an authority among them, lately
held long conversations with Mayor Hewitt upon socialistic top-
ics. No refutation of the land-tax theory of Henry GeDrge has
been more able than that of Mr. Gronlund. It is believed by
competent judges that a book now in press at the Appleton's,
entitled Wealth and Progress, is the most complete refutation of
Henry George's theory yet given. The author, Geo. Gunton,
Esq., had two articles in the Forum, one in March, the other in
the preceding April, which attracted great interest.
The Knights of Labor were not organized as a political party,
nor are they acting as such. In their Constitution they declare
their aims are :
1. " To make industrial and moral worth, not wealth, the
true standard of individual and national greatness.
2. "To secure to the workers the full enjoyment of the
wealth they create, sufficient leisure in which to develop their
intellectual, moral and social faculties; all of the benefits, recrea-
tion and pleasures of association ; in a word, to enable them to
share in the gains and honors of advancing civilization."
Following this preamble are twenty demands at the hands of
the State and of Congress, including the abrogation of all laws that
do not bear equally upon capital and labor; the levying of a
graduated income tax, and that, " in connection with the post-
office, the government shall organize financial exchanges, safe
deposits and facilities for the deposit of the savings of the people
in small sums." They also desire to establish co-operative insti-
tutions, and are enemies of the wage system, which, however, they
do not expect to see abolished in one generation The land-tax
theory is not entertained by them as a body.
In the local assemblies of the Knights of Labor in New York
and its suburban cities there are at least 75,000 members. These
assemblies have been well called little republics in which the
members learn the duties of citizenship. Or better, they are
adidt schools where social, industrial and political problems
are studied with the earnestness of men who have tremendous
interests dependent upon their correct solution.
It is a noteworthy fact that no person who sells or makes a
livelihood by the sale of intoxicating drinks, and no lawyer,
banker, gambler or stock-broker can be admitted to their rank>.
The Prohibitionists are rapidly growing in numbers and influ-
ence in New York. Several able advocates and workers for total
abstinence have lately come to the front, and they are reinforced
by the aid of the Woman's Christian Temperance Union, beside
many other women of influence who do not belong to the Union.
Apparently, the Prohibition party is a factor of more importance
in the politics of the State, not alone in the city of New York,
than the labor movement. And this for the reason that it is
founded upon principle and composed of an unpurchasable
constituency.
In this city, whatever it may be outside, the influence of Henry
George is on the wane. His following is not chiefly composed <>f
actual artisans, but of clerks, small-traders and theorizers who,
deeply convinced that sociologic changes are necessary and
imminent, welcome any doctrines presented so clearly and ably
as his own. But for his peculiar views concerning land, his fol-
lowing would be much greater. A large percentage are kept in the
ranks through the magnetic eloquence of fervent Father McGlynn.
It is an open secret that certain Republican leaders aid and
abet the George party with the hope that it will draw more largely
from the Democratic ranks than from their own. As an offset,
the Democratic, although a liquor party, presents the anomaly of
encouraging the Prohibitionists for the purpose of weakening
their rivals, the Republicans, who chiefly fill the temperance
ranks.
One of the kings upon the political chess-board of this State,
Governor Hill, with that tact which always distinguishes him,
has given good official positions to some of the leading Knights of
Labor. By this means that order, as an organization, is for the
present deterred from participating in the political campaign.
Either this order or the United Labor party or the Progressive
Labor partv, hold the balance of power if they act under good
leadership, which will control the elections in this State and the
next Presidential election.
But another organization is coming to the front which is
establishing centers called Personal Liberty Leagues. Its name
is a sufficient explanation of its nature. It is charged that these
leagues are acting in conjunction with liquor dealers, who are
determined to repeal the Sunday laws and the high-license law
which militate against their interests. Many citizens, especially
those of foreign birth, believe it unjust that they should be deprived
of their Sunday beer, yet are law-abiding men. Acting with
them are the keepers of the lowest dives and saloons, as well as
those who stand for personal liberty as a principle. Alarmed
by the growing influence of this party, many clergymen and
others are holding meetings in order to counteract its influence.
Among other methods adopted is to ascertain the sentiments ot
candidates for public offices with a view to defeat those who do
not pledge themselves to oppose the conspiracy against Sunday.
In this work all denominations unite.
Meantime the Woman Suffrage party is flourishing. Some
of the best and wisest of New York's citizens have lately and
publicly pronounced in favor of restoring to woman the right of
full citizenship.
" Have these political parties aught to do with scientific
religion? " may be asked.
Thev have everything to do with true religion. Mutual
rights and duties, economics and ethics, incorporated in the plat-
form of one or another as a matter of party policy, are held sacred
bv a growing minority of leaders and of the rank and file. Dr.
702
THE ORKN COURT.
McGlynn gives a series of lectures on the Spiritual, Rational,
Moral and Religious Characteristics of the Cross of the New
Crusade, in which he attempts to prove that this crusade is identi-
cal with primitive Christianity. Woman's intuitional and ethical
nature is making itself felt in a greater degree than ever before,
and intellectual and moral discipline is the effect upon the average
workingman or woman who attend the meetings which are
organized in their behalf by party leaders. To compete with
their rivals, if for no other reason, they are compelled to furnish
facts, to give a modicum of truth, to consider the rights of the
individual, and to deal carefully with the theory and practice of
industrial problems. No fervid bombast upon the flag or the
republic passes muster now. The times are too critical. Men
are learning to govern themselves — are beginning to understand
what Democracy means. Women, too, are at work as a power.
At the fair held by the women belonging to the Anti-Poverty
Society, they cleared for its treasury no less than $15,000, and they
were almost entirely working-women. This society, moreover,
at its Sunday evening lectures, when the largest auditorium in
the city is more than filled, is a wonderful school to quicken,
inspire, instruct and elevate the mass of its members. It is to be
noted as a sign of the times that all these new parties emphatic-
ally endorse woman suffrage. Hester M. Poole.
REALITY AND ILLUSION AS TO SENSE.
To the Editor: Asbury Park, N. J., Jan. 3, 1888.
"The material world about us is reducible to sensations."
This is Mr. W. M.Salter's definition of idealism, as given in The
Open Court of October 3. That is good so far as it goes. Then
there are two classes of idealists: Those who affirm a non-
egoistic extra sensible something as the immediate source and
cause of this congeries of sensations called the material world;
and those who claim that the individual ego is that immediate
source and cause. Of the latter class there is at least one advo-
cate. Against the second of these views Mr. Salter labors to
defend what he considers the more rational doctrine. He thinks
the charge of "illusion" is made against the true doctrine be-
cause it is not clearly seen and understood as implying a cause
beyond ourselves. This question of the nature of " illusion" or
reality is what I wish in this paper to discuss; and propose thence
to show that it has no logical bearing on the truth or reasonable-
ness of Mr. Salter's notion of idealism.
What, then, are sense-illusion and sense-reality? According
to the old dualistic and materialistic notion, the answer would be
quite different from that furnished and required by idealism of
every shade. If the sense-world is really non-egoistic, then a real
object of sense is non-egoistic, and an illusion is a subjective state
— subjective in nature and origin — mistaken for a non-egoistic ob-
ject. This in old times was the universal notion on this subject;
and it is universal now with all uneducated people and with all
who are not idealists.
This view cannot be consistently held by any idealist. As he
makes all phenomena egoistic in their nature, if not in their source
and cause, it follows that real and illusive phenomena are only two
different classes of subjective states.
How shall we define and discriminate these two classes? To
this question, without explicitly stating it, all idealists of the
popular class give an implicit answer to the effect that they
are discriminated by their source and cause, and that the real
sense-object has a non-egoistic source and cause, while the unreal
01 illusive sense-object has an egoistic or subjective source and
cause. So far, then, the popular idealist defines the real and
illusive sense-object just the same as the old dualist and old
materialist. This is doubtless one element of his popularity. He
appears quite reasonable to the average mind, because he is not so
far above and unlike.
It is not our purpose here to discuss the question of the
origin of sense phenomena, but only to define an illusion of sense
in discrimination from a real sensible object. To say that they
differ in their origin is illegitimate. It is illogical and unscien-
tific. A thing is not real or unreal because of its origin. It is
reallyjust what it is, whateverits source and cause. As allcauses
are real causes, else they are not causes at all, so all effects are
real effects. Therefore, on this line of inquiry, on the relation of
phenomena to their causes and effects, we can never find any line
of demarkation between the illusive and the real sense-object.
Whether illusive or real all phenomena have an equally fixed
relation to their causes and effects.
Hence, whether the cause be egoistic or otherwise, the effect,
whatever it be, is equally real.
Besides, as the non-ego is confessedly unknown, how can we
know whether a phenomenon is caused by it? We cannot have
any such knowledge, and we cannot, therefore, determine this
question by this method.
Mr. Spencer gives the word " persistence " as descriptive of
the real in distinction from the illusive sense phenomenon. But
"persistence " is a very vague term. It is a term of quantity or de-
gree, and it gives no hint of the amount and duration of per-
sistence required to prove reality and disprove illusion. It is too
utterly wanting in precision to be entitled to any place in
ps3'chological science. All illusive phenomena persist in some
degree; and they persist in various degrees. The same is true of
whal are called real objects. None of them are eternally per-
sistent. Few of them have exactly the same degree of temporal
persistence. Some illusive phenomena persist longer and attract
wider and more various attention and confidence than some real
objects of sense. There is therefore no principle or rule in the
mere idea of persistence by which we may discriminate real from
illusive objects of sense.
Still, this effort of Mr. Spencer has the merit of departing
from the antiquated method of finding a criterion in an unknown
cause. His effort implies that we are to find the criterion of
reality and illusion as to sensible phenomena in some comparison
and discrimination of classes of phenomena. This is the method
I have always followed; and in accordance with this method I
will furnish a criterion which I think will satisfy all idealists
who give it sufficient attention to understand it, unbiased by their
old, unknown and unimaginable non-egoistic criterion.
Now, as all phenomena are equally subjective states, and as
their source and cause is not directly known, our scientific pro-
cedure is to find out and describe what are the characteristics
which men have generally agreed to give to the real in distinction
from the illusive, and then to formulate this distinction into a
general law or principle. That principle is as follows:
The real sensible object is a phenomenon which conforms to all the
lazvs of sensible experience, and the illusive object is one which does
not.
On extended examination it will be found, I think, that this
is a definition ; that it covers all possible cases, without redundancy.
All phenomena are subjective states. Subjective states and the
subject in such states, are all that we ever know; and the direct
knowledge of more seems forever an intrinsic impossibility. The
known difference concerning these phenomena can therefore con-
sist only in their different relations to the laws of sense-experience.
To the hypnotized subject all the thoughts and experiences in-
jected by the operator, however unreal or irrational, are to his con-
sciousness just as real subjective states as any other experience of
himselfor any other man. In what do they differ from the other
subjective states which are by common consent called true and
real? They do not conform to the known and universal laws of
sensible experience. They are known to be peculiar in their
personal limitation and connection. The real sensible object is
THE OPEN COURT.
?°3
that which everybody experiences or may experience, while the
illusive experience is confined to one or a few, and to special con-
ditions of the conscious subject. This is the way in which men
always actually determine between illusion and reality. They
could not fully and accurately formulate their method, but they
follow it none the less. Just as men may talk well, though they
cannot well expound grammar. This subject admits of endless
illustration, like Spencer's theory of Progress. Here we, however,
must stop or The Open Court will close to us. Enough has
been said to show that the question of sensible illusion and reality
has no connection with the question concerning the origin of sensi-
ble phenomena, whether egoistic or non-egoistic. Wm. I. Gill.
A REPLY BY MR. WILLIAM M. SALTER.
To the Editor: Chicago, Jan. 10, 1S88.
In my article of October 13, to which Mr. Gill refers, I simply
endeavored to show that idealism did not necessarily imply that
there was nothing in existence but ourselves. This is the popular
understanding of idealism, and the position of some idealists. I
did not question that the latter had perfectly good right to be
called idealists ; I simply questioned whether they had an exclusive
right. My use of the word illusion was simply incidental ; if I
had said simply "creation of the mind," all the purposes of my
article would have been served. Popularly, "a creation of the
mind" is an " illusion," and I in so speaking simply followed pop-
ular usage. My only object was to show that sensible phenom-
ena, though subjective or ideal in their nature, were not such
creations.
As to the real meaning of " illusion" I am afraid my thoughts
are not altogether satisfactory to myself. I question whether in
philosophical strictness the term "illusory" applies to sensations
at all. It applies to thoughts or expectations or hopes. If I
imagine I can walk on the water or fly in the air, my state of
mind is illusory; for I cannot convert such a thought into actual
experience. Sensations are all real, whether I experience them
in the daylight or in my dreams, whether in a hypnotic or natural
condition. My mistake or illusion would be if I imagine that
what I saw in my dream I could see in day-time, or that the pains
that are given to me in a hypnotic state I should also experience
in a normal condition. All pain, all sound, all color are real.
An imaginary pain is an absurdity. I I such an expression is
used, it can only mean that the pain would not exist under other
circumstances. All illusions or mistakes are in the mind and
made by the mind, not by the senses. This I have stated at
length in the Journal of Speculative Philosophy, July, 1SS4, pp.
258-260. I have been exceedingly interested in Mr. Gill's discus-
sion of the subject; I entirely agree with his criticism of Spencer's
criterion of "persistence;" I think I might in the main agree with
him without at all giving up my contention as to the non-egoistic
origin of sensations, and only regret that I have not time to con-
sider his position in detail. William M. Salter.
REPLY TO MR. BENJAMIN CROSS.
To the Editor: Barre, Mass., Jan. 5, 1SS7.
If Mr. Benjamin Cross will examine his own quotation from
my article in vour journal of August 18, 1SS7, he will perceive
that he abused himself where he states " I, as one of the class of
spiritualists included in the so-called humbugged," etc., unless
Mr. Cross was "converted to its theories (spiritualism) by some
of the so-called mediums exposed by this commission," for he
quotes me correctly where he says " the believers in spiritualism
who have been converted to its theories by any of the so-called
mediums exposed by this commission, will feel that they have been
most egregiously humbugged."
Now, was Mr. Cross "converted by * * * any of the so-called
mediums exposed by this commission? " If so, then he was certainly
included, if not, he will perceive at once that he has done him-
self injustice in his statement, for in his quotation those are speci-
fied and no other " humbugged " converts mentioned.
This gentleman says, " in thirty years of experience in spiritu-
alism," etc., by which I infer that he has been a believer all these
years, consequently could not have been converted through Mr.
Slade's and Mrs. Patterson's slate-writing, nor hardly Mr. Mans-
field's sealed (?) letter-reading, nor through many of the mediums
exposed by the commission.
He goes on to relate phenomena through his niece, eleven
years old, and other children nine and ten years of age, and then
triumphantly inquires, "are they also humbugging me? Let
Ella E. Gibson answer." The great mistake with this gentleman
lies in imagining that I have asserted that all the phenomena
called spiritualism are a humbug, and that every one who mani-
fested it was humbugging. I never said any such thing. How
could I when the phenomena have accompanied me all mv life,
and for thirty-six years similar mental phenomena, as he describes
in these children, were daily a part of my existence; 1S52-1S63
there was scarcely a day but what I " saiv" as I called it, for
more than one person, and was lecturing months in succession on
an average, daily. I called names and dates, diagnosed disease,
personated both the living and the dead, described accurately per-
sons and places I have never seen, etc., and I know I was
neither a humbug nor humbugging.
At first (1S52) I inferred it was spirits; but as I was constantly
under this influence and never entranced, I had full opportunity
to analyze my emotions, conditions and facts connected, therefore
perceived it was not spirits but the result of my own unconscious
powers. These little children, and thousands of others, are no
more humbugs than was I. This psychic force and mental per-
ception is soon to be analyzed, classified and assigned to its proper
place, and until then I can afford to wait. The time has passed
when every mystery not understood can, with reason and safely
be relegated to the land of spirits, as in the dark ages when a god
or goddess was supposed to have swallowed the moon during an
eclipse.
I have a theory that accounts for the genuine phenomena
about as fully as evolution accounts for what is. All that is has
not yet been discovered. I wrote only of exposed humbugging,
though, let it be distinctly understood that I do not believe any
of the genuine phenomena are caused by spirits, for / do not
believe a spirit exists or ever did exist. Ella E. Gibson.
WHAT IS PRISON REFORM?
To the Editor: Dec. 22, 1SS7.
Abolish prisons, keepers, and all degrading rules. Institute
moral hospitals, with trained instructors and rules that will and
may be enforced without destroying self-respect. Abolish the
idea of punishment. Institute treatment. Abolish sentiment.
Abolish the slave-system of contract-labor. Work on State ac-
count with business principles. Make each hospital pay. Abol-
ish the definite sentence; set the patient into society when he is
cured and not before. Abolish the death penalty; giving all an
opportunity of regaining their normal social and moral standing.
Set each discharged patient into society with all the rights and
privileges of a citizen. All this may be accomplished by Act of
Legislature, and would certainly reform prisons.
The idea of punishment is as old as history. Old ideas are
tenacious of life, but they have to die sometime, and the time has
now arrived to kill and cremate this heathen idea of punishment.
Within the present century many acts were thought deserving
of punishment that to-day are thought best to be treated in a
scientific manner. The time was when insanity was punished
with beating, stoning and death. Lunatics are not thought to
be deserving of punishment to-day, they are subjected to treat-
7°4
THE OPEN COURT.
ment. What makes the difference is that we of to-day recognize
the fact that lunatics are not possessed by devils, but are diseased.
No one outside of the detective force who has given two consecu-
tive minutes of scientific thought to the subject of crime, but has
arrived at the truth that it is a disease — a disease of the morals.
Like consumption, it may be inherited or contracted, acute or
chronic. Like mental disease, it takes many phases. It may be
moral imbecility, or moral lunacy; and each may be divided into
numberless forms of the disease, each bearing a distinct aspect of
its own. Acknowledged a disease, how absurd to think of curing
it by punishment! Why not punish a small-pox patient into
good health.
If it is treatment, not punishment, which the wrong-doer is to
receive, there is obviously no further use for prisons; and austere
officers must give way to instructors who are trained for their
work. To secure their position there they will have to show
something different from a record of the number of human beings
they have hustled into prison while serving as policemen or
deputy sheriffs. Recognizing the patient as a dual being there
will be no rules that crush the man, in the effort to suppress the
criminal. Indeed, the most of the rules may well be left for the
inmates to formulate and enforce. This will develop strength of
character and elevate the man.
Common sense will teach that there should be no outside
interference, as by contractors and their hangers-on. No man
can be morally educated when his whole being is in revolt at the
thought of being another man's slave ten hours out of each
twenty-four. With the State-account system those who are in
control of the hospital are not hampered with a third party who
stands between the management and the patient, ever hungry
for the dollar to be gained, and whose only exclamation when a
man falls down ill is "Give me another! " With other heathen,
the contractor must go.
The system of working on State-account is easily managed
on business principles. Surely the State can buy raw material as
cheap as can a citizen. The machinery for using this is not
monopolized by contractors. The markets are as open for the
State to sell its products as for Citizen Growback to sell his, nor
need there be injurious rivalry; no product of labor but has its
quoted price. It would be strange indeed if the State could not
forbid the sale of its products under price.
The principle of profit as now defined, will be eliminated
from institutions for moral treatment. The profit to society will
yet be counted by dollars and cents, but on another basis.
Whereas an institution is now charged with the number ot dollars
it annually draws from the public treasury and is credited with
the number returned to the same. When reformed it will be
charged not only with the dollars drawn trom the public
purse, but also with the difference (in dollars) between a
healthy, honest man and a sickly, dishonest foe to society. It
will be debited with every failure to cure, and credited with every
cure made. This system will be easily established. The worth
to society of an honest, healthy man is well known. The cost
to society for the maintenance of criminal courts, police, jails and
prisons is readily computed, as is the cost of depredations. Strike
a balance and charge the deficit to the present system of treat-
ing crime. Radically change the system, give it ten years' trial,
crediting it with the diminished cost of depredation, of catching,
trying and confining criminals, and we will plainly see where the
" profit" is.
Little need be said of indeterminate sentences. The pro-
tection of society plainly demands that a criminal shall not be
let loose until he has recovered the use of his mi ral powers.
No wise judge can foretell how long a time it will take to de-
velop the man's moral faculties stifficientlv to warrant his being
6et at liberty. He might as well attempt to say ihat some insane
person should be confined in an asylum for a definite length of
time, whether reason was recovered or not, and should be released
at the end of that time even though raging with madness. The
definite sentence is an old idea, but it is heathenish and must go.
Those who are in control of penal institutions meet with no
more pernicious influence than that exerted by certain well-
meaning but mistaken philanthropists, who are impelled by
kindly hearts to slop over with sentiment. No criminal is so
hard to reach as the one who fancies himself injured, or has a
grievance against society. Aside from treatment that compels
him to feel this resentment, there is no one thing which will so
quickly bring this feeling as to have some tender-hearted, benevo-
lent person tell him that they think his penalty is far more
severe than his offense warrants; especially now that he has
promised to pray regularly, and has resolved to abandon his
wicked ways. One hour's conversation with this kind of a per-
sonage will make an ordinary convict feel that he is the most
wronged individual in the world, and that all who have anything
to do with keeping him in confinement are his mortal enemies.
He then straightway sets about formulating two plans: First, to
practice deception for the grace of his kind admirer; second, how
he can "get square" with those who are instrumental in keep-
ing him in prison. This man goes out at the end of his sentence
a worse man than when he began it.
Under the reformed system of treatment the first lesson for
him to learn, would be the beneficent justice of his having been
placed there. His next lesson would be that there was no possible
chance for his release before death, unless he actually changed
his habit of thought and mode of life. He would thus be thrown
upon his moral legs, and would not be long in learning to use
them, for he would see that it depended on himself whether he
was to remain for life, or for a short time. The judgement of his
development would be based on strictly ethical grounds. First,
would be observed his conduct; second, his character. This
latter is not so subtle and elusive as may be supposed. Even with
the present crude system the Warden can correctly tell, in nine
cases out often, whether a man will go right or wrong when he
is discharged. How much greater the surety, then, when the
discharge depends on his belief that the man would go right!
When the wrong-doer has been subjected to the thorough
treatment of this reformed system, and competent scientists (for
it will be a science) have pronounced him a man of sound morals,
and good enough to be trusted with his freedom, what folly to
follow him with social and legal ostracism! The legal stumbling-
block will be promptly removed. If he can be safely trusted at
large, he can safely be trusted at the ballot-box, and to give evi-
dence in the courts. It does not follow that, because he has once
been convicted of violating a law, he now stands ready to sell his
vote and to perjure himself. If he is still that kind of a man, why
let him loose? If he is not, why place him under this legal cloud?
It is often averred that an honest man cannot be made by
Act of Legislature. It may be so. One thing is certain, a dis-
honest man may be so made; and I am not alone in the belief
that laws may be so framed as to promote morality and right-
doing. All laws are but the reflection of public opinion. At
present one hour of one Sunday each year is given to the con-
sideration of prisons and prisoners. This is something toward
forming a correct public opinion that can sometime crystalize into
statute law. But the vastness of the subject, and its high and
immediate importance to society, would warrant the expenditure
of more time and thought on the subject. Eugene Hough.
ON GRAVITY.
To the Editor: Detroit, Mich., Dec. 6, 18S7.
In your issue of November 10 is an interesting article by
George Stearns entitled "The Mystery of Gravity."
THE OPEN COURT.
705
If anything could and would give light on this subject it cer-
tainly would be welcome. Mr. Stearns seems to think that the
idea of "attraction" as a prefix to gravitation is absurd. While
the idea that masses of matter are " pushed " toward each other by
" an intervening ether " is in the line of truth and of explanation.
If it should be demonstrated that an inraining ether pushed bodies
together, would it not be reasonable to infer that the cause of the
inraining of the ether was also the cause of what we now know
as gravitation? That instead of causing gravitation, it is caused
by it. That this action of the ether is but another instance of
matter obeying the same law. Does it really help to explain the
action of large masses, if we learn that small masses (i.e. luminif-
erous ether) are doing the same thing? Very truly, L.J. Ives.
BOOK REVIEWS.
Just before going to press the following telegram from Mr.
Hegeler* was received at the office of The Open Court:
Dr. Paul Cants, Care Open Court :
Your testimonial in original and translation should be pub-
lished in correction as editorial foot-note. Have written.
Edward C. Hegeler.
Mr. Hegeler states in his letter that the item in the Chicago
Graphic demands some further explanation, which would best be
made bv publishing the testimonial given to Dr. Cams by the
authorities on his resigning the position as Oberlehrcr which he
held at the Royal Corps of Cadets in Dresden. " Oberlehrer"
is a degree which is higher than that of instructor at American
colleges, while the title professor is reserved as a further distinction.
Complying with Mr. Hegeler's wish a copy of the document
referred to and a translation thereof are appended:
Koniglich SHchsisches Kadetten Korps.
Herr Oberlehrer Dr. Carus
hat die Entlassung von seiner dermaligen Stellung mit Ostern
dieses Jahres naehgesucht und erhalten, weil er sich mit seinen
Ansichten iiber Religion nichl in Uebereinstimmung befindet mit
dem christlichen Geiste, in welchem Erziehung und Unterricht
im Kadettenkorps geleitet werden sollen. Er hat diese Ansichten
iiber Religion in einer im Sommer vorigen Jahres veroffentlichten
Brochure bekannt gegeben, ist mit denselben sonst aber in keiner
Weise, weder beim Unterricht, noch bei anderen Gelegenheiten
provocirend hervorgetreten.
Herr Dr. Carus hat wiihrend der Dauer seiner Anstellung am
Koniglichen Kadettenkorps in den Klassen Untertertia und Quarta
Unterricht in verschiedenen Disciplinen, vorzugsweise aber in
Lateinischer und Deutscher Sprache und Geschichte ertheilt und
dabei praktische Befahigung und sicheres Wissen gezeigt.
Dresden, den iyten Februar, 1S81.
[L. S-] (§ez:) von Bulow,
Oberst und Kommandeur.
Royal Corps of Cadets of Saxony.
H rr Oberlehrer Dr. Carus
has tendered his resignation for the position which he has hereto-
fore held. The resignation has been accepted and is to go into
effect on Easter of this year. He resigns because his religious
views are not in harmony with the Christian spirit, in accordance
with which the training and education of the Corps of Cadets should
be conducted. He has published his religious views in a pamphlet
which appeared last summer. But he has in no wise — neither in
his teaching nor on other occasions — obtruded these opinions.
Dr. Carus, during his appointment at the Corps of Cadets,
has given instruction in various branches, but especially in the
Latin and German languages and in history, and has always shown
practical ability and thorough knowledge.
Dresden, February 17, 1SS1.
pL y I (Signed) von Bulow,
Colonel and Commander of the Corps.
* *. Olllp.trc this item with the foot-note on page 694.
John Keats. By Sidney Colvin. New York: Harper &
Brothers; 18S7.
There have been a great many contradictory opinions put
forward regarding the life and the life-work of John Keats. Thus,
from those who deny him any true poetic originality at all — indeed,
charging him with taking the color of the writers he happened to
be reading at the time he wrote his poems — to those who can only
give vent to their admiration in aesthetic superlatives, there is
obviously an intermediate region for even the most placid Philis-
tine to express his opinion. Mr. Colvin has taken this intermedi-
ate region without the least sign (so far as I can discern) of any
Philistinism being visible, and in this regard Mr. Colvin
differs, on the one hand, from Matthew Arnold's supercilious
attitude toward Keats, and on the other, from Mr. Swinburne's
fantastic and "over-languaged" spouting.
I do not know that Mr. Colvin has shed much further light
on the few brief facts of Keats' life. The poet was born on the
29th of October, 1795, in London, and his parents being in very
humble circumstances the great struggle of his life, as I gather
from Mr. Colvin's account, was to "break his birth's invidious
bar." We follow Keats from the time he goes to Mr. Cowden
Clarke's school, at Enfield, until 1810, when he apprenticed for
five years to a country doctor, at Edmunton. Of course the turn-
ing point in the poet's life was when, in his seventeenth year, Mr.
Clarke put into his hands the Ftsrie 3ueene, and led to the
study of Chaucer and Shakespeare. In 181 7, Keats gave to the
world selections from his first attempts in verse, and in 1S1S, En-
dymion appeared. Mr. Colvin shows how baseless the notion — -
spread by Byron — that Keats was " killed off by one critique." On
the contrary, the poet suffered from a number of causes. He
carried within him the seeds of family disease; he was alternately
thrown into a high state of feverish excitement and then into deep
dejection by melancholia; he was torn and distracted by a passion
for a woman wholly unsuited to him; he finally was vexed and
harassed by the want of money and the wherewithal ; for, as
Edmund Clarence Stedman well says in his recent paper on
modern poets, it is a mistake to think that poets, like caged birds,
sing better for starving.
Mr. Colvin has apparently given but slight heed to Keats'
letters to Fanny Brawne. In this, we think, he erred; because
no matter how much one may regret their appearance, the biog-
rapher of Keats must use them intelligently and discriminately
as showing the character of the man. No one can help feeling
that the last days of Keats were rendered doubly painful on ac-
count of what he himself calls his "horribly vivid" imagination.
He was in bitter truth " all touch, all eye, all ear." There cer-
tainly has not been in recent times a poet whose nervous papilhe
were so acutely sensitive, so burningly electric. Says James
Russell Lowell: " Was he (Keats) cheerful, he ' hops about the
gravel with the sparrows'; was he morbid, he 'would reject a
Petrarchal coronation, on account of my dying day.' " And now
the end is come.
When Keats fled away to Italy to die, he felt more keenly
than ever that he was worth saving. Then, he asked that his
epitaph might be : " Here lies one whose name was turit in -.voter."
Thus, on the 23d of February, 1821, there passed away in the
modest lodging at Rome a great poet, but "the world knew him
not."
It was only after people read and re-read the legacy be-
queathed them that they said, "Oh! the pity of it. Here was
a sword snapped and thrown away before the fight was half over.
Here was one of the corner-stones of a noble temple, never
builded. Let us take home the lesson and example of his life
and of his death."
706
THE OPEN COURT.
And this was accordingly done. In the language of Mr. Col-
vin, to which I subscribe, —
"The first considerable writer among Keats' successors on
whom his example took effect was Hood, in the fairy and romance
poems of his Earlier time. The dominant poet of the Victorian
age, Tennyson, has been profoundly influenced by it, both in
the form, and the matter of his art, and is indeed the heir of
Keats and Wordsworth in almost equal degrees. After, or
together with Coleridge, Keats has also contributed most among
English writers to the poetic method and ideals of Rossetti and
his group. Himself, as we have seen, alike by gifts and a true
child of the Elizabethans, he thus stands in the most direct line
of descent between the great poets of that age and, whom posterity
has yet to estimate, of our own day." L. J. Vance.
Legends from Story-Land. By James Vila Blake. Chicago:
C. H. Kerr & Co.
This little book is as pleasing, both in subject-matter and
style, as it is unique. We have sometimes felt a little like quar-
reling with Mr. Blake's written style on the ground that it culti-
vates simplicity of diction beyond the bounds of ease and natu-
ralness, but here the quaint, simple phrasing of the legends from
story-land forms a fitting garment for the stories themselves.
Mr. Blake treats every subject of which he writes from the
double point of view of scholar and poet, bringing to the discus-
sion of his chosen themes much nice and critical knowledge, gath-
ered from what many would consider rather dry sources of learn-
ing, together with a delicate and loving insight which only the
poetic order of mind is capable of. There are twelve of these
legends retold here, accompanied by a brief preface entitled
" Story-Land," and a word of conclusion on " The Open."
Story-Land is the name of the place where "the story-lan-
guage is spoken " in the days when men thought over the things
they saw in the world about them, but " as they knew little, the
better part of their thinking was wondering." Each of the legends
is found to contain two meanings, the true and the untrue, by
which is meant the poetic and the literal. "One meaning is just
what the words say * * * the other meaning is some spirit-
ual or moral truth, which lies tenderly packed in the woods." The
spiritual or moral truth which the writer aims to unfold in such le-
gends as " Tiresias " and " St. Thomas," is always of the most gen-
eral order. The spirit of modern scientific analysis given to defi
nite classification of everything, is noticeably absent. There is no
attempt to make the story of "Balder" and the rest convey any par-
ticular and circumscribed truth after the manner of those critics
who rationalize the horns on Angelo's Moses into remnants of
ancient sun-worship. Doubtless Mr. Blake's book would have
possessed additional interest if a greater variety of interpretation
had been put upon the different stories told, but as this evidently
lay outside the author's intention, it offers no fair point of criti-
cism. These legends from Story-Land are written with the single
purpose of separating that which is of a false, fleeting character
in all such literature from that which, because it embodies some
living idea or principle, is lasting and true. Mr. Blake compares
the Story-Land in which he has found these legends to the wood-
land, full of mingled light and shadow, that primeval state "in
which the people speak their religion in strange, wild tales of
wonders and signs." Around the woodland is the Open, "the
blooming-place ot knowledge," and in the Open is the spire of a
rational faith and worship built on knowledge.
The book is an attractive specimen of the book-maker's art,
being handsomely printed on enameled paper and bound in
dainty and original design. Each of the twelve legends is appro-
priately illustrated. The sketches are all good in design and help
to tell the stories, but it is to be regretted that the mechanical
part of the work is not of a higher order. c. p. w.
Mr. Kennan contributes to the January Century an article on
" Russian Provincial Prisons," based on personal investigation, in
which he gives a minute account of the Knock Alphabet, the
means of intercommunication resorted to by the Russian prison-
ers. The Lincoln biography deals with the formation of the
cabinet, richly illustrated with excellent portraits of the various
members. W.J. Stillman has a very interesting sketch of John
Ruskin, accompanied by an excellent frontispiece portrait. In fic-
tion there are contributions by Cable, Eggleston and Stockton.
In poetry there is a very pathetic dialect poem by James Whit-
comb Riley, entitled " The Old Man and Jim."
St. Nicholas is truly a magazine for young folks ofall ages,
for those who are for the first time awakening to life's realities as
well as for those who are entering upon second childhood. The
January number opens with a beautiful poem by John G Whit-
tier, "The Brown Dwarf of Riigen," very daintily illustrated by
E. H. Blashfield. Henry W. Jessup, who spent so many years
as a missionary in Arabia, contributes a novel and interesting
article on the " Amusements of Arab Children." Mrs. Pennell
gives an amusing description of the " London Christmas Panto-
mimes," including the recent representation of "Alice in Wonder-
land." Other features of the number are a description of "A
Girls' Military Company," written by Lieutenant W. R. Hamilton,
and a seasonable story, telling " Where the Christmas-tree Grew."
The leading article in Scribner's Magazine for January is a
richly illustrated paper by E. H. Blashfield, — "The Man at
Arms." It gives the history of armor from the time of Charle-
magne to the perfection of armor in the Fifteenth Century. The
illustrations are based upon old MSS., old prints, and upon the
military manikins in the Paris Museum of Artillery. Many of
the suits of armor described are connected with famous charac-
ters of history and fiction. Robert Louis Stevenson con-
tributes " A Chapter on Dreams," in which the origin of " Dr.
Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" is incidentally related. Interesting illus-
trated articles are "The Great Pyramid," by Edward L. Wilson,
and "Japanese Art, Artists, and Artisans," by William Elliot
Griffis. "The End of the Beginning" is a subtle, psychological
sketch by George A. Hibbard, which must come home to many a
one. There are also poems by C. P. Cranch and T. B. Aldrich.
Never more popular and prosperous than to-day, the Maga-
zine of American History opens its nineteenth volume with a won-
derfully interesting January number. " Thurlow Weed's Home
in New York City," where the great politician resided during the
last seventeen years of his life, is richly illustrated with exterior
and interior views, and an admirable portrait of Mr. Weed in his
later years is the frontispiece to the number. The graphic
and informing description of the house, and its distinguished
occupant, is from the ready pen of the editor of the magazine, who
introduces an account of Mr. Weed's marvelous experience in
France at a critical period in our civil war, in his own exact lan-
guage. A fac simile of one of President Lincoln's letters to Mr.
Weed accompanies this valuable paper. Other interesting articles
are " General Andrew Jackson's Account of the Battle of Horse-
shoe in 1814," never before published, by Gen. Marcus J. Wright.
"The Discovery of Yucatan," by Alice D. Le Plongeon, and the
"Historical Sketch of Christ Church, New York City," an able
and authoritative paper by William J. Davis.
The Popular Science Monthly for January opens with an
article by David A. Wells, "Governmental Interference with Pro-
duction and Distribution," which is devoted to the subject which
President Cleveland's message has made for the moment upper-
most in American thought — high and low tariffs. In " Evolu-
tion and Religious Thought," Professor Joseph Le Conte shows
how theological ideas have gradually and from time to time, suf-
THE OPEN COURT.
707
fered modification in accordance with new views of Nature dis-
covered by science. To the question, What will be the effect of
the universal acceptance of the law of evolution on religious
thought, he replies:
" There can be no doubt Unit evolution, as a law affecting all science and
every department of Nature, must fundamentally effect the whole realm of
thought and profoundly modify our traditional views of Nature, of God, and ot
man. There can be no doubt that we are now on the eve ot a great revolution.
But, as in all great revolutions, so in this, the first fears as to its effects are
greatlv exaggerated. To many, even friends and foes of Christianity, evolu-
tion seems to sweep away the whole foundation not only of Christianity, but
of all religion and morals, by demonstrating a universal materialism. Many
are ready to cry out in anguish, " Ye have taken away our gods, what have
we more? Ye have destroyed our deepest hopes and noblest aspirations, what
more is left worth living for? Bat I think all who are at all familiar with the
history of the so-called conflict between religion and science will admit this is
not the first time this cry has been raised against science. They have heard
this danger cry so often that they begin to regard it as little more than a wolf-
cry — scientific wolt in the religious fold."
" Race and Language " is a very thoughtful article by
Horatio Hale in which language is put forward as the chief and
surest criterion of race affiliations. "The Psychology ot Joking "
is an interesting discussion by Dr. J. H.Jacksonv in which we are
glad to see a good word said for punning.
THE LOST MANUSCRIPT.*
BY GUSTAV FREYTAG.
CHAPTER III.— Concluded.
The cold demeanor of the man made the Professor's
blood boil. He, with difficult)-, controlled his rising
anger, and, approaching the window, looked out at a
bevy of sparrows that were twittering angrily at one
another. At last, turning round, he began: —
" The possessor of a house has the right of refusal.
If you persist we shall certainly leave you with a feeling
of regret that you do not know how to appreciate the
possible importance of our communication. I have been
unable to avoid this meeting, although I was aware how
uncertain are the impressions formed in a first interview
with strangers. Our communication would perhaps
have received more attention if it had come to you
through the medium of your government, accompanied
by a requisition to commence an active research."
" Do you regret that you have not taken this course? "
asked the proprietor, laughing.
" To speak frankly, no. I have no confidence in
official protocols in such matters."
" Nor have I," answered the proprietor, drily.
" Ours is a small province, the Governor is at a distance,
and we are surrounded by foreign dominions. I have
nothing to do with the court; years pass without my
going there; the government does not bother us, and
in my disttict I control the police. If my government
were to attribute importance to your wishes, they would
probably call for a report from me, and that would cost
me a sheet of paper and an hour's writing. Perhaps, if
you made enough ado, they might also send a commis-
sion to my house. These would announce themselves
to me about dinner time, and I should take them to the
cellars after dinner; they would, for form's sake, knock
a little upon the walls, and I meanwhile would have
♦Copyright.
some bottles uncorked. At last a paper would be
quickly written, and the affair would be settled. I am
thankful that you have not adopted this method. More-
over, I would defend my household rights, even against
the king."
" It is vain, it appears to me, to speak to you of the
value of the manuscript," interposed the Professor,
severely.
" It would be of no avail," said the proprietor. It is
questionable whether such a curiosity, even if found on
my property, would be of essential value to myself. As
to the value to your branch of learning, I onlv know it
from what you say ; but neither for myself nor for you
will I stir a finger, because I do not believe that such a
treasure is concealed on my propertv, and I do not
choose to sacrifice myself for an improbability. This is
my answer, Heir Professor."
The Professor again stepped silently to the window.
Fritz, who, although indignant, had restrained himself,
felt that it was time to put an end to the conversation,
and rose to take his departure. " So you have given us
your final decision?"
" I regret that I can give you no other answer,"
replied the proprietor, compassionately, looking at the
two strangers. "I really am sorry that you have come
so far out of your way. If you desire to see my farm,
every door shall be opened to you. The walls of my
house I open to no one. I am, moreover, ready to keep
vour communication a secret, and the more so, as this
would also be to my own interest."
"Your refusal to allow any researches on your prop-
ertv makes any further secrecy unnecessary," answered
the Doctor. "All that remains to my friend now is to
publish his discovery in some scientific periodical. He
will then have done his duty, and perhaps others may be
more successful with you then we have been."
The proprietor started up. " Confound you, sir;
what the devil do you mean? Will you tell your story
to your colleagues? Probably these will think very
much as you do."
"Undoubtedly hundreds will view the matter exactly
as we do, and will also condemn your refusal," exclaimed
the Doctor.
" Sir, how you judge me is a matter of indifference
to me; I am perfectly willing to have you paint me as
black as your love of truth will allow," exclaimed the
proprietor, indignantly. " But I see that all will be ot
no avail. Hang the monks and their treasure! Now I
may every Sunday and every hour of your vacation
expect a visit like this one — strange people with spectacles
and umbrellas, who will claim the right to creep under
the wooden trestles of my dairy, and to climb on the
ceiling of the nursery. The devil take this Tacitus! "
The Professor took his hat. "We beg to take leave
of you," and went toward the door.
708
THE OPEN COURT
" Stop, my good gentlemen," cried the host, discom-
posed; " not so quickly. I would rather deal with you
two than have an incessant pilgrimage of your col-
leagues. Wait a moment, and I will make this proposi-
tion to you. You, yourselves, shall go through my
house, from garret to cellar; it is a severe tax upon me
and my household, but I will make the sacrifice.
If vou find a place that you think suspicious, we will
talk it over. On the other hand, promise me that you
will be silent with respect to the object of your visit
here before my people. My laborers are already suf-
ficiently excited without this; if you encourage this
unfortunate rumor, I cannot answer for it that the idea
will not occur to my own people to break through the
foundation-wall at a corner of the house. My house is
open to you the whole day as long as you are my guests.
But then, when you speak or write concerning the mat-
ter, I demand that you shall add that you have done all
in your power to search through my house, but have found
nothing. Will you enter into this compact with me?"
The Doctor looked doubtfully at the Professor to
see whether the pride of his friend would stoop to such
a condition. Contrary to his expectation, the counte-
nance of the scholar was radiant with joy, and he
answered :
"You have mistaken us on one point. We do not
desire to take away the concealed manuscript from your
possession, but we have only come to persuade you to
make the experiment. It seems very likely to us, that
we, in a strange house, not knowing the rooms, and
unused to this kind of research, shall find nothing.
If, however, we do not shun the ludicrous position in
which vou would place us, and accept your offer, we do
it only in the hope that, during our stay here, we shall
succeed in awakening in you a greater interest in the
possible discovery."
The proprietor shook his head, and shrugged his
shoulders. " The only interest I take in the matter is
that it should be forgotten as soon as possible. You
may do what you consider your duty. My business pre-
vents me from accompanying you. I shall consign you
to the care of my daughter."
He opened the door of the adjoining room and called
"Use!"
" Here, father," answered a rich-toned voice.
The proprietor went into the next room. "Come
here, Use, I have a special commission for you to-day.
There are two strange gentlemen from one of the Uni-
versities here. They are looking for a book which is
supposed to have been concealed in our house ages ago.
Conduct them through the house and open all the
rooms to them."
" But, father " interposed the daughter.
" It matters not," continued the proprietor, " it must
be." He approached closer to her and spoke in a low
tone: "They are two scholars and are crack-brained"
— he pointed to his head. " What the)' imagine is mad-
ness, and I only give in to them in order to have peace
in the future. Be cautious, Use; I do not know the
people. I must go to the farm, but will tell the Inspector
to remain near the house. They appear to me two
honest fools, but the devil may trust."
"I have no fear, father," answered the daughter;
"the house is full of people; we shall be able to man-
age."
" Take care that none of the maids are about, whilst
the strangers are sounding the walls and measuring.
For the rest, they do not look to me as if they would
find much, even though all the walls were built up with
books. But you must not allow them to break through
or injure the walls."
" I understand, father," said the daughter. " Do thev
remain to dinner?"
" Yes, your duty will continue till evening. The
housekeeper can superintend the dairy for you."
The friends heard fragments of the conversation
through the door; af